Hello, my friends!
Since you guys really seemed to enjoy my last poetry post, I thought it was about time for another one! One of these days I’m going to put these poems and a bunch more into another book, but for now, enjoy some pretty words and pictures here on my blog.
Today I have six new poems: some are stories, some are thoughts, some are from my own experiences, and all are for you. 🙂 Have fun!
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Hello, my friends!
I was looking through my blog archives and oh my goodness, has it really been two years since I did a poetry post like this?? Well it’s past time for another one, then! I’ve been storing up a collection of poetry in my notebook for such a time as this. 🙂
Today I have ten new poems for you guys, accompanied by pretty pictures. I hope you enjoy slowing down for a moment and reading something a bit more serious and thoughtful than usual. ❤
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Hello, dears!
Before we get started, thank you SO much for helping my first post of sketches tie for the “best writing/poetry post” on Megan’s Best of 2018 awards! It was lovely of you all to nominate me, for that and for the other categories. It made my day!
Anyway, I mention that because… today I have another sketch for you! I wrote it almost a year ago, but waited to post it til I had another set of pictures to go with the words. Now I do, and I’m so excited to share it!
These words are a little bit strange, but honestly, so is my mind sometimes. XD I still like it (especially the ending), and I hope you do too. 🙂 Find a comfy spot, sit down for a spell, and enjoy…
Hello, dears!
I’m SUPER excited for this post, eep! I’ve been working on a secret project for the past little while, and today I’m going to reveal it! Ahem… GUYS, I WROTE A POEM BOOK.
Hello, dears!
Today I have something a little different for you. Usually when I post my writing, I post poems, but this time I’m going to show you guys four of my sketches. Not as in light pencil drawings, but as in small scenes from my life written as a cross between a long poem and a short story. I really like writing sketches, but I’ve never posted them before, so I’d love to hear your thoughts! Continue reading
goodbye…
hiding in the hollow tree that somehow still lives on, half-destroyed;
green truck rides through buzzing goldenrod and tangled berry brambles;
skipping up to Gram’s to get flour because we ran out… again;
sunsets leaking burning lava over the mountain ridges;
creaming corn days, warm cardboard boxes dripping with the smell of pizza for lunch;
treasure hunts for crystals by the side of the thorn-ringed pond;
building forts and holes and towers in a barn full of fuzzy cotton seeds;
climbing the hill to get fresh eggs, crossing the road to get fresh milk;
family gathered around a crackling bonfire by the creek overhung with mint;
the farm rolling out from under you at the top of the tallest hill;
art parties, tables laden with shared supplies and traded ideas;
walking under the majestic, white-boned sycamores under a clear blue sky;
church potlucks that are feasts, where we know each face at the tables;
the succulent sound of cows tearing off mouthfuls of grass in the pasture;
selling rusty metal parts and cow bones and broken bottles for pinecones at the island;
playing with friends in the grain bins, jumping off the ladder into the yellow corn;
capture-the-flag games and ATC trades after church;
finding litters of soft, tumbling barn kittens and watching them grow;
sledding down Gram’s hill with cousins and sipping hot chocolate afterward;
firefly-catching contests; flashing bits of flying gold captured in hands and jars;
club meetings: crooked stairs, dusty seats, shouts and laughter pounding the low rafters;
rambling nature walks all over the farm with friends;
eating picnic suppers on the flat roof outside our bedroom on a calm summer evening;
everyone gathered at the last chicken house, talking and laughing, relieved to be done…
goodbye.
_
new is a crackly word, an uncomfortable word –
it takes breaking in, like a fresh pair of shoes.
the old is familiar. it may be torn and falling to pieces, but it is love that made it so.
you know, don’t you?
when what we’re used to becomes what used to be,
the touch of change is sharp, its hold is slippery,
but oh, how can I bear to let go?
I know.
so,
goodbye, old farm, goodbye, old friends. goodbye, old life.
I’ll miss you.
I already do.
❤
***Allison***
Hello, my friends!
