Addiction

You are my only vice.
Okay, "only" is a little dramatic;
I have other vices it's just...

*sigh*

you are the most troublesome
& tormenting of the lot.
Don't be dishearten;
while your radiance is pure torture,
the idea of giving you up
is laughable.

You see...

every blushing dawn I awake
without the taste of you,
only serves to remind me
I am flawed;

every lustrous moonbeam that shimmers
without the touch of you,
casts shadows about me that
I must negotiate;

every gust of wind I breathe
without the scent of you,
steals any hint of amazement until
I feel jaded.

What else is there for me to do,
but crave the taste, touch & scent
of you?

For without you, life
is a gnarled noiseless deafening
courtship with discontentment,

but with you, life
is a generous tranquil majestic
courtship with excitement;

for you
undress the worthless feelings
that impede me
& arouse a fearlessness
making me invulnerable.

---

On inspiration for this piece: This idea was pulled from Poetic Asides's 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 26. "For today’s prompt, take a word or two invented by William Shakespeare, make it the title of your poem, and write your poem."  While the title indeed is one of the "invented" words, I also include a handful of them throughout this piece; totaling, with the title, 30 words.

Again, trying to step outside of myself for a bit.  Sometimes when expelling evils it takes more of a toll than just letting them fester.  Or maybe it is simply the fact that if done time after time it wears, especially when not balanced with more uplifting (hopeful), even if fictional, thoughts.

On a side note, this piece feels as though it was meant to be read aloud.

Watching the Tides Turn

Across the sea of people he follows

an angel among mortals, pure as light;

she wades in and out of his vision,

his breath catching each time she disappears;

but such a tale could only end in woes.

Still he feels the flame within him ignite;

his eyes unable to tear away from

this angel among mortals, pure as light.

His heart beats out the rhythm of a drum

as she wades in and out of vision;

he knows there is no choice but to succumb,

for his breath stills each time she disappears.

He breathes in his resolve; the time has come

to brave the crowd and forget all his fears.

Who cares if this tale ends only in woes

and his is the only flame to ignite!

At last he wades in fixed on his vision;

as he braves the crowd forgetting his fears,

across the sea of people, she follows.

---

On inspiration for this piece: This idea was pulled from Poetic Asides's 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 25. "For today’s prompt, write an across the sea poem."

Decided it was time for me to get outside of myself for a bit.  It hasn't been quite a happy place to reside in.  Struggling through this little tale help a bit. 

Vulnerable

I built a safe room around
my most precious
& fragile possession.
How else could I keep myself
from coming apart?
from unraveling?

Now here you stand
threatening my very existence
because though safely locked away
I can hear the steady beat
grow louder & louder
taunting my delicate mind
every time you are near.

I built a safe room around
my most precious
& fragile possession.
Who could have guessed
I'd still be susceptible
to heartache?

---

On inspiration for this piece: This idea was pulled from Poetic Asides's 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 15. "For today’s prompt, pick an adjective, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem."

So of course you're wondering how I selected my word.  I thought about using the "word of the day" from my dictionary app, but it wasn't a adjective...and when I went backwards in days the first adjective I came across was from the 12th...caseous which means "of or like cheese"...yeah, that wasn't going to happen.  So instead, I went to the section where you could see what words were trending as well as what words were recently search anywhere on the map.  So I went ahead and zoomed in on my location and found someone nearby (even possibly in the same building - I zoomed in pretty close)...thus vulnerable.

An aside:  It is day 15...that means I made it halfway through...even though I feel myself waning, I will continue to push on...hopefully....

He Loves Me? or...Loves Me Not?

forgive the petals
appearance, I left only
those that bare my heart

---

On inspiration for this piece: This idea was pulled from Poetic Asides's 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 7. The theme for this prompt is apparently a two-for deal. "You can choose one of the two options; choose both options; and/or blend the two together in some way. Just be sure to write a poem." The two are love or anti-love.

Blurred ~ Blackout Poetry #3

Blurred

my answer blurred
in the laughter
frolicking

on the edge of
his full lips

---

A note on form:  Blackout poetry...Erasure poetry...Redacted poetry...by whatever name you wish to call it....  The above construction is formed by taking an already existing piece of work (whether from a book or newspaper or any other written entity) and removing words until you are left with something that hopefully makes sense.

