
Publishing
Maybe making books
Is fantasy,
All inside my head.
Putting together pretty
Words until the ink is red.
Maybe making books
Requires a bit of whimsy
To see the dreams
Contained within.

Publishing
Maybe making books
Is fantasy,
All inside my head.
Putting together pretty
Words until the ink is red.
Maybe making books
Requires a bit of whimsy
To see the dreams
Contained within.

I had nothing to say about the prompt for this hour… so I wrote what I wanted to…
Am I the Mistake
I understand now
That you were right,
I was your mistake.
That doesn’t mean
It was in any way
On my shoulders,
For I was a child
Whose only responsibility
Was growing up.
You made the mistake
In having children
You could not love
Unconditionally.

What is Love
So much that the poets
Have debated,
Ancient song lyrics
All have joined in to ask,
Not a answer amongst them…
Just another question to ask.
What is love
More than a debate
On human nature,
Emotions, and understanding
Time for grace.

I didn’t use the prompt. We had a pet die this morning and I chose to instead use my hour six poem to write about the chicken.
Nugget
You were sweet and onery
Quick to escape and a little bit of fun.
We are sorry to see you go
You started out one of the most mean
Of the litter we received,,
But you mellowed quickly.
We named her nugget because
She was onery and quick witted,
Damn it nugget was often heard…
Now we say that for the tears
Cried because we miss you.
Your funeral pyre was glorious
Go ahead, show the gods
You are magnificent!

Music
Music is such a personal thing
Shared by the world
With each hearing it uniquely.
The dreams are nightmares collectively,
For the lyrics are interpreted
Quite different depending on
The soul.
Some just hear only the beat,
Others need the lyrics
To connect
Soulfully.

Marriage
Two souls intertwine,
The choices made
Were made combined.
Through the good,
The bad and the in between
I am with you and you are with me.
And if death does do us part,
Please know that with you
Goes my heart.
The vows were made in truest faith
Before family, friends, and all that came.
All the years, the struggles, the tears,
And not a thing would I change.
You and I are everything
That I wanted in my
Day to day.

Looking Into the Void
The edge is a tempting place
For me to go to scream,
Looking into the Void
I can scream about all the things
That I should somehow avoid.
The edge calls me forth,
The need to speak unto the void.
A eternity at my feet
With the wind pulling me
Towards the edge.

Who’s to Blame
The age old question is asked
Again and again,
Who’s to blame,
What is the fault?
So much blame to be handed about,
Instead of accepting that we all
Have a hand in the end results,
Instead of handing out blame
Why not allow humanity
Room for mistakes?

About us draped the past
Please understand that we have always
Had the past wrapped around us,
Echoing the moments that we lived…
We wore it proudly because it made us
Into the people that we were,
Folding us like origami into individual selves…
Perhaps it was too heavy for some,
That cloak of memories,
But it still was a part
Of the way that
Humanity dressed.