My Poetic Tongue

Tumblr account for Poetic Trials

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Repost Visual Poetry Quote for Viola

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Repost Visual Poetry Quote for Lemon Tart

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So this is a picture of a drawing I started, but I will not finish.  I will start over.  I wanted to draw my dream witch cottage, but this wasn’t meeting my ideas.  This is a reminder to attempt and it is okay to start over.

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Saturday Poetry Prompts

Write a poem about being clumsy Write a poem about love at first sight Write a poem about the good old days Write a poem about pain Write a poem about waking up in the morning

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Introductions

I dance through my gray hair and you see me. A women with a soft smile and gentle hands. The right slow song can teach a body to sway, and I move like reeds in an evening breeze. The moon knows how to make a cameo with a warm glow, and for a moment, you wear me at your throat. You bend it into a corsage of evening stars and bundled nerves, then slip your hello on my wrist.

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Dizzy, my fingers trip over the keyboard. My poetry finds a way to spill across the screen. Each one an accident that happens to have an endpoint.

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Grace is the bend of sunlight seeping through the window. Early morning, I feel a part of the tree tapping at my window. I press into the day, pushing into the window until my skin morphs into glass. Looking through myself, I can see the warmth and welcome of the day.

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Aching

Shoulders hunched forward and I feel energy spill to the ground. Dark ooze, or maybe shadows. I curl up and pick off of fuzz from shirt, then decide it is better to sleep than be held hostage by pain.

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Those Days

Pull the dandelion leaves from shoes. The wildflowers licked at the sides until rainbows stained them. I learned to dance in meadows under a cloudless sky. The sun kissed my skin and wrapped me in pink. Summer was my favorite childhood, running through my memories. It was skinned-knees and missing teeth. Laughter clatters between each thought and applause fills my head, leaving me…

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My Summer Soundtrack

Here are my common tunes for this summer: Beautiful in Los Angeles by Garrison Starr September by Daughtry Calling All Friends by the Low Stars First by Cold War Kids Play Dead by Ice Nine Kills Break it Down Again by Tears for Fears Vortex by Lizzy McAlpine Sabotage by Beastie Boys Gone, Gone, Gone by Autumn Kings Sweet but Psycho by Ava Max

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The Mall

People swirl around the open space and the mall becomes small. A small box shrinking as the crowd grows and I try to breathe. Find an opening on a bench and watch everyone stumble  over each other’s shadows. I clutch my shadow close to my feet, so it doesn’t get lost in the scuffle of shadow hands and feet. I count the number of steps to the door and take a deep breath once outside.

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Music Escape

Music notes skip off speakers and my shoulders sway in beat. I want to create a soundtrack with my body, and dance away my stress. Swing my hips, until troubles lose grip and topple on to the sidewalk. Problems shatter like ceramic cups exploding and scattering back into the shadows. I wrap myself in the rhythm and redress myself in the freedom of movement. Music provides a ladder for…

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The Storyteller

The room echoes pin drops and soft whispers. I learn to sleep on my side to muffle out the tiny clamors. I didn’t invest in haystacks, so I won’t search for the pins. Instead, I will shuffle through my planner for needlepoint details. Let them prick at my palms, so I can shout. The yelps will break apart the whispers, until the sentences reshuffle and build a new narrative. Learn to…

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Count One More Sheep

Recovery comes in an early bed time and at least three glasses of water. Drink down refreshing, so that it washes over tired bones and nagging pain. To lay in bed without screaming joints is a pleasure that every sheep counted requests. Once with closed eyes, shooting stars swirl around and around, spinning sleep into dreams and we drift away on flashes of light.

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Five Goals to Reach In the Next 30 Days

Getting back to consistently posting on my poetry blog Write five new poems Submit mini chapbook at end of July Get back to reading each day Set up a new writing routine

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Saturday Poetry Prompts

So, I did more of form theme this week. I wanted to do a haiku but found myself doing a four line poem. I decided the next day would be a five line poem and so on until I reached eights lines. I am thinking of carrying over to the next week to see about poems nine to thirteen lines. This is more of an exercise to get myself writing longer poems.

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Shifting of Hours

The afternoon is here before I wake up, and I wonder when I forgot about the morning. Shifting to the clock’s arms, my body cracks and snaps into an upright position. The grinding of my joints clatter like gears trying to connect to the right hour. Before my eyes focus on the outside, the evening slinks in and I find myself back in bed.