Tag Archives: rain

Poems from the Week (7/14)

It rained so hard today I wanted to cuddle with strangers.
The sky turned to winter morning’s green.
I hunkered my shoulders.
I wanted someone to notice I wasn’t ok,
And hold me while I curled up in a ball
From the big scary noise.
Desperation bred lovability today.

I woke thinking life had nothing but horrible thoughts for me.
Then I got something done,
Not everything, mind you,
But something.
And I only thought, “I have to get out of here” when I stopped to think.
That must be why busy people never stop to think.
All their little day saddnesses would play catch-up.

Someone’s beautiful place of memory
Got destroyed today.
Those poor red shutters on the old brick house,
And all the overgrown fence posts,
They’ll never be like you remembered them.
You can’t go back to double check yourself.
Did I really feel like that,
When I saw the sights I’d seen a thousand times before
With different, healthy eyes.
I’m so sorry little memories.
I should have written you down to keep you safe.
I should have sketched you in color,
I should have photographed with sound.

I do not want to talk to my old teachers.
I will be reminded of all the things I promised myself to be,
The last time I came across their desks.
Let me stay unjogged, more likely forgotten,
So that I can slip by,
Accountable only to myself today,
Instead of the, look where I’ll be, girl with shorter hair.

Pain pills chill on my desk leftover from surgery.
I don’t take them.
I have to say I can overcome some sort of addiction.
I’ve left them on the desk because they fit in.
Like I’ve left that bird turned just sideways.
I have to be able to do something right.

I want to be noticed, but I can’t say I want to be noticed.
So I have to pretend my below grade flying is destined on purpose.
I could be famous.
If I wanted to be.

It’s true,
You find love together in the moments,
Then the waiting for the next one.
Maybe this next one will be better,
Or maybe he’s forgotten.

I met your father for the first time,
He knew all about me,
Oh god, I’m a topic of conversation around your damn meatloaf.
I thought we thought of each other as friends.
Dammit, why didn’t you tell me, you know I’m blind about things like that.
I never saw you again after you left for school.
You an all curl hair.

My dyslexia kicks in.
I’ll tell you what happens.
I’ll be stressed, I have to say this quickly, and it has to be accurate.
I know exactly the word I want to say,
I try to say the word, but I can tell it’s coming out wrong,
And I can’t fix it.
I know it’s the other thing I want to say, the opposite,
But I can’t figure out how to say it,
And there’s no time,
So I go with what my mouth was trying to say,
And I can’t figure out what I said, or meant to say, except I’m mad at myself.
It happens with words.
It happens when I’m writing down a phone number and can’t figure out if I’m writing down a 6 or a 9, and I know something’s off but I can’t see it. My b and ds looks like butterflies, with bumps on both sides.
It happens when I’m thinking too. I’ll think wrong, but I know what I mean, so that one’s not so bad. When I’m reading the letters will flip flop, the letters and the words, and the lines, sometimes it’ll sound funny, and I can laugh to myself. It gets bad when I’m tired too.

I’ll never be beautiful.
I don’t mind.
It means I don’t have to put on makeup.
And no one lies to me.
They know they can’t tell me I’m the prettiest.
I can be fine with me, and my perfectly normal features.
I’ll draw you a picture of me one day here soon.


10 Poems in 20 Minutes (Day Sixty-Six)

Friday, a lovely day to write some poetry, except the sky keeps yelling at me, rumble grumble.

I Wrote 10 Poems in 20 Minutes
Day 66

Poem 1:
The sun hides.
He must be embarrassed.
He hasn’t been able to stop the rain.
The cold rain.
I’d hide too,
If I were you,
And everyone else was getting rained on.

Poem 2:
Mom left to go do what church people do
But I couldn’t leave Grandma in the pew alone
She came down here to be near Mom for the losing of her mind
So I sat next to the woman
Dignified, scared for not knowing where she was
I couldn’t be the one to leave her alone with the yellow
Sanctuary, we sat quietly, talked politely
While she tried to remember which sister I was.
But, it took her longer to lose her, self
A great observer of people, cutting, knowing, quick
She would be the only one to ask,
“How are you?” and mean it when I came home from school.
And I understood her.
So I sat with her while she tried to remember
In the yellow wooden pews,
Everyone else had other things to do.

Poem 3:
An old person gave me some wisdom
One of those
You’re only great if, speeches
I didn’t understand it then
Shirked it off.
But now I do, after I lived through
And oh how it rings true
After it’s usefulness.
I’ll pass this one on with all my wisdomness

Poem 4:
I’m made of open fields.
If you can’t love the space,
You won’t ever love this.
I’m formed from quiet moments with wind and birds and trees.
If you won’t see beauty there,
You won’t ever love this.
I’m from books stacked in piles, dusty, loved, and cherished.
If you don’t see that,
You can never love this.
And I’m made from trusting what I think before anything else,
Because that’s what’s gotten me though.
If you won’t understand,
You will never love me.

Poem 5:
I thought the Post Office man gave me some kindness
But the next time I shipped something
He said the same thing he’d said before.
I was just the same, one of the line.
He became a little less funny.

Poem 6:
He’s getting old enough
So I start remembering my age
And thoughts
When my number was his.
Relatable only to me.

Poem 7:
You want the best for those you love.
Glory and honor and money.
See them do well, to you know,
Maybe do well by proxy.
But she married below her, in a way,
And you’re sad for the potential love
She could have given to something more.
I’ll hold that possible love with mine.
And we’ll rename it hope, so it won’t spoil.

Poem 8:
I baked the cookies for me
I wanted cookies.
I made cookies.
They exist because I wanted them.
Just for me, they were made.
I worked only for me.

Poem 9:
Old guy in the diner sat across and diagonal
From us.
I watched him,
Throwing all these stories over him,
An air marshal off duty, who really loves fries,
And a man who just lost his wife and orders her favorite,
A lonely passerby who’s come to watch the young couples.
Then I left him to his privacy, won’t watch while he eats.
Alone is hard enough.

Poem 10:
She said, I can’t read anything on your face
After she told me that all my expressions were mean
I shifted so she couldn’t read anything
Got chastised for that too.