Missed (18/30)





The hospital called;

car wheels couldn’t spin fast enough

to clutch your last words.






© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Flatline


#Randomness (17/30)

The prompt for day seventeen over at NaPoWriMo was to take elements from your social media life and make a poem out of them…I chose to take some of my old facebook status updates and add hashtags to them…


The time will come when you let go of all fear, doubt and uncertainty concerning your life's true passion; it will either be the most liberating day of your existence or you'll be too dead to give a shyt
#followyourpassion


Ink is my life's blood; I bleed on pages nightly. In the daytime, I become anemic.
#vampirepoet

I am a stranger in a strange land searching for a normalcy that doesn't exist; 3am chronicles my exploits and holds all my secrets.
#insomniaswhore

It sometimes aches remembering the way her body wrapped around mine; mostly at 4am when the ghost of us haunts cold bed sheets…
#sleepingalone


Is there a rest home for unwritten words and thoughts that didn't have the courage to become poems? If such a place exist, I need to make a sojourn to it and reminisce with the lines and stanzas that almost made it
#visitingunfinishedpoems

When the greatness in you makes its debut, it will shock everyone...even yourself
#surprisepotential

We crawled into each others lives and learned how to walk together under the sun; unfortunately you couldn't help me fly...I had to learn how after you pushed me off a cliff
#invisiblewings

We danced on the edge of frigidness searching for warmth that never came; permanent icicles daydreaming about an invisible summer.
#imaginarysky

The one thing about life that is certain...nobody makes it outta here alive
#iftheresahellbelow




© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Icons

Terzanelle: The Burn (16/30)

The prompt for day sixteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a terzanelle, which is a combination of a villanelle and terza rima. Form poetry...oh what fun!



Her kiss burned down my bones,
setting fire to lips and skin,
ashes turning into a love jones.

Her glance, a piercing sin;
eyes the color of sun and coal,
setting fire to lips and skin.

My spirit she has stole,
becoming my secret salvation;
eyes the color of sun and coal.

Between her legs lies damnation;
perdition has the sweetest taste,
becoming my secret salvation.

Limbs freeze; time becomes chaste,
trapped in her scorching flame;   
perdition has the sweetest taste.

My curiosity is to blame,
her kiss burned down my bones,
trapped in her scorching flame,   
ashes turning into a love jones.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Dear Poem (15/30)

The prompt for day fifteen over at NaPoWriMo (woohoo the halfway point!) was to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self...



You steal sleep

and hijack thoughts;

always the center of attention,

you're a mistress,

a mystery,

misery.

You impregnate blank pages,

sometimes abandoning lines in their infancy;

you are prayers reincarnated as ink,

moonlight searching for a home,

words seeking immortality,

deep sighs splattered 

upon a broken canvas.

I try escaping you

but you hunt me down

like a jilted lover

not ready to end the romance;

I secretly enjoy

the chase.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Poetry

Discussion About Polygamy (14/30)

The prompt for day fourteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that takes the form of a dialogue...




Ayo baby in

Afrika men are allowed

to have more than one

wife, would you allow me

to bring another

woman into our life?



She said...

go find Umfufu

if you want mister,

but if you bring another

woman into this house

I will be pulling the trigger;



you must have fell

and bumped your head,

the only way you'll have

another wife in this life

is when my ass is good and dead.



But think of all those

righteous women

without a good man?

Wouldn’t having

a sister wife be grand?

You know polygamy

is in Allah's plans…



…see this is what happens

when you stay up late

watching Shaka Zulu;

alright Mr. I Want Another Wife

No Maybe TWO

let me go find another

man to bring into this

house, then we'll see if you like

having to share a spouse...



Aiiiiiiiight cut that s@#t out

because it ain't funny...



Oh but me sharing you

is in Allah's plans???!!



You need to shut the hell up

A.S.A.P. before your head

starts to share the bottom

of this frying pan.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Ice Queen (13/30)



Her 
eyes were 
the color of ice 
and sapphire, telling 
the story of a thousand 
lonely blizzards.

Her
crown made 
of crystal and 
starlight reflected
a sacred truth
few could ever 
fathom;


throne 
devoid
of warmth is indeed
a cold place 
to be.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Ice Queen

Pulling Teeth (12/30)


Because of years
of mistaking candy for
one of the four food groups,
I have teeth that need to be
pulled.

I'm reluctant to see
a dentist because I've
become accustomed to
the pain;

sharp stabbing lighting
that strikes at any given
moment, electrifying
nerve endings.

Reading about dental
horror stories from the
times when there were
no dentist is how I try
and motivate myself to seek
medical attention,

they don't work;

the pain passes
like a storm in the
summer. 



© 2015 abruvanamedsly





Bullets & Bulldozers (11/30)



I
was
sitting
in a trendy
restaurant trying
to enjoy the company,
food and ambiance of a
Saturday night, but the
sterilized view of the street
from where I was dining gave
me an uneasy feeling;

all
I could see
were the ghost
of former residents,
family owned businesses
and taped off crime scenes.

The
music,
voices and clanging
of dinnerware drowned out
by the memories of bullets and
bulldozers.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Restaurant

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