Maybe this will happen. Maybe it won’t. All I can do is try. My friend @Schmutzie is going for a poem a day and hashtagging it #365poems. She’s invited others to play and of course, I forgot I don’t have time to breathe let alone play with more words so I said yes. Then I showed up late. Figures. Go read some Schmoetry. I’ll be here to discuss The Awesome when you return.
Also? Some of these poems are recycled and edited, but I’m at least getting them into one place. Also? I have no idea how to add blog pages with posts so I’m improvising and making this reverse chronological order myself.
Day 4/365: Walk a Mile
Sometimes I think it would have been
to have a drinking problem
than feel the need to
because everyone takes pity on the fat girl
with the doughnuts who lies
when she orders a dozen.
Everyone knows she isn’t going to share.
Everyone pretends to think she is.
Eat less. Exercise more. You’ll be fine if you just
Then I remember wearing my dad’s flips flops at home
because we had the same size feet.
Day 3:365: On Choosing Water
The difference between blood and water
lies not in the consistency, but in the
glorious truth that water comes with
Blood binds me, ties me to
But it binds me, nonetheless.
Blood comes with baggage, with history,
with future, and with family arguments,
most of which are held in my head.
Blood comes with love and with pain and with
and strangers who once were more
until they decided that sometimes
blood just isn’t thick enough.
Blood comes with a heavy responsibility
to remain loyal to what was in order
to maintain appearances because
it’s just easier to lie to ourselves
with strained smiles for our public
and save the bitching for when
the appropriate backs
Blood comes with a silence so loud
that we must laugh louder
to drown out the sound of
words left unspoken.
So I choose water when blood remains
the only tie.
Because sometimes, blood just isn’t
Day 2:365: Zombie
Voices raised fingers pointed
thoughts racing guilt swelling
words thrown overhead
salt in wounds
pepper in soul
let them yell
get on knees
lift the lid
stand up wash hands
glance at reflection
lock up self
go through motions
Day 1/365: I See Me
Big brown eyes.
Tweezers? Yes, please.
Eyebrows gettin’ crazy.
Hour glass curves
What matters is
How she sees
Celebrate the kinky curls
The crooked smile
Love the comfort
Make way for me (and my hips)
Doesn’t matter what I see.
What does is how she sees