Self portrait.

The poetry prompt for this week from poets on the page.

http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.com/

Choose a self portrait and write a poem about it.

This is a self portrait of Eileen Agar, I choose this portrait because it stood out to me. I don't know anything about this artist, I choose not to look anything up about her or this painting because I wanted the poem to be my own thoughts and feelings about the portrait. 

I will sit here, quiet, reserved

keeping still all my words.

For if I showed my true emotions,

I would cause a commotion.

You think I'm stuck up, you think I'm shy,

But inside I laugh, inside I cry.

I want to chit chat as soul mates,

I want to dance, til night is late. 

You think me boring and blase',

that there is nothing of interest for me to say,

you think what you get ,is what you see,

but you don't the rebel spirit that lurks inside of me.

I am tired of being good,

and doing what a lady should.

I want to give in to my desires,

to burn you with my inner fire.

bed of nails

I made a bed of nails,

to wound the lovers I embraced.

 But always, it was my flesh torn,

it was my blood that fell,

It was only I that felt pain,

they smiled and sighed,

with delight,

protected by the softness of my flesh.

Fairy tale

When the fairy tale ends,

you will find yourself, 

riding off into the sunset,

alone.

You will realize,

there never was a fairy tale,

there never was,

a once apoun a time,

happily ever after did not exist,

it will become clear,

it was your own self 

and not a shining knight on noble steed,

that rescued you.

Yes it was you,

you were the princess,

your were the hero,

you were the dragon,

making choices,

living life, 

creating the fairy tale,

in your mind. 

Do you remember the child that danced in the rain,

that played in the mud, 

and ran barefoot in the grass?

She still lives in you,

find her,

dance with her.

Do you remember the child that laughed,

at silly puns and knock knock jokes,

that laughed until she snorted

and did not worry about looking like a fool?

She still lives in you,

find her,

laugh with her.

Do you remember the child that tried,

to ride a bike, do a cart wheel, roller skate,

for the first time,

who fell and got back up,

brushing dirt from skinned knees 

and kept trying again and again?

She still lives in you,

find her,

be fearless like her.

Do you remember the child 

that paraded in brightly colored clothes,

with contrasting patterns,

bubble gum pink lip gloss

and high heeled shoes too big for her feet?

She still lives in you,

find her,

be a diva like her.

My day,

This weeks poetry prompt from poets on the page.
writing a poem that is your to do list of quirks.
for extra challenge throw in words that are onomatopeia.


http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.com/

Morning,

I gulp and slurp down a cup or two or three,

of  hot black coffee,

consider having chocolate for breakfast,

instead, 

the crack and sizzle of fried eggs,

with whole wheat toast and coffee.

After breakfast, eat chocolate,

smack my lips, mmmm, good,

wash chocolate down with iced coffee.

Check email, check Facebook,

put a load of laundry in the wash.

contemplate washing dishes 

and folding laundry.

Make a pasta salad, with veggies for dinner.

Check email and Facebook again, 

get distracted by,

online quizzes 

and videos of babies and baby animals 

and babies with baby animals

sigh, yawn,

It's afternoon,

The question is,

coffee or nap,

I choose coffee.

After coffee,

I go online,

Googling is exhausting,

I take a nap.

After nap,

I kick around, the idea 

of washing dishes 

and folding laundry,

decide instead to call a friend

and talk,

about Facebook, 

online quizzes, videos

and all the interesting and useless information,

I have learned online.

Almost dinner time, 

start dishes,

decide folding laundry can wait until another day,

an idea pops in my head,

a poem, a craft an art project that can not wait,

a question that must be Googled. 

Dishes will wait.

Dinner time, 

consider washing just enough dishes for dinner.

Look at salad, 

decide I'm not in the mood for salad,

make a fast food run for burgers and fries,

pick up paper plates, plastic cups and plastic utensils.

Drink a cup of coffee.

After dinner, 

decide dishes can wait until tomorrow.

check Facebook and email,

watch my daughter play Minecraft,

read a Minecraft book to my daughter. 

Talk about Minecraft with my daughter.

Bed time for kids, 

time to relax, 

Movie or no movie?

No movie,

I just don't want to commit. 

Two to three hours is just too much.

Start a new drama on Netflix. 

Five minutes after starting show,

pick up magazine,

start reading from back to front,

put down magazine, pause show, 

get chocolate from secret stash,

eat chocolate, 

deliberate drinking coffee,

switch to tea.

Six episodes later, 

glance at time,

it's bedtime,

remember the laundry in washer

put laundry in dryer,

climb in bed, 

check email, 

check Facebook. 

swear I will watch, just one,

short two minute video.

two hours later,

good night,

time to sleep. 

yawn, zzzzzzzzz. 

burning coals

Blindfolded,

guided to your destiny,

across a path of burning coals,

sharp pain, burning flesh,

a dulling of the senses.

your movements,

are quick and awkward,

you pause and scream,

you'r alive, 

in this moment of horror,

a mirror is set before you,

by accusers that surround you.

your soul is black and rancid,

your mind shuts down,

the music fades,

the lights dim,

and the pain,

the pain,

slowly drifts away.

Tender

I dream of tender kisses.

I dream of tender love.

I dream of  a tender touch.

But dreams are fragile mist,

that collapse and dissolve.