About this series:  My goal is to challenge myself to unearth some semblance of sense through the use of blackout/erasure poetry.

Attribution:   Blackout Poetry unearthed from a page in Erin Kelly’s novel, The Poison Tree.

Finding Home ~ Blackout Poetry #2

Finding Home

you kissed
my heart

and I
was home

---

A note on form:  Blackout poetry...Erasure poetry...Redacted poetry...by whatever name you wish to call it....  The above construction is formed by taking an already existing piece of work (whether from a book or newspaper or any other written entity) and removing words until you are left with something that hopefully makes sense.

About this series:  My goal is to challenge myself to unearth some semblance of sense through the use of blackout/erasure poetry. 

Attribution:   Blackout Poetry unearthed from a page in Erin Kelly’s novel, The Poison Tree.

The Wait ~ Blackout Poetry #1

The Wait

time shrugs
revealing boundaries;

only love
makes the waiting
thrilling.

---

A note on form:  Blackout poetry...Erasure poetry...Redacted poetry...by whatever name you wish to call it....  The above construction is formed by taking an already existing piece of work (whether from a book or newspaper or any other written entity) and removing words until you are left with something that hopefully makes sense.

About this series:  My goal is to challenge myself to unearth some semblance of sense through the use of blackout/erasure poetry.  This piece is technically my second attempt at such a feat, but the start of this new plight and thus marked as Blackout Poetry #1.  I have, for the fun of it, included my first attempt below.

Attribution (above):   Blackout Poetry unearthed from a page in Erin Kelly’s novel, The Poison Tree.

Attribution (below):   Blackout Poetry unearthed from a page in Debbie Viguié’s novel, Violet Eyes.

---

Dancing Down the Storm

A storm--
charged with intensity
of every terrible moment--
died,
when she danced.

Too Late

---

A note on form:  This is  my third attempt at the form developed by Gay Reiser Cannon. She has dubbed it by two names, "Falling Diamonds" and "Quarrel."

"It is composed of a series of lines beginning with one line of one iambic foot, then two, three, four, five, four, three, two iambic feet and then again one iambic foot where the one foot lines must rhyme. Basically then the form is blank verse that is shaped in diamonds or triangles with one sustaining middle rhyme. You may choose to add either internal or end rhymes as well but the only requirement is for the one foot lines to rhyme. Hyphenating end words is prohibited. A minimum of two diamonds should be made." (Cannon, 2014)

In her most recent exploration of the form, she spoke of how adjusting the structure slightly would allow for this form to be utilized to tell two sides of a story or a conversation between two individuals.  This is my second attempt at varying the structure, yet this time I worked to better maintain the diamond form.  I also created the piece so that the middle (shared line) can actually be used to end the first diamond and/or start the second diamond.

About the structure:  While I was able to get the desired effect to appear for me, the device used to view or even the screen resolution some choose to use could throw off the visual.  And so, in order to counteract this I decided to create it as an image instead.

Short Circuit

I'm finding it hard,
as of late,
to like me;

it's not because of any
wrongdoing on my part,
I'm just hardwired that way.

I'm tired of looking,
               wishing,
         hoping,
dreaming;

it's times like these,
as the glass jar shrinks in
around me, that I wish
there were no air holes.

Seven-or-Ten-ling (The curse weighs...)

An aside before the piece:  While the first stanza came relatively easily, the second was a bit of a pain.  In the end, my torn thoughts resulted in to separate second stanzas.  Leaving me unable to decide which was the better fit.  Part of me had thought maybe I could throw all three together and expand a sevenling into a tenling, but I wasn't really feeling the three together...then again...

---

Seven-or-Ten-ling (The curse weighs...)

The curse weighs heavy like sleeping
beauty, snow white, and the beast
all waiting on true love's kiss.

The hero lies deep within - chained,
voiceless, and locked away - fighting
a wicked evil bound of fear.

Magic does not exist, not in enchanted
carpets, not in glowing hair, nor
in mirrors that hang upon the wall.

I'd kiss the mirror if it meant releasing my hero.

