Surprise! (A Bonus Poetry Day)

Hello, I’ve returned.

I know, I know.  This kind of thing is usually for Thursday… but I really wanted to share some of the more recent things I’ve been working on without interrupting my current series on pantoums and colors.  Plus, I wasn’t really sure how to follow up my rabbit story….

Anyways, no one wants to hear me drone on, I’m sure.

 

 

A Haiku

I hope you fall in

Love with yourself before you

Lose yourself in love.

 

 

It’s Past My Bedtime and I’m Still Writing Poetry

Sometimes

When the only thing you feel

Is tiredness,

The only thing left to do

Is close your eyes

And dream.

 

 

You Can’t Demand Things from a Poet

If a poet lacks attention,

She’s not ignoring you,

But memorizing the moment

To recite it back to you.

 

 

Something Dyed Yesterday

Dye stains my skin, but I know

My hands shouldn’t look this way.

I want the colors–

And that justified my actions to me–

But my palms shouldn’t be red,

My fingertips black,

White knuckles turned blue,

Nails caked in dirt-like brown.

Rubber-banded minds like shirts in dye.

My hands shouldn’t look this way.

The colors are too vibrant.  Too bright.

Why do they look this way?

 

 

Open Heart Surgery

Slice open a heart.

It’s easier than you might think,

Easier still if it’s anyone’s but yours.

Take their feelings, emotional essence,

And cut it with a few sharp words.

Cutting open a heart–oh, anyone can do it,

But would you dare meet the victim’s eyes?

After it’s over, and the words occupy empty spaces

Between cracked pieces of open hearts,

Like surgery, it will fix the feeling

By removing it completely.

 

 

It’s too Cold Here

The night sky of stars

Is tragically beautiful

When the clouds part enough for a decent view,

But somehow,

The only thing I can see

Is the smile you hid from me.

From the right point of view,

Shaking shoulders can be mistaken

For laughter.

 

 

I Spilled a Little Ink

You don’t deserve to kiss me

Unless you’re willing

To spend all the time you have left

Just to learn why I was named.

 

 

 

A Brief Letter

Dear Ms. Xxxx

Sometimes I forget

Where my ink runs out

And my blood runs through.

Regardless,

I am blank paper,

And you are empty canvas.

Lukewarm Regards,

Xxxx

 

 

Untold Hero’s Welcome

There’s nothing left for you here.

Not even the family you left behind

Stayed to wait for a hero considered dead

By the community that made him a monster.

 

 

 

I know that was a lot.  I just got excited.  Sorry about that.

Anyhoo, there will be more poetry (pantoums) on Thursday, and then an impulse decision post on next Monday.  We’ll see what happens I guess.

Thank you for reading this!

Okay, I won’t occupy anymore of your attention today.  Goodbye. ❤

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