she will change

NaPoWriMo Day 10, poem 12/30: Today's prompt was to start with a line from an existing poem. I went to my Yeats book, since one of his poems was the inspiration for this blog, and chose a poem (mostly) at random. This poem begins with the first line of "Young Man's Song," part IX of "Words for Music Perhaps."

This is actually the second poem I attempted. The first was written in a moment of rage and sadness this morning, but I now know that what I was so upset about was actually not true. So I kept the first few lines and rewrote a poem based on today's mistakes.

she will change

"She will change," I cried
but I speak mistakes
fluently.
For a flicker
she's different
but can't unravel
the days and years
of story.
Her naivete has lost
its adolescence
yet it just won't grow
up yet.
She believes
invisible ink promises
and secondhand
hearsay.
She wishes for a small
alteration, just
one,
a miniature heart
tattooed on the blue-white
of her wrist
but she is too afraid
of hurting.

The Lady Chuffrey Reflects

NaPoWriMo Day 9, poem 11/30: persona poem prompt. My choice of persona was kind of lazy, but I like how this came out. My choice of character was Gregory Maguire's Glinda.

The Lady Chuffrey Reflects

There is no prison
like a lie.
I'm not often clever
so I chant the words
I've linked just
so.
There is no prison
is no
prison
like
a lie.
I've been often
locked
in stays and
skirts and
men's embraces and
public
personality
celebrity
opinion.
If only I could speak
the words
to set me
free.
Come, courage
come, honesty and touch
me once again.
The longer I hold
out
the less
of me I have.
There is no life lived
in your absence,
there is no
prison
like a lie.

Run Out

NaPoWriMo Day 8, poem 10/30: Vaguely inspired by the color prompt yesterday, but I'm very tired so I didn't feel like really milking the color.

Run Out

Yellow is not the color
of fear
but of silence.
I sit beneath electric-banana walls
and wish us back
to the days
I allowed myself to speak.
I had words words words
to seek you
to touch you
but your yellow corner stands
bare
and I've run out
of promises and wishes
and lies.

The Defense

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.

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.

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.

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