my near-erasure

The pencil, always so poised,

so sharp, so in fashion,

came, one day, to feel its own lead.

The spine within became buckled,

twisted, fantasising

about its own death.

The point became lost,

worn down to a stub, where

nothing, but nothing, was left

but the scratchings of a soul

looking to transcend bereft.

A poem for day 21 of NaPoWriMo 2015: the erasure 

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not today

I’ll sit with what I’ve got

rather than ruin what I’m not.

 

Techie stuff will play my brain

to the point I can’t or won’t.

Goodbye and still here

Dementia took my mother:

it was goodbye but still here.

A decade of sobbing

could never bring her mind back.

Ten long years it took her

to let go of reasons to live.

Cancer took my father:

it was goodbye and nothing left.

Ten short months of wailing

couldn’t rid him of his assailant.

It ate him up, cell by strand,

and we watched him disappear.

Yet though I’ve said goodbye

Inside, they’re still here.

three marshmallow chicks

inktuition marshmallow chicks

The exuberance of Easter has faded in a week.

Their marshmallow tummies are showing signs of tweak.

The middle chick is cute, and finely still pristine.

The other two distorted, their messy beaks terrine.

The leaning does confuse me: who is zooming whom?

Who believed, and who doubted, the rising from the tomb?

This is my post for Day 27 of NaPoWriMo

a poem for determination

My car is pathetic, purple and slow

yet my accelerating thrust

can be devastatingly annoying

to the fast cars I leave for dust.

My athletic girl is diddy and slight:

her running gear shows her tiny waist.

Yet, with her spikes, her ferocious grit

leaves the rest to give her chase.

My spirit was crushed and left for nought

after I dealt with one death too many.

Yet I still live my heart and express my soul,

because the blessings I count are plenty.