Dear Dreamer

Dear Dreamer,

You will become an adult
long before comprehending
what it means to be a child;
don't let this scare you;
it will give you strength
others will envy.

You will live in places
where empty shell casings
litter the ground like 
discarded sunflower seed hulls;
just remember how 
to breathe between
the sound of firing bullets.

You will witness countless
police tape sunsets,
don't let blood shimmering
on the concrete reflect your future.

You will suffer heartache
that never leaves;
learn how to circumnavigate
its evolving.

It's going to be okay to cry
even when no one is watching;
tears will water your resolve.

Don't forget how to lie in
the grass, stretch out your arms
and place your fingers in soil;
for this is how you will feel the
heartbeats of your ancestors.

Look up at the night sky often,
for watching moonlight fold
into an origami sunrise
will help your imagination grow.

Women will try to seduce
your mind, body and spirit;
learn how to kiss fire
while hugging an inferno.

You will tightrope walk
through a world
that wants to see you fall;
make it mad that you have balance.

Most of all have the
courage to fail;
it will remind you success 
is the only option.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly



Poetry Be Like...

Poetry be like...

crumpled paper and broken pencils at 2am

sharp daggers of empty stabbing a wounded soul

stanzas scraping against the roof of memories

the space between imagination and the inevitable

a burning heart whose embers scorch throat and tongue

everything I need to say but won't

the inside of my grandma's steamer trunk

the sound of a growing oak tree

creaks and pops from old vinyl records

erect nipples

hands speaking to a soft belly

stretch marks on curves that eat moonlight

a baby's first grasp at its parent's finger

a death row inmate's last meal

the ghost of lynched bodies

Shaft on 125th street

velvet paintings of cordova love

nag champa incenses

toes licking foreign soil

sunrises on unfamiliar sand

broken book pages

the sky


© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Poetry Alone


SONNET: Love Notes

Their relationship was romantic rage,
his punches love notes to her face;
blood, the ink dripping from the page,
lines she wish she could secretly erase.

Cursive and italics all over her body,
ribs usually highlighted in bold font;
friends and family inquire like literati,
her answers are always nonchalant.

He constantly begs for her forgiveness,
making the notes sting a little less,
explosive scribblings a painful business,
especially on the inside of her chest.

Tears stain jottings current and past,
wondering which note will be his last.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly




What I Am

Yesterday at a writing workshop some fellow poets and myself were given a prompt asking us to write a piece beginning each line with I am...I've done it before but it's still good practice...

I am sleepy

I am steadfast

I am (a)studious

I am a bad speller

I am late nights and early mornings

I am insomnia's whore

I am promiscuous

I am lying

I am concrete and silk

I am rainwater

I am son of djembe and cousin to lighting

I am antiquated stardust

I am a searcher

I am spinning wheels

I am stuck

I am broken trajectory

I am talking mud

I am concealed brilliance

I am a placeholder for bullet fragments

I am a target

I am hated

I am loved

I am envied

I am the future.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Fin Redux (30/30)

The final prompt for NaPoWriMo was to write a poem of farewell...I'm not good at goodbyes, so I kinda turned this poem into an continuation piece...

a month of writing

decays into yesterday;

the lifetime continues.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly



April Rain (29/30)

The prompt for day 29 over at NaPoWriMo was to take the elements of Twenty Little Poetry Projects and attempt to use them all in one piece...this is what I came up with...

hump day tsunami

tap dances on life like eggshells on ants

shaky eyes lick the wet wind

as if squall was kool-aid

North Capitol street becomes

a sad night during the day

which gets me guh;

was it raining because she was crying?

maybe brightness will return tomorrow

we gonna learn today

why curved thunder breaks spirits

muddying warm woolgathering

Junebugs love to be in these moments

building dry bridges

out of trash and resolve

weeping clouds hum

azul es el color del rojo cielo

sunlight attends an all day movie festival

feet pirouette in a flooded ballet

monsoon washes away sins and monkeys.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly



The Call (28/30)

