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Tag Archives: National Poetry Writing Month

sleeping beauty

you sleep so sweetly
in the warm afternoon sun
what do you dream of?

 

NaPoWriMo Day 22! I guess I’m in haiku mode. I wrote this and then realized it was a haiku afterwards. Now I’m afraid I must wake the sleeping beauty or she will not want to go to bed at the appropriate bedtime.

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The Journey

though the mermaids’ song is sweet and enchanting,
we must not follow, our hands must be bound tight
to the ship, and the rope burns round our wrists

and there may come a time when we must visit
the dark underworld to find wisdom
we must cross the river Styx,
but we must not stay

we must blind the fearsome Cyclops
in our path, and face down
the six-headed serpent

like Odysseus,
we’re all just trying to navigate
the long journey home.

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Yes

i’ve heard it said
refusing to forgive
is like swallowing poison
and waiting
for the other person to die

and yet, if we’re honest
forgiving
isn’t something we feel like doing
not really

i mean, i remember
all the ways people have failed me
and when, and i’m ready
to bring it up
at just the right moment

but, well
i don’t think corrie ten boom
felt like forgiving either
after years in a nazi death camp
when she met her captor face-to-face
and he asked
sister, can you forgive me?

but she reached out,
grasped his hand in hers
and said,
yes.

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/bamboo-adventure/3530133273/”>Richard.Asia</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

did you know
your first birthday
marked my one year anniversary
as a superhero?
that’s right, i’m now a mother
and though i’d always wished
for a superpower like flight
shape-shifting
or better yet
the ability to move things with my mind
i’ll take the powers of pregnancy and birth
the ability to wipe away your tears
and hold you for hours
the power to love you
with all i am
was
am yet to be

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survival

lost in the deep dark
of this forest, the children wander
cold, hungry, scared
their cell phones don’t work here
they search their memories
is it the north, or the south
side of trees that moss grows on
they know, from watching man vs. wild
that they should try to find water
but all they hear are the chirps of birds
a black-tailed deer darts across their path
they chase after it, hoping
and then they see the cottage
her cottage, the one
made of candy.

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photo credit: VinothChandar via photopin cc