I’ve been collecting some poems in a draft for a while now, and today I thought it’s about time to share them. 😉 I quite enjoy writing poems, and I’m so glad that you guys have enjoyed reading them so far! Hopefully that trend shall continue. 😛
Ahem, shall we begin?
moon hammock
the moon through
bare black branches
becomes a lacy hammock,
spun with delicate glowing threads,
and suspended from stars.
cradled inside,
the man in the moon
watches the people below
hurrying and worrying
about their day,
and smiles softly.
for he knows how big a problem is
in a universe
millions and millions of miles wide.
he looks at the stars and knows –
not big at all.
home
we’re back again,
back to our memory foam house
that remembers how we sat
and laid our heads
and walked the floors
and made the beds.
it welcomes us back again,
back into the old nooks and
comfortable crannies.
we slip back into
the familiar grooves,
take our old places
in hearts and homes,
and smile the smile of
back again.
we were trying to carve out
new places for ourselves,
new dips in new pillows,
new ruts in new roads,
new places in new hearts,
but carving is hard work,
you know.
so for now we snap
back into place
like a seven-piece puzzle,
and breathe a sigh of relief.
we’re home again.
wildflower
they called her
brown-eyed Susan.
she was a wildflower,
her beauty fresh and pure
as sun rays and raindrops, with
wind-blown hair
and dewdrop eyes,
poppy petal lips
and a bright daisy smile.
she lit up her meadow
and spread her heart wide.
but wildflowers stay
only for a season
and then they
…
f a d e a w a y.
first world problems
this page won’t load,
the internet is slow,
and my tv only covers half the wall.
they’re out of organic,
i ate too much,
and i had to make that crust from scratch.
my purse must weigh ten pounds in coins,
they only take cash,
but no one has change for a $100 bill.
i have nothing to do but sleep,
but there’s not enough time in the day,
and i need to get away from all this stress.
maybe i’ll go to africa.
roses
once i wandered through
an old abandoned house
whose bones had broken long ago.
and in the cellar,
hanging in the dark,
i found roses.
they were tied to the ancient rafters
with brittle, yellowed thread,
fragrant with the soft, crumbling scent
of nostalgia.
i touched a faded petal and wondered
how something so old and fragile
could still be beautiful.
and i wished
to grow older
with all the grace of
dying roses.
the voiceless
we are the voiceless;
hear our silent cry.
our eyes have never opened,
our ears have never heard,
our lips have never spoken,
but if we could, we would say…
why do the ones who gave us life,
bring us death?
what have we done
that we should die?
_
people say,
the color of your skin
doesn’t matter –
it is who you are inside.
but does your size matter?
if your heart is too small,
perhaps it does not matter
what it holds,
if it will never get a chance
to tell.
_
we are the voiceless;
hear our silent cry:
we are innocent.
you cannot prove us guilty,
but we still die –
helpless.
hopeless.
voiceless.
**********
*sniff* Why is it so satisfying to write sad poems? :’) What do you think – do you like writing sad or happy poems/stories best? Which do you like reading best? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these and I’d love to know which poem was your favorite!
Also, before you go, could I ask a favor of you? I have sooo many post ideas and not enough time (and data XD) to post them, so would you help me choose which ones to post first?
Thank you so much for your feedback, dear readers. ♥ Have a simply lovely day. 🙂
***Allison***
Hey, guys! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving if you live in the U. S. I sure did! Each of our three celebrations was delicious, and it was fun getting together with family. 🙂
Anyway, today I decided to share a few more of my poems, since you guys seemed to enjoy seeing the last ones and I seem to enjoy writing them. 😛 Again, they’re unrhymed poetry because number one, I am NOT very good at putting my thoughts into the boundaries of rhyme, and number two, I like the free, flowing feel of unrhymed poetry. Don’t get me wrong, rhyming poetry is amazing too, I’m just not good at it. XD
Ahem. I shall begin.
********
sky soup
the sky is
a bright bowl turned over,
set upon the earth,
filled with clear blue broth
and floating mashed potato clouds,
peppered with black birds.
old one
skin crinkled and wrinkled
like a brown paper bag,
crumpled and creased
year after year,
until it is smoothed out,
soft and mellow from
the crush of Time’s hand,
lined with the paths
that the smiles and tears
left behind.
galaxies
my eyes are galaxies
with a star for every time
they didn’t come back
and I was left again –
one star among millions
and yet alone in space.
but each time they left,
I stood up again
and swallowed my tears,
adding more stars
to my galaxies,
hoping that my eyes
would shine bright enough
next time,
that they would see this light
in the darkness
and come back for me again.
raindrops
drumming.
pounding.
whispering.
tapping.
fast free falling.
sticking without glue
to everything they touch,
but only for a time and then
moving on again,
sliding sadly downwards.
weeping
to leave everything behind.
wavering, shivering,
quavering, quivering,
collecting, reflecting,
greens and grays together.
