Oct 21
poem challenge: Urgency

A Remembrance of the Chain-link Earth

It's earth day, but it's more than that,
We need a chance to think
For the chain of flora and fauna, we're just another link.
We're not so special, us human beings
That the world deserves to suffer
So that we can stuff our selves full with a corporate issued stuffer.
After all, have we not consumed enough, exhumed enough
Resources from the earth?
Have not we destroyed enough of life
That we're beyond rebirth?
You can't compost your problems
You can't make them go away
You can't sing a song of peace and hope 
As the fire grows everyday.
And as the ice caps melt 
And drip
down the kitchen sink
I wonder, wouldn't things be better
If people would just stop
And think?
Oct 21
poem challenge: Appreciation

Wishes on the wind

River running wide and long,
I wish that I could sing your song.

Pine tree growing, tall and thin,
I wish I were a needle, sharp as a pin.

Wildflower, small and blue,
I wish to be a flower, too.

Hawk spiraling overhead,
I wish I was a feather, long and red.

Hills loping westward towards the setting sun,
I wish I sunk when the day was done.

Reed bending in the breeze,
I wish I could snap, rustle, and then freeze.

Snow falling softly in the wind,
I wish the rain and sky were my kin.

Waves overlapping in the great blue sea,
I wish I were anyone but me.
Oct 15
poem challenge: Objects

A thank you note for a mask

My mask leads a pititiable life
Strapped to my face all day
And yet it protects me and keep me safe
"Thank you!" is what I'd like to say.

Thanks for all the times in the crowded mall
When I worked the counter
Thanks for the times when the children coughed
When you never blanched or floundered.

Thanks for your embrace
On chilly winter morns
Thanks for sitting on my chin
From morning to dusk, till dawn.

Thanks for coming to the States
And to England, and to Spain
Thanks for the comfort you provide
No matter how much I might complain.

I sing your praises, you scrap of cloth
With your bands of white elastic
Who knew that the line between life and death
Could be as small as a piece of fabric.
Oct 04

The self pity poem (wood chip potions)

I am choking to death on freshly  cut grass
And the Quaker song "Simple Gifts."
I lay face down on the freshly mowed lawn
And the dogs give me a polite sniff.
I am getting asthma from the gymnasium air
And the smell of rubber tennis shoes
I am dying of grief for the girl I once was
That girl who I managed to lose.
I am having an aneurysm when I think of time gone
Of the friends and the "friends" and the end
And all of those times that I was not queen, but a disposable pawn.
I am remembering the spinning blue thing at the playground
And how it made my brain twirl
And as I am laid to rest 
Where once I had recess
Overhead, the fall leaves begin to swirl.
Sep 29
fiction challenge: Heavens

The Tale of the Loom

The Greatness opened its eyes, and saw darkness. And the Greatness was alone. 
So the Greatness thought of a loom, and in that moment, the first loom was created. 
The Greatness took the darkness and wove it into the Moon and the Sun, Taman and Tarak.
And suddenly the Greatness was no longer alone.
One day, Tarak came to the Greatness and said to Them, "Oh highest of holy ones, oh great father of the heavens, oh great mother of Taman and Tarak, please, I am lonely. I only see my twin Taman at sunset, and even then it is fleeting. Please, create for me a world to shine down on."'
And the Greatnes remembered Their lonliness and sat before Their loom once more. They wove the the first planet, Mercury into existance from firey pink fibers and thrust it down into the sky. And for a while, the Greatness rested as the Mercury spun peacefully around Tarak.

Sep 27

The Eternal Mysticism of Dungeons and Dragons

There's sometihng speical aobut sititng down together and creating something where there was nothing. WIth a pencill, paper,a nd a few dice, my friends and I write a story in the air. The room around us seems to fade and then disappear, replaced by a gloomy forest with towering trees or else a bustling port city rich with markets and the smell of spice. We are no longer just a group of nerds, but an adventuring party! Tall, mysterious elves with rune-etched words, the decendants of demons armed with knives and stuffed bunnies, or spell slinging humans in shimmering robes. We are no longer highschoool students with classes in the morning, but heroes and villains, reshaping the world as we see fit. We have control over only ourselves as the world dissolves around us ,but we stand strong against the tide. Slicing through monsters, taking the treasure, and falling in love.
Sep 24
poem challenge: Song Lyric

Cardboard Houses: A Song Lyric Poem

Author's note: This poem was inspired by and used a line from Will Wood's Suburbia Overture.It's one of my favorite songs, and I reccomend checking it out-once you're done with the poem, of course.

Cardboard houses full of dead and dying rats
Velvet dresses worn with rotting hats,
Going to church and laughing in the pews
Stomping on a cat as it bellows and mews.
The sun is setting over the bright blue hils
Say Live Laugh and Love, oh, and please pass the pills
Write in wing dings or smells the roses
Or turn the other cheek on upturned button noses.
Try to impale my heart on the white picket fence
Smear my blood on the playground using plain common sense
Grab my hands, pull my hair, yank me back to the past
The best in the show is stepping on the last.
Celebrate, overrate, call your friends, stay out late,
Maybe it's the town or maybe it's fate.

Sep 17

September Morning

In the anticipation of fall colors,
There is a smell of the burning of summer’s last great triumph
The clouds over the shifting trees gild the ground with a web of drops
The fresh rain tastes of quarters dropped in the gutter and wet wool sweaters
The grass is spongy and in it’s green strands it holds tightly to the lost dreams of a fading season
The soft folds of the hills's silk skirt drift over the horizon 
The piece of peace that comes with september mornings finds a spot to rest in the deepest part of a lake
And all is still.
Aug 31
poem challenge: Create Challenges


Aug 29

The neighborhood in my heart

Of the neighborhood in my heart, I will say but a few things,
As the bard of the asphalt, I will quietly sing:
That the summer smells like sunscreen and pond water, popsicles and tears,
That the fall smells of acorns and Halloween fears,
That the winter smells of snow days and sledding down the street,
That the spring smells of wet rainboots pulled from wetter feet.
That in the creaking of clapboard and the pounding of rain,
In the stripes of sunshine and the scraped-kneed pain,
In the walls I have lived within my entire life,
In good times and bad times, happiness and strife,
There is one house and one love,
The warmest embrace,
The feeling of stubble tickling my face,
The taste of potpie for dinner and salad for lunch,
The sharp stinging odor of freshly laid mulch.
There is biking till sundown and the neighborhood school.
There is my house, warm in winter, and in summer, cool.