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!

Impossiblities

Parking lots. Lockers. A million high schools blurred into one.
A twisted hallway, a tiny dark classroom.

Chalkboards containing unfamiliar names, dates, words…
I’m failing to understand the dream,
begin noticing people from reality.

A missing tooth in a red plastic treasure chest.
I must put these ideas and more to rest.

Amusement parks complete with Ferris wheels, and
dizzy rides spring up allowing me a place to hide.

We drive on highways or down gravel roads,
across giant bridges but every time we swerve.

I fly through windshields. I wake, raking air
into breaking lungs.

Impossible details,
imprints of my sleeping life
interpreted in waking life…

It goes on like that until I click
the light pulling on a grimy white string
ending up in various versions of my bedroom
with all the lost antique furniture.

I get so lost. Confused. Then my mind turns to you.
Blank. Smiling in a sleepy state, demons set to rest
until I wake.

Social Networking and Spam

blastedgoat says: I coined a new word and a brand new spam poem, eat it up, consumies! Holy crap, there’s another one!

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