a drop reaches
the edge of the window
and
falls
off.
talking rocks
what if
there is a rock somewhere
that watched as the world was made;
that saw its perfect beauty break
into a thousand sharp thorns;
that carried the footstep
of the first fallen humans –
and the only perfect one –
on its back;
that felt the first drop of blood shed
and will feel the last;
that was thrown at martyrs
and held by kings
look closer at the next pebble
you kick down the road,
and wonder what stories
are locked inside its silent heart.
abandoned house
blank eyes,
a dusty soul,
a cobwebbed heart.
broken teeth,
a dry mouth,
a creaking voice.
but when the breeze passes by
and lifts the tangled weeds
from the old mat in front,
you can hear the old house
still whispering, “welcome.”
orion
what would it be like
to recline among the stars,
held together with twinkling joints,
drinking big dipperfuls of the Milky Way
and conversing with
the man in the moon?
***********
Ahh, that was fun. 🙂 I hope you enjoyed reading those, dears – I’d love to hear which one was your favorite!
Which do you prefer, writing poems or stories? Poems are easier for me (mostly because they don’t have a plot, heh), but stories are fun too. 🙂
***Allison***
I used to despise most poetry, especially unrhyming poetry. But now… now I actually kind of like it! It lets you look at the world in a different way. And I have to admit, it’s pretty fun to write. 😀 I decided to share a few of my poems today, which I hope you enjoy. I’m not very experienced with poem-writing so any tips or constructive criticism is welcome. 🙂
poems
poems slip on tinted glasses
and make you look at everything
upside down and sideways
until you don’t know where you started
and even the plainest, dullest things
are something new and wonderful.
bonfire
warm, nimble fingers
grabbing for a hold
on slippery branches, paper, sticks
then giving up
and sliding down again,
but leaving black scars
to mark their path.
hungry flames
licking with soft strokes
melting the wood
with warm tongues.
a burning sunset in a ring of stones.
art
the language of imagination.
art is spoken not
with verbs and nouns
but with brushstrokes
and colors
and lines.
art is spoken not
with the mouth,
but with the fingertips;
not only with the mind,
but with the soul.
some people are fluent from birth
and some must work
to master it,
but like all languages,
anyone can learn.
pool
there is nothing quite like
a pool, with its
liquid burden of blue
which wraps around you
like an cool blanket
and holds you up
on its strong, soft back.
when you plunge beneath
the surface, you enter another world:
still, silent,
save for the whisper of
your body as it
glides through
the water.
pools are
freckles and brown arms
and pink shoulders
where the sunscreen was too thin;
bubbles swimming to the surface
like fragile jellyfish;
sunbeams dancing together
in intricate patterns,
a web of yellow light
shifting and shimmering
in the cool blue water;
a place where everything
moves in slow motion.
vacation
a few days of
condensed work
for a few days of
condensed memories.
piano
a funny language
with an alphabet
of dots and lines.
its sentences are
spoken not with
the tongue, but
with the fingers;
not with the mind,
but with the soul.
playing piano is
reading a beautiful
story out loud with
your fingertips, a
story sung by the
heart of the composer
and captured forever
on a white paper page.
little things
a dew drop hanging
from a blade of grass,
poised for a dive.
a perfect blossom,
opening it’s shy face
to the world.
a set of brilliant colored pencils,
lined up like colorful soldiers
in their square tin.
a sunset burning up the sky
one flaming cloud at a time.
a basket of vegetables
sun-warmed and fresh picked.
i sometimes think
the best things come in
small packages.
don’t you?
the sound of summer
the deep bass of bullfrogs,
the cymbal clash of thunder,
the low roar of a lawn mower,
the staccato pop of canning jars sealing,
the juicy crunch of a watermelon slice,
the splash of a rock thrown into water,
the buzzing crescendo of cicadas,
the shrill soprano chirp of crickets,
the sweet melody of birdsong,
all weave together,
into a beautiful symphony:
the sound of summer.
That was fun! And yes, I am aware that the “art” and “piano” poems are very similar – almost exactly the same in some parts. But I couldn’t bear to change those parts out and I wanted to share both of them. XD
Which poem was your favorite? Do you like non-rhyming poetry?
***Allison***
P. S. Guys, you should really check out Hayley’s ATC trade! She needs a few more people to sign up before the trade is worthwhile to do, so if you like art, you should definitely look into it! 😀 And in case you’re wondering, I’ll be doing the trade too. 😉
Allison Marie 