Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
April Musings - 3. NaPoWriMo 2016 - Week One
Poem #1:
April Fools
Gray skies menace
green shoots clawing like zombie fingers
through thawing earth.
White flakes attempt to impede their progress –
not succeeding as the laughing tendrils
reach for the hidden sun.
Poem #2:
Three Reasons for Eating Ice Cream in Winter
Cold headache, hot shower.
Creamy sweetness melting over hot apples in a flaky nest.
Blanketed by the fireplace like hot fudge cascading over vanilla mountains.
Poem #3:
Sleep-addled brain struggles to find
the difference between dream and reality.
Cocooned by blankets and cats,
It’s too comfortable to leave the snuggly warmth.
Coffee would help, but is prohibited.
Damn doctors.
There is only one thing motivating enough
to provoke movement on this cold, snowy
Sunday.
Ah…
Sweet relief.
Poem #4:
I don’t want this giant black dog
Chained to me, guarding my emotions,
Keeping others at arm’s length.
I want to celebrate life.
As if I were free from pain.
Free from Thomas’ affliction.
As if warmth and light radiated from within.
As if laughter were an every-day occurrence.
I don’t want to remain a prisoner of depression.
I want to live uncaged, happy,
And human.
As if walking on feet instead of eggshells.
As if breathing was not something to be reminded to do.
As if anxiety were not a tangible thing, hiding around every corner.
I don't want to feed these beasts when they beg for sustenance.
I want the dark night of my soul to end in light.
As if I was worthy of ascension.
Poem #5:
Bent fingers, knotted and wrinkled,
Caress the worn oak.
The passage of time is marked the same
On both visages –
Crevices and lines not there when new.
The wrinkles fade as the woman that is
remembers the girl that was.
The same smile graces both their faces
Until obscured by falling drops
On black and white memories.
The shadow on the wall chases kittens and puppies,
And boys, and children, before merging with the
Stooped form rummaging through
Hand-sewn quilts patched with long-forgotten
Fabrics worn by people
The next generation will only meet through
Tattered photos and diary entries.
Finding the sought treasure, she clutches it to her chest
Before rising and shuffling to the next room,
Hand in hand with the shadow-girl,
Ready to let go.
Poem #6:
Narcissist
Beauty reflected by mirrored water
conceals the monster within.
- 8
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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