I Won't Write About You

I Won’t Write About You

I won’t write about you
Until you’re out of my system

In the meantime
I’ll use someone else’s words

I wanted to make this longer. To list all of the reasons I won't write about you, but then I realized that I would be going against my word; so this is all you get. Take it or leave it. You'll probably leave it.

89

In a bit of a rush; heading out the door to see some friends' gig, but wanted to make sure I posted this my Read Write Poem prompt poem for the week. The title is from one headline and the poem is from another. I enjoyed this prompt and actually worked on a few others, but this one is my favorite and the only one that I feel is complete at this time. It's short, but powerful, at least to me. Enjoy!

Prolonging the Life of Berries

Eat.
Pray.
Love.

Then what?

Get married.

Here are the links to the two articles that I got the headlines from:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/20/books/20book.html?ref=books

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/26/dining/26curi.html?ref=style

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I only used four of the words supplied by Read Write Poem, which is disappointing because there were many good ones that I wanted to incorporate. In the end the poem rejected my many attempts at including more of the words. Who am I to argue?

In dreams this has the potential
To be more than a fling

In reality I’m too afraid to be the
Outer spoon

I don’t even like spooning
So I push you away
Press stop on the recorder

But not before coarse words
Fly out of busy mouths
In a bustle of lust

Making their way
Out of windows
And onto busy streets

Floating to where you first
Put your arm around me

I didn’t look back to see
If anyone was watching

The Word List: Spoon, fling, bustle, coarse, elocution, homeward, froth, salacious, hitch, rancid, 8-track, coagulate, diode, rant.

The Chosen Few: Spoon, fling, bustle, coarse.

Prompt Details

I don't know what I'm waiting for...

Untitled

I can still feel your lips on my neck as
your hands struggle with the guilty straps
of my dress

Fingers surveying my body

I love this quick heartbeat
This lump in my throat
I only hope you’ll come back for more

Ooh la la or calling number 87

I'm not sure if I did this right, but at least I tried. This is my poem for Read Write Poem's weekly writing prompt. Happy Thursday!

You want me to drape myself
in your absence.
Discuss politics and make you
lasagna for breakfast

You want me to allow myself
to enter into an abscess
of the air you breathe

You want to become an
extension of me

You want apostrophes
And angels and apologies
You want arsenal to launch
You want too much

You want to get off at Addison,
Armitage or Belmont
I want to keep going

See the anatomy of an
aerial view

The Harvest Series comes to an end.

Poem #3 also represents the final installment of the Harvest Series...at least for now. Details on this prompt and many other amazing poetry related things can be found over at Read Write Poem.

Dinner isn’t the meal in front of us
It’s the conversation we consume
Without regret
Without fear of getting caught

This is wrong
And we’re in the thick of it

We walk down the street
There’s no shame in our faces
My hand brushes your arm
Our legs touch

We have yet to consider
the consequences


Read Write Poem Poetry Mini-Challenge Details

RWP Poetry Mini-Challenge Day Two.

The Harvest Series
Poem #2

There was a time
When the news arrived
On my doorstep in pieces

I got the leftovers
The bits no one else seemed to care for
The ink would stain my hands

I trace the frayed edges newspaper clippings
With my fingertips
And whisper there’s no place like home


Read Write Poem Poetry Mini-Challenge Details

RWP has done it again!

How in the world does Read Write Poem keep sucking me into poetry challenges? First NaPoWriMo, now Poetry Mini-Challenges. And a better question yet is why in the world do I keep letting them? I guess the simple answer would be because I love writing and I they offer great inspirtation. A more realistic answer might be that I'm crazy.

Here's a link to the challenge details because time is precious and I'm too lazy to write it all out. Besides, I'm trying to pump out three poems in three days here people...I'm sure you can understand.

I'm calling my series for this first Poetry Mini-Challenge Harvest; which is a synonym of the word Cull. I chose the word harvest because when I wrote down the synonyms for the three words suggested it was the first one to jump out at me. This first poem for the series is of course untitled because as we all know I'm terrible at coming up with titles.

Thanks as always for stopping by, reading, commenting, and being a part of my support system. Also, if you haven't already visiting the new Read Write Poem site please do so soon. It's even more amazing then before. Now for the goods:

I remember trekking in leaves
Tokens of the day’s journey
Mom called it reckless

Packing leaves into garbage bags
The faces of jack ‘o lanterns printed on them
I called it festive

Trips in cars to visit long-time friends
Before I understood what stabbed in the back meant
Mom called them lessons

Packing cars with blankets and pillows and snacks
To visit Auntie in the hospital
I called those our last goodbyes

Perusing sales racks and window-shopping
Taking shelter in separate rooms
Mom called it survival

Packing boxes and driving away
A form of escape
I called it self-preservation



Poetry Mini-Challenge Details