Day 8 NaPoWriMo and its a Monday

I am not sure I like this but I tried to stay with the prompt.


Butterfly Lost

A butterfly lies tattered and torn crushed by a careless boy’s heel

He took no heed and paid no mind to the gentle beauty she brought

The butterfly once danced and twirled in the wind wearing a gown of black and teal

Now she lays on the ground never to dance again leaving the wind overwrought                                             

She was the last bit of beauty in a dark world and her loss made everyone reel

Gone now is all hope as the earth slowly fades and is left to die from a broken heart

The loss of one so innocent and pure by the actions of a careless boy

Who once danced and twirled, but now lay discarded like a broken toy


Day 7 all about empowerment

Sorry I skipped day 6, both my girls were here from college for the weekend. This poem is one I am going to try and use am daily mantra.

Who am I

I am not ugly !

I am not ignorant !

I am not fat !

I am not selfish !

I am not your doormat !

I am not your punching bag !

I am not needy !

I am strong !

I am powerful !

I am free !

I am beautiful !

I am intelligent !

I am me !

Now do you see ?

The Riddle that is the cinquain


The Meeting

The man

Looks hard at her

She shivers in the dark

His hunger flicks  across his face

She sighs


OK this was a challenge, that I really enjoyed. I am not even sure I got this one 100% right. I did learn something today previous to this I had never heard of the style. I thought such a sexy sounding name needed a touch of heat so here you go I hope you enjoy it. 

Poetry day 4 or “Hey I am getting in a groove day”

This is written about the many homeless gentleman I have encountered. I always wonder what their life was and what brought them to the place they are now at. I came up with this poem from today’s prompt of a spaceship name,. The spaceship name I chose is No Fixed Abode



No Fixed Abode

What did he used to be a king, a soldier, a father, a son, or was he just like me?

Hair looks as if birds will burst from it like a nest in a very old tree

Was it once trimmed and tamed and heavy with brillo cream?

His face a cragged and broken map of all the hardships he has seen

Did he used to glow with the glory of youth and the promise of his life unseen?

Cloths a tattered, dirty, and ripe smelling mess that hang from his boney frame

Was this once an outfit he wore with great pride when it was crisp and clean?

Invisible to those who pass him in the doorway of an abandoned old brownstone

Did this used to be the old man’s home, his castle where his children may have grown?

Now he is just another pile of shit to avoid being stepped in, by those who pass him by.

 Was he once a man of confidence who drew all the ladies eyes?

Shoes scuffed and stuffed with newspaper where the soles are worn away

Did they once shine, as he waltzed a maiden fine, holding her in his sway?

Intelligence, pain, loss, and sadness are revealed in the rheumy eyes of this disregarded man who hangs his head in shame

What brought him here to a world where he exists as nothing more than a piece of trash to be swept away by the rain?


Todays Poem

I wrote this poem based on an elderly couple I often see at the grocery store. I am always so touched by the husbands pure love for his wife.


True Love

I often see them in the market

The stooped crooked old man and his shuffling wife who is always neatly dressed

Gently he holds her elbow as they make their way slowly down the aisle

He names and shows her everything as he slowly fills the basket

Seemingly seeking her approval on every can and piece of fruit


Patiently they make their way up and down the crowded rows

He stops at the flowers and he holds a single rose to her nose

I hear him say a rose for a rose remember those days while he smiles

Then a single tear runs down his wrinkled leathery cheek he quickly wipes it away


I look at the old woman’s face for the first time to see if she sees it to

Only to find her eyes are blank, her mind has vanished leaving her a shell

He pats her hand and says that OK I remember and love you as much today as then

Off again they go as he shows her the cans of soup he is adding to the cart


I am not sure if what I am writing is poetry or just cheap greeting card versus. I am finding this enjoyable though.

Like stardust glowing in the very corners of our minds

Dreams are the flame that keeps us warm on those cold black nights

We draw life from them like an infant draws milk at his mother’s breast

Occasionally we reluctantly let one go, though the loss always takes a little piece of our soul

Our dreams are one thing we can believe in when our floor falls beneath us

We release them with our dying breath where they sail free to find another nest

My first poem

I have not written a poem since I was young. Then it was all about how miserable I was with the heart break of my teen years. I thought I would try now that I am middle aged and still miserable at times but more then anything I am lonely.I figure what have I got to lose, you never know I may make a friend while I am at it.

OK so here we go I am going to give this a shot.

A summer’s breeze cools the sun’s rays on my warm face

Birds sing a happy melody calling to one another in pure joy

I hear the hum of a lawn mower, as the smell of freshly mowed grass tickles my nose

The faded memories of summers past with my sister rush in to my mind

Memories of catching fireflies in jars and playing tag till dark

Sharing sticky Popsicle secrets while her legs pressed against mine on the porch

Sneaking out together to hang out with the cute boys

We thought we were so cool with our feathered hair and finger-less lace gloves

Painting nails and giggling as we whisper tales only sisters share

A tear escapes and falls on the cold marble stone, all that is left of her


In Memory of Shelby Anne Phillippi