post-a-poem 6 {2012}

i know i missed the weekend...i knew that i would...
a wedding that saw me starting at 8 am
and finishing in a snowstorm
{a 45 minute drive extended to an hour and a half}
getting home at midnight
had me spending the next day with the aftermath
plus a cold starting.

but today.
today there was a new prompt
and sunshine
and reclaimed energy.

this girl, she...is the prompt

this girl...she stands before the night
she is a tyrant of her own apathy
she dances with a veil of
     delusions and delight
and she longs to pass you her truth
{if you would only hold out your hand}
she longs to pass you her sad and lonely disgrace
{if only you would promise
     to understand}
but instead
     she tiptoes along a luminous thread
          following the galaxy of teeny tiny stars
              and allows herself
                     to get lost in the
                         blur
                          that
                           becomes the trajectory
                                    of one's life.

post-a-poem 5 {2012}

there are
two
bright blue bands
on the light pole
across the street
and i
wonder what
they are there for?
who put them there
and why...
what do they signify
{to you}...
{to me}
i think
they must be
a symbol
a sign
a declaration
a cry
a love note written in duct tape
a secret, a surprise
a cryptic poem in linear lines
to be deciphered
if you blur your eyes
just
enough
and stand
far enough away
from
your own
heavy
heart.

post-a-poem 4 {2012}

i am following the plans and prompts and exercises on 
loving it...
truly loving it.

although i am feeling pre-wedding photography jitters
as i have my first wedding
for this season on saturday
and i am not ready for easter
and feel overwhelmed and 
just a little skittery-scattery-all-over-the-place
i 
am 
also
just trying to take a deep breath
and 
be here...be steady...be slow
be patient with my own thoughts.

so tonight,
i tried an exercise she suggested
and although i was afraid i was not going to be able to settle
and that it was not going to happen tonight
i ended up being 
extremely happy with what came out of it...
i'm not sure if this is a 
or if it is, in fact, finished...but here it is regardless.

we asked you to pick up the tires
     you had scattered
     all over the lawn
{once again, we are the neighbors 
     no one wants to know}
{they avoid us when they go door to door
    selling their goddamned girl guide cookies}.

this morning, i looked out
and saw that you had built 
   an inukshuk of sorts
     from 3 car tires
with an old metal chair 
    you had rescued from the side of the road
         perched proudly on top
like a totem...
     like a love note...
          to me.

and i carry it in my heart.


 


 sooc

poem it out 3 {2012} and i'm already a day behind...

last night
it was a headache
of grand
proportions
that had me going to bed
at 4 in the afternoon
still wearing the dress
i wore to work
and sleeping til 6 this morning.

no writing, no reading
barely any dreaming
just waking in starts and stops
and thinking
yes...it's still there....
the headache is not gone yet.

echoes of it remain today.

but i wanted to stop by,
just to get my post in...

to get my poem in...

a walk to work- silent sun in my eyes
words bouncing and tumbling
ideas forming and shaping
shifting and evolving
i can't keep up
with my own pace

blue sky above the green of the tree
time
endless
blows me away
stream of conciousness in a 
quiet office
scribble scrabble sketchy etchings
of a twenty minute walk

a foray into my mind. 

post-a-poem 2 {2012}

i am doing liz lamoreux's e course
and today
was the first day...

there was talk of meditation
and putting your pen to paper
and of wondering
what drew you to poetry...

to be honest,
i feel that i don't write poetry,
i scribble
and i confess
and i lie and i vent.
i don't edit.
i don't write with an audience in mind.
i don't share
{except here}{and there}

but i do purge.
i release.

it has always been this way for me.
ever since that day in grade ten
when i found
the lyrics to
with or without you
handwritten on a torn piece of looseleaf
on the locker room floor
and thought it was a poem
and my head cracked open just a little bit
as i thought
THIS could be what poetry is.
there are no stanzas, no rules,
just words {and i love words}
strung together in a way that evoked
feeling
in me...

and to be consistent, here is a purging of my own:

how long has it been
since i have sat
pen and paper in hand
no other distractions...
no flickering lights to pull me away
no internet connection
no proxy no server
just me
and my paper and pen
and time...
time to listen to myself again