Falling After 50

9 - Falling After 50

Image by Peter Griffin on Public Domain Pictures

Blue skies and sunshine,
Warm October afternoon
Breathe in the beauty
Of an almost perfect day.
Then, without warning,
Face plant on asphalt.
Dominant left hand
Thankfully unbroken, yet deeply bruised.
Stunning, stinging, brilliantly red
Right arm road rash.

X-rays? Check.

Tetanus booster? Check.

Ice and anti-inflammatories? Check.

Falling after fifty
Ain’t no joke.

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I just wasn’t feeling the today’s prompt from the #OctPoWriMo blog. It might have something to do with this actual event that happened to me on Sunday afternoon. I hope this will help people see that there can be poetry in anything.

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8 - Moments of Madness

Image by Kai Stachowiak on Public Domain Pictures

 

In my darkest hours,

Deep in moments of madness,

I want to believe.

I need to believe

That there’s hope for our nation,

But I fear the worst.

I’ve seen their darkness,

Born witness to their hatred,

And I’m terrified.

Their power runs deep…

Their greed, corruption, and fear

Of us who aren’t them.

I stand with you now,

Deep in moments of madness,

Promising to vote.

26 Love Letters

7 - Unsent Letters

Image by Karen Arnold on Public Domain Pictures

 

*** This is a repost of a poem I originally wrote/shared on October 16, 2013.***

Inspired by the prompt on the #OctPoWriMo blog and by the amazing poem “40 Love Letters” performed by Jeanann Verlee

 

 

 

 

Dear Patrick,

Let’s be friends.

Besides your roommate is kind of cute.

Dear B,

It’s a shame we were so young.

You’ll always be the one that got away.

Dear C,

I danced anyway. And I got fat. So there.

Dear D,

Thunderstorms will forever remind me of you.

Dear E,

You are my encyclopedia of useless knowledge.

Thank you for bringing John Irving and Tori Amos

into my life.

Dear F,

It was always fun

when you’d put your arm around me and miss.

Too bad tall doesn’t mean smart.

Dear G,

I wish I’d met you before F.

Dear H,

Who did I think you were?

Dear I,

That stunt at Christmas

destroyed any hope of more for us.

Dear J,

There is a God. You are not him.

Dear K,

Sad puppy dog eyes are cute as hell…

On a sad puppy dog.

Dear L,

Tell your parents

I wear my blue collar background proudly.

Dear M,

If you weren’t so angry and I wasn’t such a mess…

Dear N,

You were my Jesus and I your Mary Magdalene.

I’m sorry I never loved you. I didn’t know how.

Dear O,

I am not a very good character witness.

Dear Patrick,

I’m glad we’re still friends. I need someone to talk to.

Dear Q,

You had a chance. A good chance.

But setting up a threesome and

not informing all parties is just tacky.

Dear R,

That was the strangest first

(last) date I’ve ever been on.

Dear S,

You hurt me. And I liked it.

Dear T,

Sweet man, you are weirder than me.

And that’s saying something.

Dear U,

I am no longer bi-curious.

Dear V,

Next time you use a woman’s computer,

be sure to clear the history before you leave.

Otherwise, she might find your other profile.

Dear W,

Thank you for showing me the way back to me.

Sorry I couldn’t do the same for you.

Dear X,

Why did you have to be so damned handsome?

P.S. Divorced, my ass!

Dear Y,

I’ve been accused of cheating with you.

Wanna make the accusation true?

Dear Patrick,

I’m glad we’re still friends.

You know my faults and yet you’re still here.

The skeletons in my closet don’t bother you.

It may have taken twenty-five years for us

to be prepared for what we’ve found,

but it was worth the wait just to know a love

so pure, so honest, so deep.

I thank God for you every day.

 

Fortress

6 - private-keep-out

Image by Vera Kratochvil on Public Domain Pictures

 

Conquer me?
Ha! I don’t think so!
Others have tried and failed before you.
Their attempts have fortified all my defenses.
Walls up, doors closed, gates locked, keys are safely hidden.
I am not a trophy to be won.
You may as well quit while
You still can.

 

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This poem was inspired by the prompts at the #OctPoWriMo blog.

