Black and White

A poem

those copper waves caught

me all off my guard

and threw me the green

to, with white knuckles,

lose my grip on it

no more violet days

I’m fazed by the syrup

of a sweet orange

red cheeks and

things that take a look

at that bronze ocean

will be my comfort

Jaw Couldn't Say

A Poem:

A tragedy.

She was always unsure,

Shaking hands and ears willing to listen

always got her into her own words of trouble

Not the sprint

For the last catch of happiness

sort of trouble,

But the lurking kind.

She could sense it

In her bones

But her jaw couldn’t say

just the thought

of being left behind
Kept her mind captivated
And her heart a tragedy.

Wednesday Word Count 1

My goal is for me to spend at least an hour on my poetry and/or revisit a story I have been wanting to work on for a while but haven't pushed myself to do. I really think this exercise will help me get back into writing.

What am I working on? :

I have been working on some poetry that has been on my mind, and I have been revisiting an old novel I had written originally for my sister but now would like to see how the story will wind up if I continue and try to finish it. I've posted a few poems, which are just some thoughts I had jotted down about an idea I had or a feeling I had felt at one time or another.

How do I feel about the process? :

When I first joined this class, I was so nervous because my classmates seemed to be so passionate about creative writing, while I had kept it as a small hobby rarely shown to anyone. I think it's really helpful to have a blog like this, because now I feel a little more obligated to sit down and just write something- anything really- out on paper at least once a day. Before this I wouldn't even consider it because I've been so busy lately, but I think creative writing, whether poetry or fictional stories, is important for any type of writing and is mandatory to keep creative thinking thriving.

What am I reading now? :

Currently: Nothing, besides the poetry novel written by Rupi Kaur called Milk and Honey. . . However, I have been pulling down some of my favorite books I read when I was younger and have been considering rereading one of my favorites called Because of Winn-Dixie. I just love the way Kate DiCamillo writes her novel; she has such an authentic voice and my goal is to establish a confidence in writing so that I will be able to find my own personal voice in my work.

Sleepless

A Poem

It is sleepless nights

that drove her

To be a dreamer

during the day

Unlevel

A Poem

Cut your poetic teeth with a flame

Unlevel that plateaued head of yours

You are too soft, too slight, too tame

Open up the impetuous doors

One time you had possessed a fire

Burned away the whites in your eyes

Now you smother the smoke with barbed wire

And keep the yellow spark fossilized

City of Gold

A Poem

Their hearts pump blood into this city of gold

Street lamps light my eyes with delight

Hold your tongue if you have the map

Let me see where the water hits the paved brick

Red, red tongue and cheek and hands

Red from the cold biting into the cracks on your skin

Closed eyes; it’s red

But their feet move the pavement

Their eyes give it sight

Their bodies, like water

They make this city of red

A city of gold