NaPoWriMo Day 7, poem 9/30: I was traveling today, so didn't do a prompt. This was inspired by Lance Bass's tweet yesterday that it's been 9 years since the infamous Britney and Madonna kiss.
The Defense
She's guilty
until proven
good and I have
no evidence.
When you spend your life believing
you've got nowhere to go
back to.
I can't lockdown
her chastity
so I'll open the doors
close my eyes and hope
she'll be back someday.
A poetry blog about love, loss, sex, sexuality, gender, depression, fantasy, and everything in between.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Animal
NaPoWriMo Day 6, poem 8/30: Wasn't feeling the Marianne Moore prompt, but it did get me thinking about animals. This is about how some opponents of gay marriage say that if same-sex marriage is allowed, the next step will be people marrying dogs.
Animal
If I ring
your finger, they say
we might as well be animals.
Just say the words
that bind us,
predator and prey.
Declawed
we tear at each other
ripping away these female
bodies, shredding
their laws and fashions.
Show your white teeth, call
me minx, bind me up
and cage me.
I might be feral.
Animal
If I ring
your finger, they say
we might as well be animals.
Just say the words
that bind us,
predator and prey.
Declawed
we tear at each other
ripping away these female
bodies, shredding
their laws and fashions.
Show your white teeth, call
me minx, bind me up
and cage me.
I might be feral.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Opening Night
NaPoWriMo Day 5, poem 7/30: Today's prompt was opening day of baseball. I'm not a big baseball fan and I actually just wrote a short story about baseball last night, but I had the idea to write about the opening night of a show and a special first in my life: my first love. I've been trying to write this scene for about 6 years now and I've never been satisfied with what I come up with. Finally, I think I've got it.
Opening Night
She has the paint
to cover up that virgin skin,
to rim soft eyes until they see
the last row,
to make her lips sparkle
crimsonly.
From seventeen to showgirl
in all of ten minutes,
she is an oversized version
of herself, a character
that shares her name.
She beautymarks her cheek,
throws a handful of glitter
to the air
to catch on her hairspray
and her painted face,
to dust
my little black shoes.
I love you
is not in my dictionary tonight
so I won't say a thing.
Opening Night
She has the paint
to cover up that virgin skin,
to rim soft eyes until they see
the last row,
to make her lips sparkle
crimsonly.
From seventeen to showgirl
in all of ten minutes,
she is an oversized version
of herself, a character
that shares her name.
She beautymarks her cheek,
throws a handful of glitter
to the air
to catch on her hairspray
and her painted face,
to dust
my little black shoes.
I love you
is not in my dictionary tonight
so I won't say a thing.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Red
NaPoWriMo Day 4, Poem 6/30: This one is based on today's prompt - something in the style of the blues song. Not really my style, but here goes.
Inspired by all the Jeanette Winterson I've been reading and the red-haired woman who always shows up to break someone's heart.
Red
I'm waiting for a red-haired girl
Not any kind of red-haired girl
One who walks by and brakes my world
She's got my heart tangled up in her hair
Thousands of hearts tangled up in her hair
I know she's taken, for once I don't care
I'll follow her, wind, sleet, or snow
Right behind her, wind, sleet, or snow
Cross Europe, cross space, wherever she'll go
She loves me little, I give too much
She loves me sometimes, I love too much
I'll do what it takes for her look or her touch
One day she'll vanish in the crowd
One day I'll lose her in the crowd
I'll cry her name but it's just too loud
My eyes are tired, my body aches
I'm just so tired, everything aches
I'll stand by the water and watch for her wake
Gamble like that and you'll only lose
Bet on your heart and you'll only lose
It burns but I've finally found my Muse
I'll write her, write her day and night
All locked up alone through the day and night
For once the words all come out right
Inspired by all the Jeanette Winterson I've been reading and the red-haired woman who always shows up to break someone's heart.
