A Broken Dreamcatcher

Doll by Emma Whitlock

Her dreamcatcher failed
And a nightmare slipped through,
One that ensnared her heart and soul,
Leaving her chasing the impossible
Until flesh was cleaved from bone,
The skeletal remains of her broken heart
Dangling in the breeze.

~~~ This poem was written for a photo prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Man in the Moon

Moon by Petr Kratochvil

I saw your face last night, 

Hiding in the shadows of the moon, 

Watching over me 

From the far off reaches 

Of the past, 

A secret presence offering 

Faint comfort to a wistful heart, 

And I can’t help but wonder 

If you've ever seen my face

Hiding in the shadows of the moon…

~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 7 prompt, asking us to write a circular poem.

Life of Pi

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Life is a circle, 

The wheel of fortune

Spinning on and on,

Moving me 

A little further

Down my path.

I've spent years

Trying to measure

The distance across it,

Trying to see

Just how wide

I open I need to be

To wrap myself around it,

Finally realizing

The key to this cipher

Is to know my own value…

3.1415926535

~~~ This poem was written for a prompt from Poetry Jam that asked us to take the title of a book on one of the New York Times best sellers lists and write a poem for it.  The book I chose was “The Life of Pi” by Yann Martel, which is #3 on the Paperback Trade Fiction list this week. This was also for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge day 19 prompt of writing a wheel poem.

Freak Show

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Ladies and gentlemen,
Boys and girls,
Children of all ages…
I invite you to step inside the Halls of Idiosyncrasy
To witness to this spectacle of the bizarre,
Deformities on public display for all to see.

First, witness the contortionist.
Watch as she manipulates
Her limbs into unnatural poses,
Far beyond the limitations
Normally required of human beings,
Shaping herself to the whims of those around her.

Here we see the sword swallower,
Ingesting every blade handed to her,
All those cutting words of sharpened steel,
Risking evisceration with every mouthful,
Her bleeding scars unseen by the outside world.

Next comes the bearded lady,
Genetics and hormones
Transforming this once-beautiful woman
Into a hirsute horror
Seeking to hide her shame
Behind scarves and veils.

Behold the snake charmer,
Whispering just the right words
To calm the wrath of the serpents
Who slither through deception
Then coil in defensive postures,
Ready to strike at any moment.

Finally we have the fire eater,
Consuming blazing words
That should never be left silent,
Determination scorched
In hopes of avoiding annihilation.

And what sets these oddities apart,
You may ask?

This display consists of only one performer…
Me.

Welcome to the freak show I call my life.


~~~ This was written for my prompt this week over at Poetry Jam about the circus.  This is also for the prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads asking us as poets to “break the fourth wall” of writing.

Soundtrack

© Kenia Cris

the soundtrack of my life
has switched keys,
transforming into
series of preludes
played through
old tinny speakers,
gentle waves of sound
that give no clue
to the insidious motives
of the band,
yet still I dance on...


~~~~ This poem was written for the Weekend Challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, giving us a choice of a form prompt or a photo prompt.  I chose a photograph by Kenia Cris, whose work can be found at her blog Poesia Torta.

Life as a Tree

Among the Tree by Jan Prikryl

Sinking roots into sacred ground,
My branches reaching toward the sky,
My duty I cannot defy.
I keep my watch without a sound.

The busy world goes rushing by
And never sees my leafy green.
Oblivious to nature’s scene,
They never stop to ponder why.

Through nature’s furies, I've survived,
The crashing lightning, raging fires,
But still, no matter what transpires
I’ll reemerge, refreshed, revived,

For nature always finds a way
To thrive against all likelihood.
I’ll make my stand in gnarled wood
And live to see a brighter day.


~~~ This poem was written for a prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads asking us to write about the temperate forest.

A Season of Grief

Tree Silhouette by Peter Griffin

Her heart lies
Wounded and withering
From near fatal
Blows of mourning,
Languishing in darkness
For too many years,
Too many tears.
All seasons pass
With the turning
Of the calendar page,
But time crawls more slowly
With every loss,
Her hope dormant and waiting
For the next season to begin.

~~~ This was written for the Poetry Jam prompt of “endless seasons” or "change of season."

A Message from the Owner

Snow on Trees by David Wagner

I know you know I own this wood,
And yes, the view is awfully good
When snowflakes fall on wintry nights
On land where birches long have stood.

If you had only looked, you'd find
A wooden “No Trespassing” sign,
Hung in plain sight upon the fence
That serves as my dividing line.

From this day forth I would prefer
To keep my privacy secure,
So find another road to take,
But first, clean up your horse manure!


~~~  Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 8 prompt, asking us to pick a poem by a dead poet and write a response.  I chose to write to Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," tongue very firmly in cheek of course.

Write, Not Right

Journal by Junior Libby

For more than a decade 

Pundits have spoken 

Of the great right wing conspiracy, 

Those evil capitalists 

Lurking in the shadows 

Seeking to seize power 

Regardless of the cost, 

Heartless bastards

Fueled by greed,

Willing to sacrifice

Anyone weaker

To better shape the world 

According to their insidious schemes. 

I speak of a different quest, 

My write wing conspiracy:

A mission to illustrate my vision 

Of triumph and disappointment 

Both at a personal level 

And also on a grander scale.  

Words hold power, 

And one poem at a time 

Every poet possesses

The power

To change the world.

~~~ This poem was inspired by the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 6 prompt, asking us to pen either a left poem or a right poem.

