that's mrs. mediocrity to you

a tulip
refuses to rage
or go gentle

blown out
blowsed up
blundering on

through
tenacity’s
funeral

no tears
no fear
all clear

silent growth
tender reach
purple hope

eating sunshine
like spun
cotton candy

harnessed
by beauty’s
last song

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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in a garden of barely there
two white flowers stand side by side

heads bent in a soliloquy of prayer

the ground is barren
in all directions

but for these brave soldiers
sent ahead to scout
for possibility

in the rooted dance
of no escape

outstretched arms always almost touching

two white flowers stand side by side
in a garden of barely there

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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as if red would change hue by calling it blue

then lavender and lemons could be interchanged

while joy and melancholy ride the same fence

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roses aren’t always red and blue is a mood

spite is never a flavor but we know how it tastes

the moon never burns and the sun always sleeps

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blood seen through my skin runs aquamarine

the spider only knows the rhyme scheme of hunger

evening always lights the candle of mourning

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each heart is the color of refrain

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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everywhere i go i pick up rocks
fist sized and pocket pretty

glitter bombed and sand scoured
mud coated and water polished

if you come to my house
you’ll find one in every corner

scattered on shelves
ringing the chimney

posing as tchocke and
serving as doorstop

lift the one at your feet and
you’ll feel the mountains

touch the three to your right
and you’ll wear the forest

graze the one on that shelf
and hear whispers of german

all the best ones are hidden
in places i’ve forgotten

the chunk of white granite
i found when i walked out

a dog-bone shaped fossil
holding place for a friend

the almost heart i dug up
from my always garden

hard bits of ancient life
compressed into monument

words and footprint
howls and monsoon

captured in cages
beyond the season

of deciduous silence
and decay

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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i am
pastel pretty and dark closet rune
bone deep and feather dried
fountain flushed and mirror movement

i am
earth breath and wing touch
hope bare and hollow eyed
fault finder and gravity maker

i am
song sword and syllable certain
scream vague and whisper written
moon hearted and nest addled

i am
moss skirt and crooked finger
open grave and winded future
beaded lover and scramble dancer

i am
the sun that never rose
in the forest of supplication
fleeing the harness of habitude

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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my soul is not for sale
the sky is filled with words
and i love to sweep

my heart has been broken
more times than a promise

look at me sideways
and i’ll disappear

most days i want to change everything
most days i wouldn’t change anything

i walk a plank of wooden nickels
and who i am has no value

i live on vowels fished from waves
in the sea of repetition

censorship is a dark cloud
raining false vanilla

my broom is not for sale
the words are filled with holes
and i’m in too deep

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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there will be days to hold onto
and days that burn the skin from your fingers

happiness is a pearl you should wear
when no one else is looking

every movement you make involves a choice
between yourself and someone you love

practice remembering what it was to be a child
and laugh with joy at least once a day

lick wonder from your fingers and
rub hope into your elbows

don’t ever be afraid to be silent
or to speak or to sing or to scream

every mirror is a false apparition
find your reflection in someone else’s eyes

you will grow in ten million directions
and every one of them is who you are

make every mistake you can imagine
and then go back and make a few more

kindness always replenishes itself
and love is the same as breathing

you will never finish the book
that is your story

life is the gift and survival
is the miracle

sit beneath the sky and find a way

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.

Linking in over at dVersePoets for Meeting the Bar.

Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.

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if anne tyler shows up, we’ll have homesick for dessert
and she’ll teach us how to breathe and forgive

hemingway is sure to want venison, but after
an extra tall absinthe, he’ll make do with chicken

as miss plath lights the candles and serves up
bitter cookies dressed in marzipan and red

garth stein arrives dripping wet, a bit shy and
empty-handed, claiming the dog ate his casserole

which makes david wroblewski snort

and when erin morgenstern sits down we hear a barker
hawking tickets to a game of musical chairs

a plan mr. king is all for as the table suddenly expands
and the sun starts to sing in the corner

rosamunde pilcher brings bread pudding and roses
and insists that she sit next to salinger

though of course, his chair remains empty and

anne sexton is the life of the party, wearing pearls
and wry and eventually landing in vonnegut’s lap

while franzen sneers behind one perfect hand, his plate
filled with words no one else cares to sample

as toni morrison whispers with somerset maugham,
heads bent in an endless discussion

dostoevsky is straining to hear

cummings offers up broken cake and colored water
he pulls from the pockets of his coat

when edith wharton smiles at mark danielewski
picking leaves from the hem of emily’s dress

and mark helprin sits in the corner, alone
taking notes with long cold fingers

as laura ingalls passes chipped plates

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A little fun today, planning dinner with some favorite authors.
Who would you invite to your party?

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo, see more here.

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when i was 49
i started throwing things away

first it was old love letters
and too-short dresses

broken bracelets and lidless saucepans
piles of books and how-to magazines

finally moving on to bowls and worn towels
then shiny bits of empty ornament

the room grew larger but i kept shrinking
i sucked in a breath to keep me anchored

and i cleaned with the faith of a zealot
scrubbing broken brick
and washing stains out of memory

until everything was bleached
as the bones i had scattered in the sand

afterward i lay on the damp wood floor
staring up at a sky i’d drawn with blue pencil

my back ached and my arms were empty
my stomach growled with the pleasure of hunger

i had cleaned my slate and now i was ready
for dessert or silence or immunity

it wasn’t until dawn i remembered
i’d forgotten to outline the sun

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo, see more here.

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you run black hills
with the strength of five thousand
orange-lipped sunsets

pounding smoke and dropping rivulets
of pink man blood sweat
but never
tears

everything about you is saturated
ruby rum lips and fiery opinion
erupting in long lava sentences
melting holes in paisley promise

as if you can boil a prism down
to the last grey nugget of truth

but violet vapors and emerald emission
always manage to escape
floating up and out behind you
in a clown-cloud of blush and burnt umber

just a touch of ochre ozone
burns my nostrils as you pass
waving daffodil hellos and
jaded celadon goodbyes

and you wink your sea glass eye
just to prove
with opal portent
that you see
only

black and white

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Linking in today over at dVersePoets for a color festival with Poetics, join us!

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