One Doesn't Stop to Talk with Nightmares - Day 4 of the 2016 PAD Challenge

Off-prompt, but from a line in a Guy Gavriel Kay story, provided by one of our writing group partners, Lori Krell. I think this one is about becoming our worst nightmares. 

Mirror of the Soul by ispheria.

One Doesn't Stop to Talk to Nightmares

Yes, I heard her warning

as I left the bar that night.

I heard her

but I refused to heed

the raving rantings

of a whore

Yes, she warned me of the dangers

of straying from the path

of staying too long

of listening

to the whispers.

I heard her

but I thought her

mad

I thought

her

mad.

She said, One doesn't stop

to talk to nightmares.

I said, What do you know

of dreams?

Her cracked face

sagged:

fractures panes

in ruined casement.

Yes, I wondered what she lost

from lingering too long

from sipping too deeply

from keeping cozy company

with the demons

of her dreams

I wondered, but dismissed her

A mad woman

A transient

A fool

No, I did not see her

for what she is

for what she was:

Not a broken window

but a mirror.

A reflection

of me.

Three - Day 3 of the 2016 Poem A Day Challenge

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Three (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “Three Blind Hippos,” “Three Muskrats,” “Three’s Company,” “Three Movies Is Too Many for The Hobbit, Peter Jackson (just saying),” and so on.

Here is a strange little poem in round. It's a bit rough, but I'll take it for now.

Three

On the road,

on the road

an old crone sang

with a stick

in her hand,

with a crow

on her back

On her back,

on her back

the old crow cawed

with a jewel

in her eye,

with a ring

on her wing

On her wing,

on her wing

there slept a dream

with a wish

in her heart,

with a song

on her lips.

On her lips,

on her lips

there rested a kiss

with a prince

in her bed,

with a crown

on his brow.

On his brow,

on his brow

there weighed a truth

with a price

in its words,

with a curse

on his grave

On his grave,

on his grave

the old crone wept

of a love

and a girl

and a boy

and a bird

And the three

who fled

with the jewel

and a ring,

They sing

no more

No more

they sing.

Actual Things He Said To Me - Day Two of the PAD Challenge

Unless you're actually just an asshole using
honesty as a shield for rude behavior.

The 2016 April PAD Challenge shuffles along to Day 2. Let’s unwrap today’s prompt.

For today’s prompt, write a what he said and/or what she said poem. Maybe he or she said a rumor; maybe he or she gave directions; or maybe he or she said something that made absolutely no sense at all. I don’t know what they said; rather, each poet is tasked with revealing that knowledge.

Here is a poem close to my heart. These are actual things men have said to me - some in person, some via instant message, but all true.

Actual Things He Said to Me

He said, "It's hot that you're a single Mom.

They're like the surest bet.

That's how it is where I come from:

You gotta take what you can get."

He said, "You are smoking hot, but

Petite chicks are all I date.

I would really like it a lot

If you could just shed some weight."

He said, "Why do you need feminism?

Isn't that for ugly girls?

That kind of sexual fascism

is what's ruining the world."

He said, "Your book is too feminine.

You shouldn't quit your job.

Your sense of humor's asinine.

You think you're funny, but you're not." 

He said, "Hey princess, hey baby, hey doll

I'm not like other dudes.

I'm looking for love, I'm looking to fall

So PM me all your nudes."

And then he said, "I don't get it,

how women can be so mad

I just told you what I want.

So how can that be bad?"

He said, "Women claim to want honesty.

But that just doesn't fly.

'Cause when we tell them what we need,

They would rather hear a lie."

But she said, "You misunderstand us.

We are but human beings

Not a princess in a tower

Not some puppet tied with strings."

She said, "I'm not here to perform for you.

I don't need what you have to say.

Someday I'll realize my own goals

And that someday is today."

Fools Rush In - Day One of 2016 Poem-A-Day

Let Poem-A-Day begin!

Every year for the past -- I don't know, decade? -- I have participated in Robert Lee Brewer's Poem-A-Day in April. Some years, I make it all the way to the end. Other years, I fall fabulously short. The point, though, is to write poems, and that I do. 

