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. 

Labels

Do not become the labels,

that others have placed on you.

Do not carry a burden of shame,

that is not yours to carry.

From the past you have learned,

in the present you live,

toward the future you look.

Do not use the broken jagged pieces,

of your heart,

to cut and destroy,

rather put them together,

with all that is part of you,

to create,

a beautiful mosaic,

of your life. 

Spider Web

Spider Web

Beautiful, sticky,

silken strands,

woven together.

It shimmers in the sunlight,

a place of refuge,

a place of death.

Thoughts and writing.

My other blog is not working again, I've missed a few days of the a to z blogging challenge. I won't be finishing that this year. I also found myself missing a few days of writing a poem a day for napowrimo.

But I will not give up on poetry or myself completely. Today is Monday the new weekly prompt from poets on the page is available, I have an idea for it that I will be working on over the next couple days. That will be on a different post for this post I am sharing some brief poems or thoughts that I jotted down in my notebook

Pieces

She held the pieces,

of a torn up photograph,

in her trembling hands.

She had ferociously ripped it apart,

to rip the memories from her mind.

What was once beautiful and whole,

was now shattered and ugly.

She tossed the remnants of the picture,

into the wind.

Away they flew, further and higher,

a part of her went with them,

clinging to a past,

that could not be repaired.

Love and Pity

I want love,

love is strong,

love comes from a strong heart.

I do not want pity,

pity is weak,

pity comes from a weak heart.

I want to be a person with a strong heart,

filled with love.

I do not want to be a person with a weak heart,

filled with pity.

I want to share love, not pity.

Look, Listen

Look and listen,

to the world around you.

It desires to teach you.

Interact with all creation.

It yearns to be together,

with you.

Reach out, touch and mend,

hearts and souls not your own.

They are crying out,

to be healed

and in return will heal,

that which is broken in you.

China doll

The soul of a woman,

trapped in the body of a china doll.

Beautiful and delicate,

with eyes that are empty,

painted lips turned up,

in a permanent smile.

She remains silent,

no thoughts of her own

only able to be moved,

by those who play with her.

Traveling

This weeks poetry prompt from poets on the

 page.http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.com/

What would I do with extra time?

If I had the extra time and of course money I would travel and learn and observe and grow and just have lots and lots of fun and eat delicious and interesting new foods. 

This poem shares that and is my attempt at a sedoka style poem.

Traveling alone,

taking in the sights and sounds

watching people walking by.

Talk to a stranger.

learn from them, try new foods,

return a new better me.

Cross roads

I'm starting a new poetry blog mainly because the site my other poetry blog is on is not working and I'm impatient.

The following poem is for this weeks challange for poets on the page.

As for this blog for now don't expect a whole lot on it actually for today at least there is only the one poem.

Here's hoping there are many more in the future.

The poem I choose to read and was inspired by was Choices by Nikki Giovanni.

"Mistakes are a fact of life it's the response to the error that counts."~ Nikki Giovanni



http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.com/http://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/23161/choices



I stand,

At a crossroads of my life.

I contemplate,

what I am,

what I was,

the person I have the potential,

to become.

I feel disquiet.

Perhaps, I think,

I have settled for less then I am meant to be?

I feel inquiring and self loathing,

Have I held dreams in my loving hands,

only to let them drop along the road side,

and crush them underfoot, into a bloody pulp?

I feel hopeful.

Perhaps,

in me,

rests,

A quiet inner strength.

I will choose a road.

I will take a first step forward,

to a future unknown.

I feel uncertain.

I do not know if each step I take,

each choice I make,

is the path I am meant to walk.

But in this I feel confident.

No matter what,

I can,

accept.

I can,

believe.

I can,

be certain.

I have,

the power,

I have,

the will,

to create,

inner happiness,

with every step I take.