 

Denied

5 - Denied

Photo of me taken by Jill White

 

All alone, I close my eyes,
Listening to the deafening silence.
I can almost hear the sound of your heartbeat.

Eyes open, I look in the mirror,
Staring at my pale and aging face.
I can almost see your eyes in my own.

Out of habit, I smooth my hair,
Running my fingers through the prematurely white locks.
I can almost feel your gentle touch.

Once again, I check my messages,
Hoping to see your name in my notifications.
I can almost taste your bitterness.

All alone, I close my eyes.
Praying that you feel our connection.
I can almost smell your fear of me.

 

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This poem was inspired by the prompt at the #OctPoWriMo blog and is dedicated to my birth mother.

 

Artists and Other Strange Animals

Monoprinting

Gelli Print by Amy McGrath

 

Welcome to the Creatives Zoo.
Please enjoy our remarkable collection
Of these strange and unusual beings.

4 - typewriter-and-laptop

image by George Hodan on Public Domain Pictures

 

First up are the Writers –
We have realistic non-fiction types,
The imaginative fiction ones,
And the very rare poets.
Allow them to dazzle you with words.

 

 

4 - brushes-and-paint

image by George Hodan on Public Domain Pictures

 

Next are the Painters –
There are the classicists using oils,
Some modernists with their acrylics,
And the wonderfully bizarre mixed media users.
Allow them to mesmerize you with colors.

 

 

4 - trousse-et-crayons-de-couleurs

Image by Richard Revel on Public Domain Pictures

Over here are the Sketchers –
We have them all – the graphite and charcoal users,
There’s a cluster of those preferring colored pencils, pastels, and markers,
And the delightfully unique digital creators.
Allow them to enchant you with images.

 

 

4 - tool-box

Image by Peter Griffin on Public Domain Images

Now we come to the Sculptors –
Here are the potters with their clay,
The carvers with their wood and stone,
And the brave forgers with their fire and metals.
Allow them to astonish you with forms.

 

 

 

4 - Tragedy_and_Comedy_(8094737104)

By Tim Green from Bradford (Tragedy and Comedy) via Wikimedia Commons

 

Around the corner, you’ll find our Actors
There are some who thrive when live on stage,
Those who work in recorded form on film or television,
And the fascinating ones who work across all forms.
Allow them to captivate you with emotions.

 

 

4 - hintergrund-802

Image by Anonymous User on Public Domain Pictures

 

Down this way are the Musicians –
We have the tribal and religious ones,
Both instrumentalists and vocalists,
And the quirky sound engineers who mix it all up.
Allow them to tantalize you with songs.

 

 

4 - Dance-Shoes

Image from Beautiful Shoes website

 

Over there are the Dancers –
Those classically trained in ballet, tap, and jazz,
The culturally trained in ethnic and ballroom styles,
And the marvelously skilled hip-hop and street performers.
Allow them to beguile you with movements.

 

 

4 - Fabric_Swatches

Image by CSIRO via Wikimedia Commons

Finally, we have the Designers –
We have the fashion group who work with fabrics,
The interior group who work with carpets, wall coverings, and furniture,
And the special breeds – the photographers and graphic designers with their cameras, tablets, and laptops.
Allow them to bewitch you with collections.

 

 

We hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of our Creatives Zoo.
You may move freely among the creatures.
Join us anytime. The gates are always open.

 

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This was inspired by the prompt over at the OctPoWriMo blog and my own extremely varied interests, having dabbled in nearly every category mentioned above. What can I say? I’m a Gemini with ADHD…

Ode to My Insecurity

3 - Insecurity

Image by Vera Kratochvil at Public Domain Pictures

 

I bow to you, oh insecurity,
Conceding your hold on me.
I bite my nails to the quick
Worrying that I won’t be enough
Or worse yet, too much.

My heart quickens from
A knock at the door,
A phone call,
Or a calendar reminder,
Each coming from a person
Who I may disappoint.

I settle into your embrace, oh insecurity,
Accepting your omnipresence.
I choose to deny myself
The soothing doses of Xanax
Or worse yet, Klonopin.

 

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This poem was inspired by the prompt on the OctPoWriMo blog.