Here is the link to Brewer's PAD Challenge site, where he posts his daily poetry prompts:
2016 Poem A Day Challenge Join me, if you please and if you dare, in writing one poem each day in April. 

Day One:

For today’s prompt, write a foolish poem. It’s April Fool’s Day, after all. Let’s loosen up today with a poem in which we’re fools, others are fools, or there’s some kind of prank or tomfoolery happening. Fool around with it a while.

Fools Rush In 

Foolish is a mockingbird

Who first dives from her nest

Foolish is the scientist

Who continues to try and test

Foolish is the playground child

Who finally raises her fist

Foolish is caterpillar

Who unwinds from her chrysalis

Foolish are those who push and push

Who refuse to give up their fight

Foolish are they, the believers

Who rally against the night

Foolish are those who continue

To live, to love, to dare.

And though they may be wounded,

they still have love to share.

Count me blissful among them:

This incautious band of fools

For if I let anguish guide me

I never would have you.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Twenty:

Prompt for Day Twenty:

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “My (blank), the (blank),” replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “My Dentist, the Torture Expert,” “My Lunch, the Thing I Got Out of the Vending Machine,” “My Father, the Comedian,” or “My Life, the Punchline.”

I am playing catch-up, so this one of the two poems I wrote on Day Twenty One. It wasn't finished on the day, so I'm posting it for Day Twenty, because I couldn't feel that prompt.

This was inspired by a conversation with a friend with whom I'd stayed up way too late.

I Am Not

I am not your princess

I am not your muse

I was not put upon the earth

to aid and comfort you

I am a human being

I have got my plans

They have nothing to do

with your boring, idle hands

I don't care if you are listening

I'm not worried if you care

I'm a woman, goddammit,

Walk beside me if you dare.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Twenty Seven

Prompt for Day Twenty Seven:

For today’s prompt, write a looking back poem. Of course, some people just glance over their shoulders, and others stop and turn all the way around. Some look back in time and weigh their successes and failures, evaluate things they could do better. Some claim they never look back. Whatever your stance on looking back, capture it in a poem today.

This is for my parents, who have been married for forty years. I'm trying to reflect how their love has grown and changed over time. I hope I hit somewhere close to the mark.

A Year, A Life

our love, in barefoot splendor,

traipsing through thick viny trails

cut off shorts and halter tops

dandelion born on gales

our love in springtime formals,

reveling in orchid blooms

a rich and gauzy fabric

full of softly fragrant plumes

our love, dressed in winter's clothes,

bundled tight against the cold,

a woolly warmth protects us,

never let the chill take hold

now our love is autumn's cloak

gathered across our shoulders

at campfire's side, side by side,

while life's long ember smolders

2015 Poem a Day, Day Twenty Six

Prompt for Day Twenty Six:

For today’s prompt, take a word or two invented by William Shakespeare, make it the title of your poem, and write your poem. Click here for a link to some words coined by Shakespeare, who was baptized on this date in 1564. If the link doesn’t work, here are a few: advertising, bloodstained, critic, dwindle, eyeball, hobnob, luggage, radiance, and zany. He invented more than 1,700!

I went off prompt today because I was toying with the idea of making a puzzle poem yesterday, and this one came alone. The missing letters make a phrase. My brain was very entertained, and I hope yours is, too. (I put the answer in the tags...)

Missing Persons

I knew

when you d_d_'t look back

we were done

Two years of maybes

_wo months of p_omises

Yo_ wouldn't kiss,

not in public

no_ in the s_adow

of outs_ders you woul_

never see again.

Y_u stood in the security li_e

and I watched and wa_ched

and hoped

but

you never once

looked back

and you grew

smaller

and

s_aller

unt_l

there wa_

nothing

left

to _ee

Yesterda_

is the gh_st

of _s.  

2015 Poem A Day, Day Twenty Four

Prompt for Day Twenty Four:

For today’s prompt, write a moment poem. The moment can be a big moment or small moment; it can be a good moment or horrible moment; it can affect thousands or matter to just one person. Some moments happen in crowded rooms; some happen in the most quiet of spaces. Find yours and write a poem.

