Poetry – Sylvia Plath Reincarnated

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I fear I may be
the unfortunate reincarnation
of Sylvia Plath.

Born fifty years to the day
from her initial entrance,
I draw the parallels
between our lives –
lines that connect
far more than astrology.

Both of us poets,
wordsmiths
living through our literary confessions.
Desperate to be taken seriously –
a gift freely granted
to the masculine,
but almost impossible to achieve
with a soft voice and gentle hands.

Both with daddy complexes
due to the abandonment
of an early death,
we seek that missing link
in other men
(some more worthwhile
than others).

Our final connection results
in a morbidly strengthened bond –
a certain disregard
for our own lives.

We dream of being free
from this earthly game,
but lack the forbearance
for a lengthy battle.
Instead, we choose to dream of release –
and in our darker moments,
even plan it.

Poetry – Halloween Tree

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Halloween tree
orange glitter
on twisted branches
holds up the bodies
swaying
in the breeze.

(Yesterday I bought my first Halloween tree to decorate with ornaments at Target. I’ve wanted one for years and finally got one. It is a spooky black tree with orange glitter on it and prompted me to write this little poem. If I am able to find enough ornaments and such to decorate it with, I will try to share a pic later!)

Poetry – The Joker

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Why so serious
the clown asks,
eyes shut tight
trigger cocked
and pulled.

Another fiery
explosion,
corpse fireworks
light an artist’s
starry night
sky.

(This poem pretty much came to me fully written while in the bathtub, as sometimes happens lol. I had to jump out and grab a notebook and pen before I forgot it, leaving wet footprints in the carpet and water droplets on the page. My favorite line by far is “corpse fireworks”! Did you notice my subtle nod to Van Gogh as well? By the way, “The Dark Knight” is my favorite superhero movie of all time because of the great Joker performance!)

Poetry: Nightlights

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I got a new blackout poetry journal that uses classic literature to inspire new works of poetry. This first one is my attempt at making original poetry from a random page of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan:

Nightlights

My love,
were not all natural
dreams forgotten?

The skeleton
crawled about the floor,
rattled up the chimney,
and bathed her hand in sleep.

Nightlights pulsed
while strange children
found new mothers
in the faces of the night.

Once all were safe
her fears sat down
by the quickening fire,
warming the nursery.

Poetry – Scrambled Savior

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I meant to share this poem around Easter, but forgot. Guess I had too much going on. This poem just sort of wrote itself, with the images of both the commercial and sacred aspects of the holiday mixing together in my mind. It is not meant to be offensive to religion, but instead, to compare and contrast the cheerful, innocent brightness of welcoming spring with the actual gruesome reality of a crucifixion and resurrection:

Scrambled Savior

Easter
pastel eggs
poor Jewish carpenter
whipped, beaten, and scrambled
last supper
omelet