NaPoWriMo: Day 6

"I want you to want me.
I need you to need me.
I'd love you to love me.
I'm begging you to beg me.
                           --Cheap Trick

Everything starts with a simple want.
We want this, I want that.
It could be a want to have,
to try,
to feel.
We all want things to help us feel alive.

Want turns to need in time
A cure for the long-set-in itch
left by years of the drugs used
so she could dull the pain,
so she wouldn't feel the bruises left on her by lover's fists.

Need becomes love -
A love for something after the need is gone -
Or you think it's gone.
You begin to love the high,
the ride,
the escape from black eyes and a battered soul.

and what happens after want becomes need
and need becomes love?

You fall down on your hands and knees.
You beg
Like a dog for a bone.
No satisfaction. It's inevitable.
We all beg, in the end,
For our lives.

NaPoWriMo: Day 5

Cheating! Poetry writing class assignment! :)

"The Piano"

52 ivories,
the accepted standard, A through G.
36 ebonies,
sharps and flats, anomalies stuck between.
88 total keys,
a combination of the beautiful and awkward
making it perfect and complete.


The dented and bruised base -
scars from the abuse of years past.
Black ink stains the keys
Stuck there from years of frustration
from when the music just wouldn't write itself.


By candlelight, it waits to be played,
to be used -
for its purpose to be fulfilled.
The melody that is played is a
perfect representation of the artist.
A balance between loneliness -
all played in a minor key -
and a deep-seated hope -
The occasional major chord -
stemming from emotions locked inside.

Music is where she hides.
The only way of honest expression
without saying how she feels.
Piano - her one defense -
Like her, worn out and battered
and played to death.
Used time and time again
until one day when, finally,
it breaks.

NaPoWriMo: Day 4

Cheating today! This is a poem I wrote while in college for Intro. to Poetry Writing class. One of my favorite classes in college!

"Where I'm From"

I am from rolling hills and farmlands,
from drag races and Friday Night Lights
Where you'll hear the occasional, "That's ma boy!"
or maybe even see grown men throwing punches.

I am from the ashes of bonfires past.
Celebrating end of school or the return of
a loved one from a war, never ending,
and kind faces of those who light the fires once more.

I am from bars and saloons.
Loud country music in the air,
always playing on and on.
Drowning out the troubles of the day
with a pint or two of whatever's on tap that night.

I'm from warm, home-cooked meals -
fried chicken, rice, and gravy -
and lazy Sunday afternoons.
I'm from traditional homes,
traditional Southern values,
and sweet tea and biscuits.
Never changing with the times.

I'm from, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it,"
and, "oh darlin', bless your heart."
I'll never forget hearing those phrases repeated
for years and years
My family - a broken record.

I'm from Hudson Brothers and Richmond Pines,
from roads leading to big towns
and the adventures within them.
From the pecan trees at Papa's house
where we'd play hide and seek,
and the metal jungle gym in the park
where Ryan fell and broke his collarbone
and scared us half to death.

I'm from behind the red door
on a neighborhood street
where children can be found playing in their yards.
Travel up the wooden stairs,
into the room with burgundy and grey walls...

That's where I'm from.

NaPoWriMo: Day 3

Why?
Why join?
Why fight?
It's not your war.
It's not your battle.
It's theirs.
Always fighting.
But why fight their war?
You always have a choice.
Instead...let's go away to foreign lands
Guns blazing.
Motivated.
Ready to kill.
What did these men really do to you?
Sure, your country needs you.
Sure, you want to be a hero.
But
What happens when your blood is spilled?
What do we do
When nothing is left but
Ashes


**Let me end this by saying I am very supportive of our troops. This was a stream of consciousness poem and I had a specific person in mind when writing it. I, in no way, think anything negative of our military. I commend them for everything that they are doing for me and for this country.

NaPoWriMo: Day 2

Sometimes I feel the wind.
It whispers secrets to me.
Tells me all the things I long to hear
Along with everything I don't.
"Love will conquer all," it says,
"but the battle is long for you.
Blood will be shed before the end."
It gives me hope.
Frightens me even more.
The wind cannot lie.
It knows everything...everyone.
Still speaking softly, it grows cold.
There is a chill of death
and destruction,
sadness,
despair.
The wind warns me,
Tells me to run.
It will carry me away.
Far from the troubles of this place.
Carry me to a new world -
Somewhere I belong.
A place where the wind is warm,
Where love is always there.
Where hope can be found.

NoPoWriMo: Day 1

Today officially starts National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). I'm going to attempt to do this and share poetry on here every day this month! Good luck to me! :)

Sun blacked out today.
The world grows cold.
People search in all directions
For help that was promised.
--Where are you now?
--Where are the soldiers?
--Where is the relief we need?
Blood drenched hands claw the soil -
Searching, feeling, scratching,
Tearing apart once solid ground.
It fades away from lies and broken trust.
--Why did you lie?
--Why did you use her?
--Why can't she feel?
She doesn't breathe anymore.
Not fluently - not healthy.
She gasps and chokes on all of it -
All of the pain tucked inside.
--How will I survive this?
--How can I make it through?
--How can I make it stop??
The world darkens and ice consumes.
Cold prevails over us completely.
Hope dies. Love fades away.
No survivors at all.