April is National Poetry Month

That's right-- a month of poetry! You can celebrate by reading, listening to, or writing poetry daily-- though it's always fun to try all three!

I'm taking the daily writing challenge, and will be posting them-- just remember, like NaNoWriMo, 'NaPoWriMo' is about getting ideas down and drafts started, not about creating something truly publishable daily. I'm personally not using prompts, though I might do so occasionally as the month progresses-- there are tons of 30/30 prompt lists out there! 

Here's the so-fars:

(1) I forget that I love you

I never had to say the words
you knew them
I never had to prove it

you knew I meant it

but hearts aren't always reaching up

to touch what they believe they are

and I believed that I was constant

but when I wake up to the fact

that I have let you make me think I need you

I forget that I love you

when you speak prophesies over me

and then leave as they're completing

I forget

when you ask about my passions

and look bored at the response

I forget that I love you

when your silence is a tool

that you keep sharp to keep me guessing

I forget
 

when you cower or cringe

outside my celebrations

I forget that I love you

when you dance inside delusions

and I realize I've joined you

I forget

when you are all need

and no pouring back to me

I forget that I love you

when we were never dating

but it still feels like a break-up

I forget

when you act as if my Aspergers

is a disease in need of curing
(or at least your social quarantine)

I forget that I love you

when you slide your social papercuts

along my freshly healed confidence

I forget

when you start proving all the things

I never wanted to believe about humanity

I forget that I love you

when you hide yourself in silence

so I won't see you throw yourself away

I forget

my love isn't all that righteous

it's impatient and unkind

it has fled in your time of need

it has lost hope

it doesn't know how to persevere,

and it never cast out anyone's fear

and I am sorry

I would never ask you to accept that

from anyone

but in the times when I'm trying to grab at the ends

of my words and my deeds just to keep them together

don't forget that I love you

(2) Finally! I've heard of music!
'Carved' from a newspaper article

Let me just start by saying

my usual realm

just had to be experience

the first since he's been gone

we all can sing--

the reason is not what I was expecting

we're all used to usual

there is a lot of soul

a few give off an old vibe,

while others reflect fantastic pop hits

let the groove be surprise

and receive plenty of airtime

everyone needs to become familiar

give it retro sound

I've been singing in my head nonstop

just everything has a vibe

reminiscent of swaying side to side

and snapping your fingers

experience

trust

just do it

be surprised as always

keep listening

(3) Escape to...

A.

flock to the wild

crowds in search of emptiness

all of us alone

B.

come see the mountains

birds are singing everywhere

squirrels on the road

C.

sunrise up the hill

sky stretching all around me

city is so small

(4) I quit poetry

There is too much memory
in cultivating experience
always living now, and now, and now...
my rose-colored/sky-colored/techni-colored glasses
make me cross-eyed
and I'll leave them by my bedside
to see my dreams in
but the morning is unmetered
and means nothing more than electromatic waves

(5) Apocalypse

Somewhere East of Chicago

in a badly back-lit basement laboratory,

A silver-haired scientist

wearing a long white coat and several significant initials

tells his bespectacled fledgeling assistant,

“Careful with that--”

(6) I quit poetry again today

There is no relief

from the nausea of words

except for silence

 

(7) The Only Thing You Whisper Is 'I Love You'

How sweet it seems to curse the sky

hard fists like flags of no surrender
clawing at infected roots
clearing forests to make way for tanks
and, when pushing buttons doesn't cure the need to level justice,
to use the trees as battering rams
against the doors of those that keep the weak as hostages
Snarling at the darkness that surrounds you
you will prevail--
you scream so to the thunderclouds
begging them to grace your face with bullet-rain
you invite everything which might provide a pressure
against which you can feel the thrill of resistance
It is always loney
It is always fighting against
and never
fighting
for

(8) I tried to quit poetry again today.

There is no relief

for the nausea of words,
not even silence.

(9)The world is too much with us.

The world inside your pocket,
pain flits through your fingertips
in electric agony
images and voices screaming
Nobody cares?!
Nobody cares?
Nobody... cares...?
And lamentations fade into the hum of tragedy
and all emotion is white noise
and the poems grow shorter
the arguments longer
the jokes more pervasive/persistent/perverse
the people sleepier
fitful-sleep-ier
eyelids closing tight against the onslaught
blinders to block out a memory of a time
when it was only
Wednesday
in our city
that hurt us