From the Archive: Write A Night Time Poem

this is for the wide awake clock says three and work is at eight mind never sleeps counting sheep questions running deep with no one to spoon and nothing to gaze at except a moon clutching pillows tight missing exes who weren’t right dream wishers hoping on stars that don’t shine tallying how many weeks to work their dimes into dollars waiting on Sandman to holla wondering why they can’t catch a break night loners

 

*free write/sms aka whatevertheyaint/july 2019

astrology astronomy beautiful constellation
Photo by Sam Kolder on Pexels.com

 

 

 

30 BOOK CHALLENGE

Okay, okay, I’m a rebel. Do you know how hard it is to choose only thirty books? I have more than that in my three-tier case in my living room, not counting the closet space shelves in my bedroom and the black case in the study room.

Slowly I narrowed down to fifty-one titles (and even that was hard). For the full listing, in no particular order, click at the bottom of this page.

For now, though, here are a few favorites that I’d like to keep…for a while:

Beulah Land by Lonnie Coleman

Sugar by Bernice L McFadden

The Collected Poems by Langston Hughes

The Bitter Side of Sweet by Tara Sullivan

Butterscotch Blues by Margaret Johnson Hodge

The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson

The Runaway Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini

Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

11/22/63 by Stephen King

Petals On the Wind by V.C. Andrews

1984 by George Orwell

Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

Big Girls Don’t Cry by Connie Briscoe

Invisible Life by E Lynn Harris

Random Winds by Belva Plain

An American Marriage by Tayari Jones

The Clinic by Kip Langello

The Naked Face by Sidney Sheldon

Curious George by H.A. Rey

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susan

Bridge to Haven by Francine Rivers

I’ve Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella

Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin

Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah

The Romantics by Leah Konen

Ramona Forever by Beverly Cleary

The Girl Before by JP Delaney

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown

The Day Willie Wasn’t by William Corbin

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Continue reading 30 BOOK CHALLENGE

Trust Issues

The last time someone told me the truth it only proved the other truths were lies

So excuse me if I rummage through old baggage in search of something new

Unpacking has taken a while I’ll admit, and most of this stuff needs a garbage

Then I could make room for something better; then I could make space for you

Is that too heavy?

Saying so won’t make me think any less. Saves us both time.

Understand I’m a little broken. Except I’m real about it. See, that’s all I’m looking for–honesty.

 

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

august 2018

I Can Only Speak for Myself

Initially, there’s this raw space. We may wonder how it got there, or more importantly, why it’s there.  Perhaps we conditioned ourselves early in life to bandage wounds and carry on, so we slap a Band-Aid on it until it festers, not realizing that giving it time to breathe is better than covering it over.

Then, somewhere during the process, a scab forms. There’s this protective layer now, and we go about our daily routines as we did before. That is until we accidentally bump that spot, exposing it again.  Maybe we overestimated ourselves, or maybe we were just trying to…forget. In any event, there it is. And yes, it still hurts.

An undetermined amount of time passes, and we notice the scab is now a smooth scar. We run our fingers over it, remembering that unsightly place.  But we can do it now, we can run our hand across that area. It reminds us that grief cut us open.  Yet, we survived.

SSM-S

aka Whatevertheyaint

Oct 2017

 

 

 

  • I can only speak for my own experiences. Like most people, there have been more than a few negative events in my life, but I learned to just acknowledge them and allow myself to go through the process. This poem came from waiting on a sore to heal on my leg and then, at random (which tends to happen when I’m ready for my brain to SHUT DOWN), thinking how wounds are a lot like the process of grieving, or dealing with any life-changing event.