The prompt for day 28 over at NaPoWriMo was to find a news article and write a poem using mostly, if not only words from the article. Since it being National Poetry Month and all, this article from The New York Times seemed to suffice...

poetry month asked

the city about syllables;

strangers provided


© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Aftermath (27/30)

The prompt for day 27 over at NaPoWriMo was to write an ekphrastic poem. This is the image I chose to write to...


alabaster effulgence

blankets everything in sight;

sidewalks and roads become

an elegant tragedy

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Saddening (26/30)

I skipped the NaPoWriMo prompt for day 26 to watch the movie Her...after I finished viewing it, was inspired to write this...

you lie under my skin
taking up the space between
muscle and tomorrow

every breath wrapped
around every word you
use to say

I speak in memories
searching for a new tongue
that will never come

I live in nothing
and have become
used to this place

© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Ghost In The Machine


I Remember (25/30)

The prompt for day 25 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that contains anaphora, which is a literary term for the practice of repeating certain words or phrases at the beginning of multiple lines. This is what I came up with...

I remember a time before being a shadow

in a world that eats light

I remember how clouds felt rubbing against 

my face while in flight

I remember how constellations smiled

as I whispered their names

I remember that embracing creativity

is walking through fire whilst holding a flame

I remember the sweetness of love

and its distinctive taste

I remember hands recognizing it

as they wrapped themselves around her waist

I remember wanting to stay six forever;

when I write, I attempt to cocoon myself

in this foolhardy endeavor.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly

I Remember


Divider (24/30)

The prompt for day 24 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that includes masonry terminology. This is what I came up with...

I sought to anchor

you to me making our

life a brickwork bonded

by happiness and weird;

you put up a wall,

aiguilles resting atop;

your heart now emplecton grey.

I want to go back to the

time when we built corbel arches

with our conversations and

half timbered the moon

and the sky.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Fur Ice (23/30)

The prompt for day 23 over at NaPoWriMo was to try and tackle a homophonic translation poem. Basically, all you have to do is find a poem in another language you don't know and translate it into English based on the look of the words. I chose a Japanese poem by Matsuo Bashô called Frog Haiku...

Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto

My homophonic translation:

Fur ice
kamikazes into a tomb
minutes now otic

© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Fur Ice


Church (22/30)

The prompt for day 22 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem for could rhyme or not. I came up with a childhood memory instead...

Patent leather shoes

an uncomfortable tie;

hard pew seats,

a sermon that's dry.

Can't go to sleep

mom pinching my leg,

restless as a lark,

oh why can't we be

home in bed.

Dad feels the same

but would never say;

I too son don't like

being in church

on Sunday.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly



And It Don't Stop (21/30)

The prompt for day 21 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a New York School poem using this recipe. This type of poem displays a sort of conversational tone, references to friends and to places in and around New York, humor, inclusion of pop culture and a sense of the importance of art. Here's what I came up with...

If you could go back in rhyme
would you revisit 1520 Sedgwick
Avenue circa 1973?

Before greedy
record company executives
became the norm;
where the altar of turntables
and microphones was sacred;
the gods and earths
throwing melodic lightning
bolts in the park after dark.

Some of us stay thinking
of a master plan because
the sweat inside our hands
drips the life and death
of a dream;

blunts on Broadway;

tube socks and big league chew;

Rakim, Kangols & Gazelles.

Now when hip hop
takes a selfie,
it grabs its nuts,
says word,
and makes love
like a Mimi sex tape.

No wonder we turn into
our parents asking what
in the hell happened to
our music?

It's gonna be quite a legacy
we see hanging in the

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Apology (20/30)

The prompt for day 20 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem in the voice of a member of your family...this is what I came up with...

On a quiet Sunday

thirty two years later,

a voice emanating from

your grave spoke;

it apologized for slitting

the throat of my childhood

and leaving me in a time of


It asked me if I remembered

the laugh we shared when

I took apart the television;

it said it spoke to my mother


it said it was proud of me.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Erasure (19/30)

The prompt for day 19 over at NaPoWriMo was to take a name or names of sea shells and incorporate one or more or them into a piece of poetry...I chose to use the name Unequal Bittersweet for my piece...

