National Poetry Month Day 21-Golden Shovel

Today’s poem takes lines from a poem I love using the words in order as the last word of each sentence. This form is called a Golden Shovel. The poem I borrowed from is a Nikki Giovanni poem linked -> Ego Tripping (there may be a reason why)

You Think 

You think I’m discouraged but I’m
too good at being myself, so
move back, watch yourself and these hip(s)!
I’m grand, spectacular even.
I’m moving in my
success and,yes,errors
too. You are
not ready! I come correct!

The bold words are the end lines/borrowed words from the poem I chose. Woo-hoo day 21!

National Poetry Month Day 20

The light is new.
It shines out, onto and through everything-
It glimmers pink and red
bending at sharp angles showing off and whispering
about love, love, love.
The light is soothing.
It cradles and holds the
goodness in close and rocks
from side to side.
The light is understanding,
stretching and contracting
to make room for growth
and mistakes.
The light is vital. Take it in.
Let it do its work.

Another late one but it’s here. Just a few days left. I’m determined to finish poetry month with 30 poems!

National Poetry Month Day 18 – That’s a Rap

I occasionally like to step into alter ego space and pretend I’m a rapper! What it do baybeee?! Lol!

I have a bunch of raps (some downright absurd) saved on my phone (some with audio lol).

Today’s poem is a rap. I recorded/videoed myself rapping it, but I don’t know if I’m gutsy enough to post it right now (or ever). Warning for seshual innuendo

You think it’s me you want
when you’re looking in my eyes
but when I lick my lips
I know you’re thinking ‘bout my thighs.
Come and get me, baby, if you want me so damn bad
I can promise you I’ll be the best you ever had.
I said come and get me, baby
if you can handle it
I will peel you quick and eat you like a banana split!
...wit nutz

National Poetry Month Day 16

I bet a lot of us are currently missing hugs and kisses – platonic and romantic during this pandemic. Can you remember a really good hug, a kiss, a moment of holding hands to get you through this hard time? I can. I close my eyes and go there.

She kissed me so 
that I am still warmed throughout
and know her as the only sun.

National Poetry Month Day 15 – That’s a Poem

I’m tired. Words are flitting around in my mind but nothing really inspires or makes much sense. I’m hoping to write my way into a poem, so please excuse the rambling intro. Here I go:

A list of words can form a poem if organized the right way. The look on a face in pain can be a poem, most definitely. Biting into the sweet,liquid of the cherry hidden in a thick slice of cassata cake - yeah, for sure, that’s a poem. Having someone show you they love you is, well, you know.

Wishing blessings , peace, and love to you all. The days feel like they are getting harder, more ridiculous, more uncertain. Do what you need to take care if yourselves. Thanks for reading.

National Poetry Month Day 14

I was just talking to a friend about our reactions to the stress of quarantine/Covid-19. Our bodies are trying to understand. Our minds are trying to adapt and cope. We are doing the best we can. Today’s poem is inspired by that.

Nothing New

Nothing new in or out. We are somewhat stale. Aware but hardly capable of moving too far ahead now. Take two steps forward, five at most. Then rest. It seems like hardly anything. But our orbits have collapsed. We are still vast but matter gathers around our ankles and blocks our various paths. Take two steps, five at most. Survey what there is in front of you or go back. Step back into familiar space for a rest.

The landscape ahead will indeed have changed by the time you’re ready for the next lurch forward. But that was always the possibility.

We are all seriously doing the best we can. And this, to so many, is nothing new. Sending love and light to each and every one of you. Be well and take whatever time/rest you need.

National Poetry Month -Day 13 Girls, Girls, Girls

There is a janky, ratty-looking strip joint that I pass on the way to and from work that has a pathetic sign out front. It says something about ‘New girls’ on one night or another-I’m not totally sure. But the sign is just pitiful. I’ve wanted to use some of the words from the sign and write about it. Today’s poem is a for the girls.


Every Tuesday at Club Moon:
New girls
(High)Noon girls
(Half)Newt girls
Nebula-loving girls
Now & later girls
Nabisco wafer and Nespresso girls
Nude girls
Null and Void girls

Girls, girls, girls

A sort of found poem , I guess. I don’t really know what all the sign says so I just made it up.

Thanks for reading! Happy poetry month.