Red
I'm waiting for a red-haired girl
Not any kind of red-haired girl
One who walks by and brakes my world
She's got my heart tangled up in her hair
Thousands of hearts tangled up in her hair
I know she's taken, for once I don't care
I'll follow her, wind, sleet, or snow
Right behind her, wind, sleet, or snow
Cross Europe, cross space, wherever she'll go
She loves me little, I give too much
She loves me sometimes, I love too much
I'll do what it takes for her look or her touch
One day she'll vanish in the crowd
One day I'll lose her in the crowd
I'll cry her name but it's just too loud
My eyes are tired, my body aches
I'm just so tired, everything aches
I'll stand by the water and watch for her wake
Gamble like that and you'll only lose
Bet on your heart and you'll only lose
It burns but I've finally found my Muse
I'll write her, write her day and night
All locked up alone through the day and night
For once the words all come out right
Three
NaPoWriMo Day 4, Poem 5/30: No prompt, just came up with this on the Metro this morning. So go easy on me, it was only 8:30 AM.
Three
I live a life of three
me and you and someone you love
me and you and someone hurting me
when I was young it was apparent
friends will never work in three
why should love be different?
you loved me before you let her know
you loved another holding me
line up the next, then let go
it's been three times that I've been burned
it's been three times I haven't won
it's been three times I haven't learned
three turns have I lost and hurt
three turns of embarrassed tears
three turns and you're not the worst
time to love not you but me
to take a rest, to muddle through
to start again this life of three
or someday just a life of two
Three
I live a life of three
me and you and someone you love
me and you and someone hurting me
when I was young it was apparent
friends will never work in three
why should love be different?
you loved me before you let her know
you loved another holding me
line up the next, then let go
it's been three times that I've been burned
it's been three times I haven't won
it's been three times I haven't learned
three turns have I lost and hurt
three turns of embarrassed tears
three turns and you're not the worst
time to love not you but me
to take a rest, to muddle through
to start again this life of three
or someday just a life of two
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
something old something new
NaPoWriMo Day 3, Poem 4/30: weddings
This was one of the best poetry-writing experiences I've ever had. It illuminated how I feel about weddings and marriage in some unexpected ways.
something old something new
I never planned
for this
I for all my
imagining
never thought of dresses
or flowers or love
I had no intentions of
first dances
I was happy
to dance alone
I like any good young
rebel
I never wanted it
until it was
forbidden
at twenty-one I believed
in fairytales in
a white princess gown
and silver shoes
and pink roses
once I knew there was no Prince
Charming
I wanted the ever after
I don't know where
we stand
what end of the aisle
to await her
but with the whole world between us
I will see her face
I will go to her and swear
I won't let go
This was one of the best poetry-writing experiences I've ever had. It illuminated how I feel about weddings and marriage in some unexpected ways.
something old something new
I never planned
for this
I for all my
imagining
never thought of dresses
or flowers or love
I had no intentions of
first dances
I was happy
to dance alone
I like any good young
rebel
I never wanted it
until it was
forbidden
at twenty-one I believed
in fairytales in
a white princess gown
and silver shoes
and pink roses
once I knew there was no Prince
Charming
I wanted the ever after
I don't know where
we stand
what end of the aisle
to await her
but with the whole world between us
I will see her face
I will go to her and swear
I won't let go
Monday, April 2, 2012
At This Moment
NaPoWriMo Day 2, poem 3/30: inspired by the #1 song on the day you were born. Mine is "At This Moment" by Billy Vera and the Beaters. I've never actually heard the song and didn't get a chance to listen before I wrote my poem on lunch break, so I just used the title for inspiration.
At This Moment
At this moment
I have given up on giving up.
At this moment
I want sun on my pale skin
and satin shoes in the grass.
At this moment
you are in the square, the quad,
the Mall reading Eliot
and laughing at my words.
At this moment
you can fall asleep behind oversized
sunglasses
and I will keep watch
and put dandelions
in your hair.
At this moment
no one looks
and you don't care about my name
or the blank space between
my legs.
At this moment
for just one moment
you blaze
then disappear
leaving blind spots in my eyes
and ashes on my tongue.
At This Moment
At this moment
I have given up on giving up.
At this moment
I want sun on my pale skin
and satin shoes in the grass.
At this moment
you are in the square, the quad,
the Mall reading Eliot
and laughing at my words.
At this moment
you can fall asleep behind oversized
sunglasses
and I will keep watch
and put dandelions
in your hair.
At this moment
no one looks
and you don't care about my name
or the blank space between
my legs.
At this moment
for just one moment
you blaze
then disappear
leaving blind spots in my eyes
and ashes on my tongue.
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