not-so-splendid isolation

what writer doesn’t crave time alone,

to write, float, feel free to create

in a world of imagined forms

 

yet ‘on your own’ brings up all kinds of stuff:

the thought, the feel, the sense of nothing,

the loneliness of being alone

 

I thought I’d welcome the time on page

that can stretch so far and deep –

yet now it’s self-pressure to perform

 

in my restricted bowl, with views of nought,

I have to reframe the reminder ticks

as a chance to live, to write, and transform

my mermaid soul

my mermaid soul fears the sea,

the depths from which she came,

but the time is now to tumble turn,

to dive, to lose, to gain

If I were enough…

If I were enough,

I would devour my here-and-now

and not hunger for some perfect future.

 

If I were enough,

I wouldn’t wish for someone’s fish

or scoff at what’s on my plate.

 

If I were enough,

I would ask for a sliceable loaf,

not nibble at leftover crumbs.

 

If I were enough,

I wouldn’t feast outside

to try to fill my empty insides.

 

I would nourish my starving soul

and my heart would be totally full…

 

If I were only enough.

 

 

NaPoWriMo Day 26: Write a poem that uses repetition

a poem for uplifting things

 

Just when I’m about to give up on a creative life,

things from nature remind me of who I am and what I’m here to do…

 

The pale, pert optimism of spring daffodils

that always come up, no matter what, each spring.

 

The rustle of breeze against branch, a shiver of nature

that brings goosebumps when I’m aligned with my truth.

 

And a sudden, surprising deer, stopping in its path to pause and stare:

An emblem of creative spirit come to visit.

 

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 9: write a list of things

to my younger self I gift..

To my younger self I gift

a sense of knowing I have a right to exist,

imperfect and scared as I am

it’s alright to be me.

 

To my younger self I gift

a trust that life gives as well as takes,

that the blows and hurts won’t destroy me,

but will make me who I am.

 

To my younger self I gift

a self-belief that’s humble as it’s confident,

that the words I eventually write

will soothe me and touch others.

 

To my younger self I gift

a pen that scribes my truth.

 

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 7: write a poem of gifts and joy.