It’s Never Too Late to Start National Poetry Writing Month! (NaPoWriMo)

April is National Poetry Month and it was a hard decision to forgo NaPoWriMo but I just couldn’t make it work with trying to find a job. Now I’ve had my interview and will be hired once I pass a pre-employment sandwich formula test…

I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun I just had to write some poems… Now, I’m feverish thinking I should just write the full 30! I may add in a few revisions here and there but I have a small start already…

Ageless Plastic People

I never could fit

in the plastic mold.

Thoughts run like a nose

in a circumstance of constant cold.

I unwrinkle the winks and smiles

that once indicated youth.

As the lines and frowns return

I learn to love the process of growing old.

Until, I too am resigned to the back shelf

flaking off next to greening cheese.

Throbbing, bobbing eyeballs popping

masked by the sound of knees cracking,

back breaking, body hurling toward the ground.

More to come in the next few days. Hopefully I can make it to 30!

Capturing Parallels

Pretending nothing happened?
Telling lies for we must not tell the truth?
Every time you accidentally mention my name,
brush me off your shoulder, edge a little closer
on a floral couch…

When I rested my head on your shoulder
on the train I wished you were mine again.
Even if you were disguised behind
a handsome strangers eyes,
the softness of your shirt gave rise
to the silentest of cries.

I could not believe that this dream
was sure to leave. I look for you night
after night until I get your face just right.
It’s comforting, there is no ring.

Sometimes, these strangers speak what you cannot.
Sometimes I think: I think, you like him, I think he likes you.
Thanks, smiling foreign dude!

A butterscotch shot, you’ll feel it in your sleep
with no hint lingering on your waking kiss.

I roll out of bed and try to remember
if I was dreaming of now or September,
under oak and apple trees
while we run from cops, skin our knees.

If this were the last moment of my life,
I would be sad. Accepting that this moment,
aside from all the noise of machines in the distance and
the strange fellow with the grey hooded sweatshirt
that just walked by is perfect:

I am sitting in the shade. I hear the spinning spokes
of a ten speed bike as I want for the clock to strike
the afternoon with four loud booms.

Chimes that string the leaves together
only so they can grow weak and detach…

I am sitting in the shade I hear the spinning spokes
of a ten speed bike as I want for the clock to strike
the afternoon with four loud booms.

Chimes that string the leaves together
only so they can grow weak and detach.

Mind Erases

My mind erases all negatives, film splits me down the middle. I’m capturing a cure, killing inhibition because within these walls on these floors habits seem to die so hard.