Mar 29
Margaret S.'s picture

Solo

Running through the woods, away from it all
Her feet pounding like drums and her heart beating a fast tempo
Away from all the noise, from the music in her head that was so hard to escape
The clarinet getting louder and louder every day until it felt like her brain would burst
But not now, not here, in the woods
Nature’s orchestra was much more soothing than the one in her head
It was the rustling of leaves and the short, sweet notes from the occasional bird
The music in her head became the song of a violin as she stood there, the trees spinning around her
The good kind of spinning that meant her mind was peaceful
Not the kind where she was getting sucked into the spin
No, everything was spinning out of her, not into her
Even if it was only for a moment, here in these woods, she was at peace
And the symphony in her head became one sole musician
Her

 
Dec 14
poem challenge: Red
Margaret S.'s picture

The Power of Red

Red is, in one word, intense
It is chic red dresses and vermillion lips and roses 
It’s the start of the rainbow and the blushing cheeks of the easily embarrassed
It’s the sunset on a scorching day in July
It is lifeguards and stop signs and taillights and first aid

But red is also danger and rage and blood
It is fire and poisonous animals and red flag warning signs
It is the color your fingers turn
when they start to hurt from the cold
It is the color of the flag in bull-fighting and big red buttons that
You’re never allowed to push
It is hot peppers and poisonous mushrooms and the fiery pits of the underworld 
Red is, in one word, intense
 
Nov 10
Margaret S.'s picture

Sometimes I Wish

Sometimes I wish people would just insult me, flat-out. 
Not tiptoeing around their comments and weaving them
into looks and gestures

Sometimes I wish I could scream, 
“Just tell me you don’t like me” 
Instead of nodding my head and smiling
as they compliment every single other person in the room
Except for me

Sometimes I wish they could say this mean thing straight to my face instead of twisting it
into a nice-seeming comment that is rooted in displeasure

Sometimes I wish I had the courage to ask, “Would you like me to leave you alone or would you rather we continue pretending
to be each other’s friends?”

Sometimes I wish life was that simple.
 
Sep 28
poem challenge: Taste
Margaret S.'s picture

Eating ice cream out of the container in the early morning

You wake up early on Saturday, the windows dark like your father’s coffee. It tastes bitter but exciting, like sour candy with a hint of sweetness in the back of your mouth.

You stumble into the living room, the brightness of the TV blinding like the first taste of food in the morning when your mouth waters with the shock of flavor. Your brother is already awake and watching cartoons, his excitement tropical like papaya and mango.

You slip into the kitchen, realizing your parents are still asleep. It tastes sly like cold spaghetti and mischievous like licorice jelly beans.

You open the freezer, a blast of cold air hitting you like a maraschino cherry, sweet and devious. You spot the ice cream, neapolitan, and reach for it, excitement growing stronger and tasting like too-sweet birthday cake, a little bit wrong.
Jun 01
poem challenge: Nice
Margaret S.'s picture

that quiet girl

She doesn’t hold the door for everyone
It makes her nervous
She won’t compliment strangers
It gives her too much anxiety
And she won’t offer over and over to clean up
Because she hates making a scene
But once you get to know her
You’ll know that she has too much empathy for her own good
And if you stick around long enough 
For her to consider you a friend
You won’t ever regret it 
Because she’s the most loyal person you’ll ever meet
She'll be your friend beyond forever
If that isn't nice, I don't know what is
 
Nov 10
poem challenge: Grateful
Margaret S.'s picture

Forever Friends

By your side through thick and thin
Helping you through your struggles
You can finally be yourself around them
Best friends are such a blessing

They’ll let you talk the most
When you normally talk the least
They’ll compliment you every day 
When nothing’s even changed

You’re always welcome with them
When you’re not welcome anywhere else
You could talk and talk for hours 
If life didn’t get in the way

You know what they’re saying with just one glance
They know how you feel by the way you stand
And words can’t express your gratitude
That they’re sharing this part of their life with you
Oct 15
poem challenge: Winter Tales 2020
Margaret S.'s picture

A snowy morning walk

I step outside and into the winter dawn
A crisp, icy breeze washes over me

Snowflakes dance in the air like tiny ballerinas
And pirouette softly to the ground 

The snow whispers under my feet
As I walk into the serene forest

Bundles of snow fall from tree branches
And land softly on the ground

Birds twitter faintly in the trees
As I slowly find my way to a clearing 

Pine needles litter a snowy canvas
Like tiny brushstrokes on paper

It is quiet and peaceful here
I am finally home