The road leading to my Aunt's house was, until very recently, quite rural. We used to live across the street from her in what is still my favorite house ever. Surrounded by pastureland on three sides and a kind of reclusive farmer we call the Donkey Man (he has a donkey) on the fourth, we used to see a lot of deer, roadrunners, foxes, and once, a ring-tailed cat.  

In the last two years, in spite of a report from the TNRCC stating that it's a bad idea to build apartments atop a cave formation, developers constructed a massive student housing complex across the road from Aunt Ava's house.  

I always worry about the little animals. It troubles me that they've been forced into smaller and smaller habitats. Sure, there's parkland nearby with lots of green space, but considering the acres and acres of open land they used to roam, we've left them with scraps. My brain tells me humans have to have some place to live. My heart answers with the truth: there are plenty of abandoned buildings we can refurbish closer to town. We can build up instead of out. We can be smarter and kinder at the same time when it comes to protecting the creatures with whom we share this world. 

Hello, soap box. Where did you come from?

Anyway, as I came home from my run last night, I crossed paths with a fox. There's a family of them in the empty field, and they are beautiful. This poem is for them.

Out-fox

A cutout shape:

ears and tail

you whisked

across the path

Wild and cunning,

this mother fox:

black and silver

soft and sharp

Our road,

once your

open field.

Our powerlines,

once your

stream and trees

Still you prowl,

you hunt,

and slink,

bright eyes

and starlight

And you watch me,

keen, calm, alert

You were here before

You are here now

You'll be here

tomorrow,

when we burn

ourselves out.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Twenty Three

Prompt for Day Twenty Three:

For today’s prompt, write a historic poem. It could be a poem about a landmark event, specific battle, an era in time, or whatever you consider a historic happening.

This one's far from finished, but I like the use of toes and foot. I'll revisit this one next year, perhaps.

History

the mice made homes

in the toes of shoes

at the foot of these hills

Poem A Day, Day Twenty-Two

Prompt for Day Twenty-Two:

For today’s prompt, write a nature poem. For many poets, the first thing that may pop to mind includes birds, trees, waterfalls, rivers, and such. But there’s also human nature, nature vs. nurture, and other things natural, including natural selection and being a “natural” at something. Let your nature take it where it will today.  

This one is a seasonal poem, more than a nature poem, though there is some overlap. I chose haiku because they are traditionally written about nature. I usually write punny haiku, but I almost refrained from that this time. Almost.

Spring

With eyes like orchids,

her gaze sweeps across the fields

pink and gold and blue.

Summer

Rough hands and bare feet

where the ocean meets the sand,

he waves his hello

Autumn

Cinnamon sweetness

caramelized on his tongue

hides the scent of death

Winter

Whisper on her lips

A snowflake or a promise:

I am leaving soon.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Twenty-One

Prompt for Day Twenty-One:

For today’s prompt, we’re dealing with our third “Two for Tuesday” prompt(s):
     1. Write a “what you are” poem, or…
     2. Write a “what you are not” poem.

I'm off prompt today, sort of. This is more of a reflection poem. It's been sitting in the unfinished poem folder for a while, but today when I looked at it, I made a few changes and thought, "It's as ready as it will ever be."

Mirror

A fear:

you will write

about the ways

I have scarred you.

And I have,

it pains to admit.

I have pushed

when I should

have comforted.

I have dismissed

when I should

have listened.

And you will write

about the ways

I have failed you.

All my searching

and running,

all my scattered 

hopes

dropped like 

fragments

of broken

mirror

in your lap.

Operation Smoke Free, Day Two

Though I didn't get my poem done for today, pushing me further from my Poem A Day goal, I did write 1,200 words on the novel. My Aunt Ava and I went grocery shopping, effectively keeping her too busy to worry about smoking.

My great aunt, Avonne (I'm her namesake, hence my penname, Celeste Avonne), lives with Aunt Ava. Aunt Avonne is witty, kind, funny, and thoughtful. She has diabetes and is confined to a wheelchair. She tries really hard to be independent, because I think she is afraid of overburdening my Aunt Ava. Even so, Aunt Avonne needs help. Like this morning, when she was getting out of her shower, her useless bathmat slipped in the tub and she fell.