Three Minute Wait

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Three minutes can become an agonizing eternity 

Alone in the bathroom at 4 A.M.  

I hold that white plastic stick like a talisman, 

Praying that the tiny spark of hope 

That always resurfaces at times like this 

Would not be extinguished once again

With tears of disappointment. 

After years of dealing with a malfunctioning body 

Flooded with deceitful hormones, 

I understood that crushing emotion all too well. 

I’m afraid to breathe, 

Fighting back another wave of nausea, 

Wondering if this could just be anxiety,

Maybe a touch of the flu, 

Or perhaps something more…

My hands shake as the timer rings 

And I glance down at the indicator, 

Terrified of what I'll find.  

In that moment, 

Two pink lines showed me 

That miracles can happen, 

Even to someone like me.

~~~ This poem was written for the latest prompt from Poetic Bloomings in their poetic memoir series, asking us to write about a moment that changed our lives.  The moment that I found out I was pregnant with my daughter Emily certainly qualifies.

I was diagnosed several years with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS.)  PCOS is a hormone disorder that affects an estimated 6-10% of all women.  Besides causing infertility in women, PCOS can also cause other symptoms including high blood pressure, insulin resistance leading to diabetes,  abnormal hair growth patterns, and obesity.  PCOS is treatable with medications, diet, and exercise, but there is no cure.  You can find more information about PCOS here.

Emmy at 2 months

Emmy age 11

  

On Election Results, 2012

The Gadsden Flag.  Image from Wikimedia Commons

When political charlatans

Divide and deceive the voters,

We all lose.

~~~ This poem was written both for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads prompt of telling who won the election in 20 words or less and the Poetic Bloomings form prompt of writing a lune.

The Path to Peace

Peace by Sabine Sauermaul

Our human hearts long for peace

Yet too many cower in the face of danger,

Afraid to stand together

With the courageous conviction needed

To make peace a viable possibility.

Peace comes from strength.

The bullies and tyrants of the world 

Have no power if they have no prey;

They feed on the weakness and fear 

Of those who would acquiesce rather than fight.  

The path to peace cannot be found

In a tempest of politically correct pacifism 

That only serves to sacrifice our beliefs 

At the altar of the politically correct. 

Peace is truly the ultimate goal, 

A laudable aspiration

For any freedom-loving people,

One that we must be willing to

Work for,

Fight for,

And, if necessary,

Die for.

~~~~  This poem was written for a prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads asking us to write about peace.

Just Beneath Her Surface

Girl Behind the Mask by Junior Libby

Just beneath her surface
Discontent simmers,
The secret sorrow
That fuels hidden tears
For her sacrificed dreams,
All hidden
By her delusive smile.


~~~~ This was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 4 prompt, which directed us to make the title of our poem “Just Beneath (blank.)”

Never Alone

Monster by Francisco Farias Jr.

In this realm
Of unnatural darkness,
Caution is demanded.
I know I am not alone.
I hear footsteps,
Perhaps a spectral silhouette
Wandering
In search of retribution
For the sins of the past,
Unseen voices
Swirling around me
In guttural whispers,
The frigid breath
Of undetected demons
Chilling my bones.
I see eyes glowing
In the pitch black,
Always watching me,
A solitary soul
Caught in evil’s sight.


~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 3 prompt of “Write a poem that scares you.”

My Choice

The opportunity has always been there,

Tantalizingly close to my fingertips. 

The time has come 

To climb the ladder  

And grasp my guiding star.

I have the ability to choose my direction,

To make a course correction if necessary, 

And I choose to move on.

I will never be content 

To live in the shadows of life. 

I want my opportunity to blossom, 

To stand in the sun and have my day, 

To seek the applause 

I so desperately want to hear,

If only for just one moment.  

I am tired of suffering in silence. 

Let me sing once again with the breaking morn.  

I cannot continue the way things have been.  

I know that staying the course 

Is a sure path to suicide 

And I will not surrender anymore.

I will not cede my power 

To some bullying tyrant 

Holding me hostage in my own life.

This is my life.

This is my choice.

I choose me.

~~~ This poem was written in response to a prompt from Poetry Jam asking us to write about choices.

Walking with Ghosts

Haunted Graveyard 1 by Junior Libby

I walk with ghosts,
The last traces of those who came before.
They float past me like forsaken servants
Of diminished usefulness,
Watching my dreams and aspirations
Dance in the fire.
I plead to Mother Earth
To hear my cries and release me
From the chains in my life.
I see the power in the flames,
The same power that lies
Dormant in myself,
Awaiting permission
To manifest into my world.
These ghosts guide me
Through spectral whispers,
Teaching me that life and death
Are much the same;
The only difference lies
In the ability of others
To see where our walk is leading.


~~~~ This poem was written for a prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads asking us to write a ghost poem that incorporated a line from another poem about ghosts.  I chose a line from Anne Sexton’s “Ghosts.”

The Rogue Gods of Domestic Chaos

Socks by Peter Griffin

They send forth their minions
Who invade under the cover of the spin cycle,
Stealing socks and spiriting them away
Into the nether regions of the laundry,
Transforming cotton-woolen blends
Into wire coat hangers,
Those distorted instruments bent
On staging a clothing coup
And seizing control of our closets,
Leaving a path of disarray
Through our carefully constructed household bliss.

And that’s why you don't have any matched socks, dear.


~~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 1 prompt of writing a matches poem.