NPM 2018: Absent (Day 30)

Well... I forgot about the 28th. I suppose I could post two poems right now but I just don't have the emotional energy, and I already wrote three haikus this month. So here you go. One poem, written on the spot, to finish out National Poetry Month. Thank you to all who read my work. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you'll be back to read again next year (or whenever I decided to blog again.)

Absent

Under a tree
shaken by wind
Across an empty table
with empty hands

In the shape of
nothing
Known by the color
of nothing
She said
I will leave this place
and I will be new
with the first step
And the wind
laughed
The wind talked back
at nothing
Because she
was already gone

NPM 2018: Good Girl (Day 29)

Good Girl
Written September 9, 2017

for Holly Bambina

Good girls are sickly sweet,
they are whipped cream and
sugar sprinkles, sugar showers,
sugar rushes till your teeth hurt.
They say a good girl is made of spice,
she is everything nice, she is daffodils
and tulips in a tamed garden,
she tastes like carnival cotton candy,
she is cinnamon on apple pie, but I…

I’m made of the darkest chocolate,
I am strong coffee and stronger gin,
a thick slice of toast with no butter,
and a cloud of ginger and cumin.
And if I’m a flower I’m dandelions,
I’m daisies on the side of the road,
growing among the gravel and rocks,
not caring where the grass stops,
never doing what I’m told.

And now we know you were the fool
who went on and loved me still
with your softness, golden-eyed,
your honey tones balancing my shrill.
You loved wildflowers and making wishes,
would take a bite of my temper
just to know if it was delicious.
You seemed not to care what I was made of,
who I was, or what my harshness might do.
Now that you’re gone
so are all my rough edges and
all I’m made of is you.

NPM 2018: Spills (Day 27)

Spills
Written March 29, 2018

Gray
is a big color,
it can cover
so much at once.
And I
am sometimes filled
with gray spills
for months.
So keep
my colors for me
while I am working
to be strong.
Gray
can’t last forever,
so come whatever,

I won’t be long.

NPM 2018: Coffee Haiku #2 & #3 (Day 26)

Coffee Haiku #2 & #3

That man could be found
with a paintbrush in one hand
up on a ladder

In the other hand
poised like a trapeze artist
Grandpa had coffee

NPM 2018: Noise (Day 25)

Noise
Written December 19, 2017

my biggest regret

in the greatest darkness

is being too tired

to do the right thing.

i do what i hate

to make myself scarce

when it takes too much

to continue being.

but nothing resists

the shadows so much

as the push through the noise


just to hear myself sing.

NPM 2018: Recovered (Day 24)

Recovered
Written April 24, 2018

I sat leisurely
at the keyboard
and typed this out.
I sipped iced tea
in the springtime
and didn't recall
your thoughts
on cherry blossoms
until they were gone.
I sold a painting
and left the state
and had a crisis
and recovered
and didn't tell you
anything.
Maybe this year
I'll stop
writing poems
about you.

Nevermind.

NPM 2018: Coffee Haiku #1 (Day 23)

Coffee Haiku #1

Coffee for breakfast
is not glamorous but a
kind of survival.