Ava immediately dialed 911. An ambulance came right out, checked Aunt Avonne for injuries and helped her get back into her chair.

The whole time, Ava was so calm and composed, I felt like she totally had the situation completely under control. We went about the rest of our day as if everything as A-Okay, normal street. And it was. When we got back from grocery shopping, Aunt Avonne was peacefully reading her suspense thriller novel and Katrina was doing her online RPG responses.

I cooked supper - positively Paleo peppers. They were delicious. Then it was time for Katrina to begin her classes (she starts them at 9 p.m. - oh, the benefits of home school!)

Even if Aunt Ava doesn't quit smoking in the next two weeks -- I hope she does -- something else good will come of it in the form of a heightened awareness of what my Aunt Ava experiences day to day taking care of Aunt Avonne. Also, Aunt Ava is kind of a badass for the way she handled that situation with such cool grace.

Wish us luck as we enter day two of the Operation Smoke Free. I still don't have a clever title for this endeavor.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Nineteen

Prompt for Day Nineteen:

For today’s prompt, write an authority poem. Maybe you are an authority on something or know someone who is (or who thinks he or she is). Maybe you respect authority, or maybe not so much. Maybe you are on the run from the authorities, in which case I can only say good luck, but this blog probably isn’t the best hiding place–especially with so many folks poeming away.

I am a few days behind on the challenge now. This one is super-rough, and I'm not sure it's an authority poem. 

Open Carry

I have a policy

for the kids

in my care:

I take you

with me

in my heart,

in my mind

every day,

every where.

Driving home

from school,

you are in the

backseat,

you control

the music

and the air

and the volume,

and the depth.

At night

when I cook,

I worry:

Do you have

what's good

for you?

Do you have

enough?

When I try

to sleep,

there you are,

chatting,

talking,

laughing,

crying.

And I worry.

Into the odd

hours,

I worry.

This is my

open carry.

This is my

weapon

against

crime

and poverty

and cruelty

and hate.

This is

what I have

to give:

openness,

acceptance,

and the

promise:

I carry you

in my heart,

and I

remember

who you are.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Fifteen

Prompt for Day Fifteen:

For today’s prompt, pick an adjective, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. If you’re feeling stuck on this one, go back through your poems earlier this month and find adjectives you used–if any. Or crack open a dictionary. Or scan other poems for ideas.

This one turned out a little creepier than expected...

Complicit

sometimes there is a shadow

lurking at the door

sometimes it's a heart

beat-beating

in the space beneath

the floor

sometimes there is a spider

tangled up in her own webs

sometimes there is a murderer

buried deep in his own bed

once in a while,

there is a smiling face

peering out

from the mirror glass

and sometimes,

you are the author

of what has come

to pass.

2015 Poem A Day, Day Thirteen

Going off prompt for this one. It was supposed to be a confession poem, but I had nothing.

Instead, I was playing with haiku for Earth Day's nature poem, and I wrote this one. It's not a nature poem, but I like the idea of Rorschach and kaleidoscopes.

But What About Freud?

A prismatic flash

Turning kaleidoscope's wheel

Rorschach would love this

2015 Poem a Day, Day Twelve

Prompt for Day Twelve:

For today’s prompt, write a damage poem. Since my baby brother is a storm chaser, my mind usually jumps straight to storm damage. However, there’s more than the physical damage created by things like hurricanes, trains, and war planes. There’s also the emotional and psychological damage we inflict, survive, and conceal. The bright side of any damage is that it can be transformed into a poem.

Fire

A child walked

through the charred waste

of a forest after a fire

She felt the heat

still trapped

within the soil,

and she wept for

the blackened roots

of the tindered trees.

Smoke curled

in wending tendrils,

stinging in her throat,

and he cried, “How

can anything

survive

such darkness?”

Yet on the ground

there lay the seeds

sprung forth from

the coils

of their cones

The rain would come

to soothe the soil

and feed the seeds

released

Tender shoots

will grow anew

and from fevered flame,

reborn

All that lay

in devastation

will see the

sun once more.