On the Other Hand

Earlier this month, there was a poetry prompt from Poetic Asides to write an "on the other hand" poem.  I had an idea, but didn't get it down on paper until this past week.

Other Handedness

She holds his
heart in her bitter
hands, clutching,
clawing, until
she squeezes the life out of
him, for one last time.

Or maybe
it'll be like all
the other
times when she
deftly avoids any real
connection to him.

Saturday

I finally finished Nikki Sixx's book this morning.  A friend asked the other day how the book was.  I could've gushed forever, but I think sad, honest, haunting and inspiring sums it up.

And I have a couple poems that I've been sitting on because I've been too busy, too tired, or both, to get to the blog and post them.

Tried to do a fibonacci with this one.  Not the best attempt I'm sure, but the moment stirred emotions and inspired words.  The picture is from two winters ago, same church, different time.

Small
church
on the
hill, nestled
away from the road,
surrounded by old trees that stand
just as proud as they are crooked, how often have I

silently admired your simple beauty without
even stepping foot inside.  I
welcome the peace as
a black charred
top bares
its
soul

to the sky.  Unfaltering faith pours through a fine mist
of rain.  Blue and red lights cut the
morning around the
tiny church
across
the
road

Frazzled

I found this picture and thought it looked about how I feel - just a little bit frazzled.  Except instead of 'one of those days', it's one of those weeks; Tuesday when it felt like it should've been Thursday or Friday.

I've finished one poem recently, and started two others that sit in my notebook, barely an idea forming.  I wonder how I did it every day for 30 days in April because I can't seem to focus right now.  With all of the end of the year activities for school and my calendar looking like a small explosion, I'm just spinning.

Hopefully, I can come back up for some air soon.

No More Rain

It's been raining for the past two days and barely reaching the 60s.  Friday, I took a picture of the bird feeder that the husband and Youngest had bought.  This picture just makes me feel good.  I can still have sunshine and bird song even when it rains.

Poetic Bloomings

I thought I'd take a break from writing today since the Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day Challenge ended, but a new venture between two awe-inspiring poets from the same challenge sprouted, and I couldn't resist participating.  I'll be adding my meager attempts, and hopefully learn more about poetry along the way. 

I had a headache most of the day.  Managed two very small poems (only posted one) at Poetic Bloomings.  The first prompt was to write a "seed" poem.


*Forget-Me-Not

Soil under fingernails
disrupts the earthworm.
Seeds scattered and buried.
Sunshine and water brings to
life the bright blue petals
with a butter yellow center.

*This poem was a pretty simple idea because I just couldn't dig up much more, but it does hold a lot of meaning, for me anyway, because the packet of forget-me-not seeds I'd planted was a sympathy gift from our vet after our cat, Storm, died a couple years ago.

Brown Thumb

I try to coax life
from the tiny seeds,
but my fumbling brown thumb
could wilt a silk plant.