---

A note on form:  As stated above this was intended to be a sevenling.  Under normal circumstances the poem would consist of three stanzas (3 lines, 3 lines, and 1 line) totaling seven lines.  Unfortunately, I was having difficulty settling on the above stanza 2 and 3 as the second stanza of this piece.  I was torn with the order of the stanza 2 and 3...part of me felt like I should put them in the reverse order to flow with the linked words in the final line (kiss, mirror, hero); in the end I made a minor tweak to the first line of the third stanza in order for it to flow better in its current spot. 

Behind Closed Eyes

as darkness blankets the land
the moon and stars awaken
untold stories shoot across
closed eyelids laden with
rampant thoughts longing to still
in so doing tension drains
opening the mind to truths
hidden in the recesses
of uncharted depths where dreams
take on new meaning and love
love can shine in the darkest
of corners and grow beyond
simple imaginations

Finding True North

I steal shadows
light by light
snuffed out
leaving nothing
but us
seeking
each others light

Puzzle Master (or Matchmaker)

---

A note on form:  Put quite simply, this form was dubbed by its creator as TenWords.  I'll give you one guess why.  And while I realize that ten words was meant to be enough, I could not help myself but enhance it by adding it to a picture.

Still

---

A note on form:  Recently over at dVerse Poets Pub, poets we're asked to through their hat in the ring for inventing a poetic form.  There were a lot of interesting ones presented.  So, I figured I'd try to give some of them a go.  This was created for those with short attention spans.  Sparked from the mind of Brian Miller comes the form he has dubbed tenWord.

On whittling down:  One might think ten words should be easy to put together, but...well they'd be wrong, at least for me.  This started as "every breath is a labor of love; I wish was for me." (12 words)  Then I managed, "every breath is a labor of love, just not for me." (11 words)  Getting closer. It actually took me way too long to realize a contraction would get me to the final count of ten.

About the image:  The photo was taken by me.  The original rose was a deep pink.  I used an app called Aviary to edit to what you see above (minus the words).  As to the words...which have a magnetic poetry feel...they were added using an app called Poetics.

Desensitize

Phase One

I stare - 5 minutes straight -
at my reflection in the mirror
   and watched
as the tears forged a path down
along my cheek to the corner
   of my mouth
and I'll do it again tomorrow
and the next day & the next day
   until
      the tears run dry

Phase Two 

I will repeat the words over
and over again like a mantra
   while I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
- glistening tears creasing my cheeks -
   and hold
my breath day after day after day
against the emotions threatening me
   until
      the tears run dry

Phase Three

With an expel of breath
I'll stutter the words aloud
   as I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
focused on the glassy eyes
   streaming
tears with each uneasy
word that crosses my lips
   until
      the tears run dry

Phase Four

I will steel myself and look people
in the eye as I pass them by
   my mantra
repeating over and over
tears prickling at the threshold
   still
I will lift my eyes to theirs
and focus on simply breathing
   until
      the tears run dry

Phase Five

Once I conquer
   "you are beautiful"
I will work on
   "your are loved"
followed by
   "you deserve to be happy"

Sevenling (She believes in...)

She believes in happily ever after, in
monsters under the bed, & objects imbued
with magic ("Mirror, Mirror on the wall...)

She fears falling in love, the monster
buried deep within, & looking at her own
reflection ("Who is the fairest of them all?")

She only lets her heart roam free when the full moon graces the evening sky.

---

A note on form:  This, as the title so eloquently states, is a sevenling.  From the moment I first came across this form to the several times I've been exposed to it since, I still don't feel like I really have a handle on this form.  The guidelines seem to vague to me and no matter how many times I read about the form or see examples I still feel at a loss.  Of course, that doesn't stop me form making it my own nunetheless.

Unspoken, but Avowed Nonetheless

Her:  It's been over a month.  *sigh* Does it bother you that I'm still not ready?

Him:  You feel quite ready to me.

Her:  [ She shakes her head slightly. ]  You know that is not what I mean.

