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How could you allow

Yourself to become

Such a caricature

 

Of a human being –

Being nasty and mean

And letting your

 

Pointed face lead?

Under your tall, thin

Frame, flowers die.

 

But once removed –

The sun can shine

And new buds  –

 

Seeds planted

 

Before your shadow

Came – will push up

Through the loam

 

And years of compost,

Healthy, revived

In spring – to stretch

 

Green, vibrant, joyful.

Blonde Bitch, your

Reign of terror

 

Over this garden

Is over. You’re

The invasive species

 

Sprayed with Round-up.

Eradication makes room

for what is meant to be.

 

This is Poem #15 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I decided for one year to wake mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee on each day that I didn’t teach. I was working part-time then, so in the end I wrote 241 poems.  These are second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

I appreciate your feedback as these poems are not “finished” yet, and I intend to go back into many of them in the future.

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

 

 

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Do not drop it

In a gang shower

They joke – but hope

 

Will help you wake

at 4am and actually

Want to get out of bed.

 

And will shrink

The amygdala

And let creation

 

And planning grow.

Flourish again.

Hope destroys

 

The Plague of Pessimism

She worked so hard

To spread around –

 

And infect each of us.

Hope the antidote;

Relearn to stand

 

At the front of a classroom,

Write on the chalkboard,

And teach in peace.

 

This is Poem #10 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. These are second drafts of  pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state. Feel free to give useful critique.

 

Some of these  poems are quite  “cringe-worthy” but I’m publishing them here anyway. Let it suffice to say, there had been some very bad things happening for a lot of us at work, but we were on the cusp of action and change. This poem and others upcoming reflect this time of uncertainty.

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