Free Verse Friday!

Am I to do this too?

Clean the dishes?

Sweep the Floor?

Paint the bathroom?  Today, I’m torn.

Write a poem, draw, or clean?

It’s really not so hard to see, right here on my pad of paper.

But decisions are made every weekend and most nights—tend to my family and home or breakaway

and play for the day?

About ...

Dreams and eternal things  … that hold hope and joy.

And I need order to begin.

Chaos can be tempered with mental-glue:

Hold tight to what’s bubbling inside my chest 

Pumping in my heart.

Rise up foolish thoughts and dreams of another world-- 
You win!

Last Summer I found volumes of poems from years ago, and I'm having fun re-discovering old emotions, many I still struggle with.    

I'd like everyone to join in "Free Verse Fridays".  If you do, leave your blog link in the comments. This may become a weekly project. 

Write. Write. Write. 

In any form or thought.  Don't ever stop!     

April is Poetry Month!

I've unearthed volumes of poetry since digging up old diaries for the YA novel I'm working on. Many of the poems are in (desperate) need of editing. I've wanted to share a few for awhile. But I was scared. The poems below were written in the 1990's.  

Alone

I always write when I feel alone,

Inside my mind, there is a home.

The stories or levels, the steps the stairs, an attic holds you unawares.

-->

What lurks inside those shadowy places? I never really see the faces.

***

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Creating through thought and creating despair. I see you with others and try not to compare. Maybe it was the words we said. Or the hopes we shared. This caused my head to believe you cared. Childish, I know in my head, but my heart will pretend, and go till the end.

***

If it’s silence we want why create tears? In the hearts of millions a thoroughfare of fears, collapse under wishes unreceived, no need for greed.

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Cast away the mask one wears to cover, the face of hate not shared by another.

***

Tear apart

Fixed ideas

That chain you

Keeps you

Behind

Your stranger

Facing up

To breathe

The danger

Insanity

Not forced

To linger

Not wrapped

Around

Your little finger

Leave me to the heights

Of wonder

I’ll move aside

The rocks

-->

I’m under.