Pride

image

I was born of a lioness;
the pride of her.
And although I still grieve
everyday I grow stronger.
But on days like this
I hate that she had to leave.
Because the loss leaves me
A sad, crying mess

Sarah’s Peace

skylight

It is impossible to put on paper
who you truly were.
There are not enough words in any language
to describe
how huge your heart was,
how much you loved and gave of yourself,
the beauty of your voice
or the realness that you always hit us with.
Each hardship you suffered made you
Stronger, wiser, more faith filled.
Those of us who love you grieve
but we truly believe
that God has gained an angel
and so have we.

Do Not Send My People…

poetry-ink-blot

I am a poet. I have people, not like an entourage but my everyday people. You are all my people. Yes, following my blog makes me feel as if we’re all part of the cool nerd clique in middle and high school. Someone called me that when I was in the 8th grade; a cool nerd. So anyway, my other people include those who allow me to bug them while they’re on other continents or in the middle of lesson planning or in the midst of serious medical emergencies or who let me bug them when they’re “at work.” Anyway, this is a PSA to all the secret scribes hard at work on their craft. Please do not send my people any bad poems.

You all know me. I’m not a poetry snob. I like free verse and spoken word. I experiment with different types of poetry because I think that’s the mark of a committed poet. However, I always like poetry that makes sense. I like poems that expand the reader’s vocabulary. I really enjoy poems that cause thought but don’t cause your brain to bubble. You know those poems that need to be “deep” because all poetry is. Those are not the poems for me. I need poems that contain figurative language and literary devices. I like imagery. Wait, scratch that. I LOVE imagery and in my humble opinion the best poems allow the reader to imagine, they invoke, evoke, stimulate and stir. A bad poem doesn’t do any of that.

However, the one thing that a bad poem is guaranteed to do…is to make me want to rewrite it.

Blatant disregard of the signs (silly bastard)

This is an old piece that I’ve recently been tinkering with. I am in love with this piece, it was written right after a trip to Nassau but I think that it’s still a bit raw. So I will be working on it a bit but I wanted to share this version with you all.

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Had me
coloring my hair,
wearing makeup
and sexy clothes
Trying to make up
for the past
like it could be
erased by a Sagittarius baby tee
and lace panties

Had me holding
my breath
looking at the ground
As if I was afraid of
what I’d see if I looked
into your eyes
Scared to find a mirror
because I knew what
I would see in
mine

Had me coming
to your job
ready to fight
the competition
like we were in junior high
Wanted to slap every woman
who said hi when
I’ve never been the
jealous type of girlfriend
before

Had my eyes
so green
that my grandmother
confused me with my cousin
I tried to cover the insecurity with
domestic bliss spackle
but
it started to crack and
show the shiny spots
of slacking self-esteem

Had me spend
$2000 on a vacation
to Nassau
Got all bronzed in the sun
poured olive oil in my hair
then sipped tequila sours
While waiting for you
but it was a long wait
and not because your flight was late
Apparently my absence didn’t make your heart fonder
it just gave you the space to wander
away from what we shared
And I’m the only silly bastard
That cares.

Who Determines What is Enough?

writing

Every year, I set up a writing resolution list. This isn’t a fairly recent occurrence. I think that I started it in 2011. What I noticed last December as I was making my list, and as I look at it at least once a week, is that I often have the same thing on my writing resolution list. That one thing is: Write!!!

I also have it on the dry erase board on the mini fridge in my office. I couldn’t escape the idea that I need to be writing even if I wanted to. I keep a notebook in my purse and I’m never without my cell phone which has my beloved Evernote app on it. I plan to go back to carrying around index cards (I really love them). So I am always in a position to jot down notes or bits of inspiration.

I add it every year as a reminder to write and I end every year feeling that I never accomplished the goal. What I recently realized is that I am being way too hard on myself. And here’s why, as many of you know I am an eternal student. I have spent the past year and a half pursuing a second master’s. This one in English; so I have been writing every week, in addition to work that I create for the blog. Because I was narrowly viewing my writing as only being important if I am focusing solely on my creative writing I lost sight of the fact that my list doesn’t say to write creatively. It only says write. I write a lot of poetry and academic work, I write responses to my students, I write e-mail correspondence and little notes to myself and my friends. In the moments when I am down on myself for not writing enough fiction or feeling as though I am not paying enough attention to the blog or my writing. I have to make sure to remind myself that all of my writing is enough.