A Trivial Soultion

a trivial solution
lacking common sense
lacking any value
you give it no merit.

you give me no merit.
you laugh with
daggers in your eyes.

and all those times I longed to
make you see me,
wither

into fragments

of broken memories.

turning to
ashes,

turning while you are laughing,

laughing, laughing

all the while.


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The prompt was to use a mathematical term to inspire a poem. If you knew me, you would know, how ironic it is that math could inspire anything but loathing in me.

Here is an explanation of the term I used



Trivial

Poetry Carnival

Would you like to find more readers for your Poetry blog?

In the spirit of meeting new poets and getting exposure for as many blogs as possible, this site will be hosting a Poetry Carnival.

The idea is to send in a entry with a link to your personal favorite poem on your blog.

I will list all of these links on February 17th. The deadline to submit is February 14th.


The Rules:

1. Submit one post from your poetry blog.

2. The poem must be in English.

3. Send your submissions to IlovetowriteSMP@yahoo.com

Each post should include:

The name of your blog.

Your blog's URL.

The name of the post and it's corresponding URL.

Your screen name.


This idea was suggested by Kilroy at

Fear and Loathing


Check out his blog for an interesting read. Right now he is running a Blog Carnival that aims to promote any type of blog. Jump in and take part!

I write therefore...

I love you, poetry, because you are mine. You belong to me like my breath, my blood, my bones. I adore the way you flow, a river over cold smooth stones, and how you dip and drop ten thousand miles to the ground you fall, fall, fall, letters flying through the sky. Words shooting through the night, and when the right one finds me, I breathe and come to life. Poetry, my goddess laying down to be adored, I love you for what you give: these words prove that I lived.


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday.

All Poets Invited to Connect

I have started a new project. The aim is to grow a community of poets who will read, comment, link and support each other's efforts. Will you lend your help?

http://poetswhoblog.blogspot.com/



I wanted to say thank you to Billy the Blogging Poet for this


http://bp411.blogspot.com/2007/01/sara-pufahl.html


He is working tirelessy to promote poets who post their work online. Check out his site at

http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/

She

She moves with an air
of
unbearable sadness,
and limbs heavy as

thousand year old tree branches.

She is unclaimed,
unforgiven,
not chosen,
not living.

She lays on clean, white sheets
in a cool, dark room
and drifts off to

sleep
away

what was supposed to be her

life.

A Grave Thing

Gravity wraps me in greedy arms,
pulling me under the tide
drowning me in the waters
of my own
damn pride

you always had to be right
you always had to be right
you always had to be right

and I can hear you now,
beneath this bitter slice of moon,
as you croon
your
lullaby

and it goes

you always had to be right
you always had to be right
you always had to be right

it ricochets off the walls of the night
you always had to be right


NOTE- This poem was written to take part in Poetry Thursday. The first line comes from Deb R.

You can find her poem at
http://debrichardson.com/blog/2006/08/03/poetry-thursday-inspired-by-song/

Many thanks to her for the inspiriation.

My hands are tied

strings latch my limbs,
tying me in knots,
making what I am not

all that matters


sentences you say,
can not change a thing,
can not make the truth

all that matters

dizzy lost time,
tugs the course of my life
till what I want to deny is

all that matters


and all that matters is....

my hands are tied



NOTE- this poem is inspired by a post at Poetry Thursday. This is my first time responding to one of their prompts so I hope it was done in the way the poster intended.

A beautiful bride?

she only wanted simple things
to grab her slice of the American dream

like her mama
and the ones before
before, before

she only wanted to walk home
and in her door
to smiling faces on bodies two feet tall

and each night fall
to sleep
in arms that would hold her steady,
steady, steady

she only wanted simple things
to get a slice of the American Dream

but he left
like the ones before,
before, before....

and simple slipped through her fingertips
once more, once....


like before, before, before.

Fade to Blue

It started with an explosion,a flash of light killing blue,
and soon the whole damn world knew

it was the end... of time.

And so I rushed, ran through the streets, ran wild as the toxic breeze,
to get back to your side.

Without surprise you reached for me, as if you always knew, as if this was just a script-
the last scene coming true.

The minute stretched, and yes oh yes that minute was divine, then the sun turned coal, and we.. and earth.. and love... all ran out of time.

NOTE- This work is part of an excercise at New Writers and Readers Blog. There is a link to the group in the sidebar.

Murder Your Darlings

this isn’t the kind of thing you can get in
or out of
without blood on your hands,

without
stealing breaths, without regrets, without
paying.

don’t get in this trade and think you can
stay clean.
it’s not that kind of thing.

it's
soul spilling

and someone always gets

hurt.