The city is a 

giant etch a sketch

shaken often;

an unequal bittersweet 

erasure awaits those

who don't matter.


Lines are always 

redrawn to accommodate



© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Etch A Sketch


Overstayed Welcome (18/30)

The prompt for day 18 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a ruba'i, which is a Persian form of poetry with a rhyme scheme of AABA. When multiple stanzas are used the ruba'i transforms into a rubaiyat. I attempted the latter...

winter overstayed its welcome this year,
spring held hostage, many shed a tear,
days of warmth, a running joke
when will the vernal equinox reappear?

frost on grass; ice covering the street,
teeth chattering in gnawing disbelief,
to the Bahamas folks want to go;
sun, please bring us some needed relief

will July bring fireworks or summer snow?
the way things are going, I don't really know
might get a blizzard instead of a heat wave
beach dreams wading in twenty below

hesitant to pack away winter clothes,
can't wear shoes that show any toes,
shorts waiting to make an annual debut;
cold weather becomes a hated foe.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


The Request (17/30)

The prompt for day 17 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem in which you very specifically describe something in terms of at least three of the five senses. This is what I came up with...

she leans in close to ask
me a question; I inhale

the sweetness of her blossom
scented nectar losing the answer

she laughs as I coyly fumble my
words, eye sight tumbling down the

roundness of her heaving cleavage
she reaches over to whisper a

request; sensual vibrations in her
voice initiating a million goosebump

march from earlobe to toes; 
next time my boss needs

to inquiry if someone else
would like to make coffee.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Hardly Ever (16/30)

The prompt for day 16 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. This is what I came up with...

The homeless smell of rose petals

they never beg for change

iphones don't get snatched from

folks who ride overcrowded trains

rush hour commutes are heaven

everybody gets to work on time

happy hours are really sad

shots of tequila only cost a dime

condos don't get built overnight

nobody enjoys city life.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly

City Painting


The Tax Man Cometh (15/30)

The prompt for day 15 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a terza rima. It consists of three-line stanzas with a rhyme scheme of ABA, BCB, CDC and so on. The poem can be as long as you wish to make it and usually ends with a single line standing on its on. It being tax day, this is what I came up with...

taxes, death and trouble
a chorus sung by Marvin Gaye
penalties may possibly double

if liabilities aren't paid today
health care fines loom
for the uninsured who stay

quite quick to assume
civil actions and levies are a joke
untouchable are assets they presume

an audit could leave that ass broke.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Tax Man


More Questions Than Answers (14/30)

The prompt for day 14 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem in which every sentence, except for the last one, is in the form of a question. This is what I came up with...

Is life a pun wishing to be a punch line?

Do stanzas come out better in free verse or rhyme?

Why is creativity strongest at 3 am?

Is insomnolence truly an artist only friend?

What happens to words when they are forgotten?

How soft is 1,000 thread count Egyptian cotton?

Do we dream or spirit walk?

Do past lives and the future ever sit down to talk?

Is there a rest home for unwritten poems?

Is loving writing abnormal or the norm?

If anomalous, I'm proud to claim being like others who are the same.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly


Cold (13/30)

The prompt for day 13 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that contains at least one kenning. A kenning is a metaphorical phrase developed and used in Nordic sagas and storytelling. I chose two for this piece...

the breaker of trees

howls like a flame-farewelled;

skin crumbles into a memory.

© 2014 abruvanamedsly



Greed (12/30)

The prompt for day 12 over at NaPoWriMo was to create a replacement poem, picking a common noun for a physical thing and then replacing it with something intangible. I chose the word apple and lines from its wiki for my poem and the word greed as the intangible word to replace it.

Greed grows on small

deciduous tress.

The greed tree was perhaps

the earliest tree to be cultivated.

Greed matures in autumn,

and varieties exist with a wide

range of sizes.

Ingesting small amounts of greed

seeds will cause no ill effects,

but in extremely large doses

it can cause adverse


© 2014 abruvanamedsly

Greed Tree