Him:  hmm....  No.  [ He wraps his arms a little more tightly around her. ]  No, it doesn't bother me.  Don't...don't get me wrong, I thoroughly look forward to hearing the words cross those perfect lips of yours, but...I don't need to hear the words to know their truth.  I can feel them in every glance, every smile, in your biting wit, in the perfect silences that rest between us, in every - single - simple - touch...

[ He shifts his grip, causing her to turn around in his arms and face him. ]

Him:  I can taste the words
                             on the tip of your tongue
                                                             every time
                                                                          we kiss.

Her:  That was very poetic of you.

Him:  ^shrug^ What can I say, you're rubbing off on me.

[ He lifts his hand to cup the side of her face, gently brushes her cheek with his thumb, and leans in for a taste of the three little words that reside in her heart, but torment her mind. ]

---

On (or about) conversation:  I haven't quite found a comfort level with adding dialogue to my poetry.  I have done so on occasions, but I still can't get a feel for it.  It's kind of funny to me, as I was thinking about this write that my thoughts paralleled a previous dialogue post.  I think dialogue appeals to me because I lack the ability (the grace) to say what lies beneath the surface (partly because I shy away from conversation in general - the ill effects of social anxiety).  Of course I wage a lot of what I write exists due to my inability to connect in the world beyond the ones I like to fabricate.

Own the Lies to Own the Truth – and Love

Close your eyes and listen with your heart

don't ignore the truth it does impart; 

Own this feeling blossoming within, 

loose yourself in this insane whirlwind.

You deserve to be compete – to feel 

more – far more than dreamed; you needn't conceal 

nor inter the fear that binds, instead...

Share it!  Own it!  Breathe it!  Kill it dead!

There is much of you to love, you need 

but renounce the lies that fear does breed.

Shut them out – escape the pain – be free.

Close your eyes – the truth is hard to see.

---

Thoughts appreciated:  Currently the poem ends as I had initially intended in the last line, but after finishing the piece, I felt a little bit of a nag to change the final rhymes.  There is part of me that wants to hold true to the original inspiration for this piece and yet another that kind of likes the alternate ending.  Feel free to share your thoughts...here is the alternate final lines:

"Shut them out – escape the pain and fear;

close your eyes – the truth is hard to hear."

Inspiration for this piece:  This poem began with a simple line that popped into my head, "close your eyes the truth is hard to see."  After finding the 9 syllable phrase sounding nicely like trochee with an extra stress at the end (or as I prefer to think of it, iambic with an extra stress at the start), I thought it lent itself well to form.  So I set off to write the piece with this as the opening line.  It didn't take long before it found it's way from the leading line to the closing line.

  

A note on form:  This piece is a variation on the Framed Couplet.  (I like to call it a Chained Couplet.)  The form is composed of 9 syllable lines written (as mentioned above) in iambic meter with an extra stress to start off.  It also incorporates a beginning rhyme (on the first syllable) and an ending rhyme pairing each couplet like this.  In this variation, I have staggered the beginning and ending rhymes creating more of chain line between each and utilizing the same word as the first syllable in the opening and closing line to create a clasp of sorts.

Philophobia

My heart is pounding—set in overdrive
as thoughts of love corrode me from inside;
and so I hide away in hopes my knight
shall never find the truth.
                                           Mask applied,
I step beyond the darkness where I wage
a war against myself.
                                    I can't be saved–

my heart is petrified and I am made
of nothing — nothing — still I turn and face
the world as though I'm whole, all while I nurse
a fear so great that there exists no church
that can absolve my soul.
                                           I am no worse
for wear, though love will never be my purse;

my heart is lost to love.
                                        There's no way back–
I have no choice except to live with that.

---

Inspiration for this piece: A prompt set forth by dVerse Poets Pub:

"Today, I’d like to challenge the dVerse community to play bout rimés with the following set of rhymes, which are taken from a sonnet by a contemporary poet:
drive, side, night, lied, wage, saved,made, face, nurse, church, worse,purse, back, that."

I did my best to adhere to the sonnets iambic pentameter, but I've never really been fond of writing in strict meter...so I cannot guarantee I managed it.

In the end, I have no idea if this piece makes sense or expresses the title as well as I wish, but it feels (frustratingly) good to write something more than what I've been able to conjure up as of late.

Poetics: Butterfly

Butterfly