Day 6 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “A Deafening Silence”.
Poem of the Day: My New Calm
Poem of the Day: Crushing Silence
Day 6 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “A Deafening Silence”
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Poetry: My Happy Place
I wrote this poem in 2006 when I was in the midst of my quarter life crisis.
There was once a place
It was my happy place
But it forever disappeared
When puberty appeared
Now I live somewhere else
Where almost everything fails
Where there are no more giggles
And everyone is fickle
Where being sad
Is the fad
And no one cares
About anyone else
What I would give
To get away from this
And go back to
Where no one is rude
And everyone smiles
And no one is a liar
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Poetry: The Full Moon
I wrote this poem in 2006 in college. I’ve always been kind of introspective when it comes to the possibilities of life.
The full moon strikes full of unseen possibilities
Possibilities that dwindle as life goes
Through the process of aging or does it?
Perhaps we are the ones who put limits
To our potential to be anything or do anything
Perhaps it really is true that we are the writers of our own destiny
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Poem of the Day: Failure
Doing a 31 day prompt challenge. The prompt was “Where Flowers Bloom 💐
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Poem of the day: Abandoned Wishes
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Poetry: Did I Ask For Your Advice?
I wrote this poem is creative writing class in 2006. It’s some kind of form poetry but can’t remember what it is.
Did I ask for your advice?
Father and mother
You are not that wise
So I told a few lies
I didn’t mean to hurt her
Did I ask for your advice?
I had to break mine and her ties
Any words, please don’t offer
You are not that wise
I’m a man of twenty-five
Don’t treat me like a youngster
Did I ask for your advice?
Please don’t give me those eyes
And pretend to be higher
You are not that wise
Stop it with your sighs,
My dear mother and father
Did I ask for your advice?
You are not that wise!
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Poetry: Despicable
I wrote this poem in 2006 for my creative writing class. Men in general inspired this poem. Lol.
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
It is that which makes me gawk
The realization of your words so thin
Give my heart a monumental sting
I should’ve put on my idiot proof smock
You should’ve stayed silent as a rock
Instead of whispering nothings to me on the dock
That’s when I should’ve stopped listening
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
Your mouth should’ve been padded with a lock
Then you wouldn’t have taken me on a walk
To your park full of crock
I got on your moronic swing
I shouldn’t have answered your knock
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
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Poetry: She Flew
I wrote this poem in 2006 when my mother-in-law passed away. She was an incredibly kind and lovely person.
She flew one afternoon without warning
leaving us in a state of grief and mourning
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
And now everyone left behind
Has rivers running from their eyes
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
Regrets and remorse
Has become our two worlds
Why did she have to fly ?
Was it really her time?
No fancy words could ever express
How it feels to lose your best
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
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Poetry: Movements
I wrote this poem in college in 2006.
Literary movements, artistic movements, historical movements
Does it matter for everything to be categorized
the way it is? Really?
When what is of greatest importance
are the movements that stirs inside that warrants us
to create change or art
it’s the movement of emotions,
it’s the movement of our hearts,
the movement of our conscious
to express poetry, prose, or art
to inspire or heal others
with our original creations
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Poetry: Trapped
I wrote this poem in late 2005 when I was going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids.
Trapped in a maze
Not knowing where to go
Gotta get out of this place
Before becoming conformity’s whore
A maze with traps
Like kids and responsibilities
It’s all getting too suffocating
And I can’t breathe
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Poetry: Older and Wiser
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Poetry: They Call Me Borderline
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Poetry: Numbness
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Poetry: A Poetic Tale
I wrote this narrative poem in 2005 in my creative writing class.
I will tell you my loving tale
About the day I saw
The most incredibly hot male
Standing in the raw
Naked, he was as a newborn
Why and how I did ask
He asked me not to be a thorn
To enjoy as he basked
And I did enjoy this great view
But still I did ask
What is this visit due to?
And will it be the last?
All he did was show me his teeth
And replied “no its not”
A lot of me you’ll bequeathed
It’s you I’ve always sought
And this was the ending of my tale
About the day I learned
From that translucent and wise male
Love can pleasantly burn
Life on the BPD 