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
God.
©
2014 abruvanamedsly
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
haiku
© 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
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
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
Church (22/30)
The prompt for day 22 over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem for children...it 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
Guggenheim.
©
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
need.
It asked me if I remembered
the laugh we shared when
I took apart the television;
it said it spoke to my mother
often;
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
the
affluent.
©
2014 abruvanamedsly
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
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
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
reactions.
©
2014 abruvanamedsly
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