the rest of february’s micropoetry part one

Day fifteen

Poem for that summer we went fishing. Whether the lake was still or not.

Day sixteen 

Poem for rebuilding a life. For rekindling hope. For making a new poem.

Day seventeen 

Poem for the one who collects tears in lacrymatories. Not a competition. 

Day eighteen

Poem for bare walls and empty chairs. Fill them with something good. Let there be the sound of laughter. Share a meal with the one who has become a stranger. 

Day nineteen 

Poem for the moment. Waiting. Everything thick and heavy. Clouds waiting to burst. 

Day twenty

Poem for the moment you wiped away the tears. Pain as a baptism. Welcome.

more attempts at micropoetry

Day seven

Poem for the reasons we never recognized. They all have their own faces. 

Day eight

Poem for the smoothness of your skin. The way you feel in my mouth. 

Day nine

Poem for the gifts I gave you which you never received. Could we try again? Let’s try again. 

Day ten

Poem for too many memories. Or just the one. Or too few. 

Day eleven

Poem for your perfect feet. Beautiful. On the mountains. 

Day twelve

Poem for the ghost that inhabits every picture I have. It’s always the whisper of you. 

Day thirteen

Poem for every possibility. Choose something. Give yourself to it. Give yourself to me. 

Day fourteen 

Poem for the beginning and the end. All the joy. Please let there be joy. 

Various attempts at micro-poetry

I haven’t posted my little scribblings due to busyness, but here  are my attempts at writing some micro-poetry. 

Day one 

Poem for when my thoughts are like fish. My thoughts are like fish.

Day two 

Poem for that moment when you touch me. Keep touching me. 

Day three

Poem for the morning when everything seems bigger. Or the evening. 

Day four

Poem for all the ways we deal with edges. Sometimes it takes years. 

Day five

Poem for when I exchanged one costume for another. Nothing really ever fit. 

Day six

Poem for waiting for the flowers to bloom. I was told it could take years. I’m not sure I’m that patient. 

#NaHaiWriMo 2023

This month is National Haiku Writing Month, during which participants attempt to write at least one haiku every day (February being the shortest month).

I'll be participating again this year, though I may not always write a traditional haiku, allowing myself a little leeway to try some micropoems, or to ignore the supposed 5-7-5 rule/ format.

Once again, I'll be using the februllage prompts as a starting point.

Feel free to join me, or at least follow along!

cento for NaPoWriMo 2022

some things should remain hidden.
this still has all the silences in it,
every small expression.
i regret that
i cannot speak –
there are no words
we can endure,
searching for things to talk about;
they didn’t last long.
my desire is always
for you and emptied.
that, too, is written down.
we sat at the table
and now we are all waiting.
we have only hunger
suddenly in our midst,
unbidden, a gift
to bring into the light
inside my body.
we can only name
how we were once.
we live with the silences,
wear them like armour;
all that waiting.
receive what small comforts there are
everywhere you go.
decide what is true and what is not,
which things are which.