Poetry

Poetry

Bronchitis

My lungs ache, they burn from the coughing.
The pressure in my head grows, it feels like it will explode.
The sinus infection has expanded to include bronchitis.

Who will deliver me from my distress?

At the pharmacy, I struggle to find enough money for my medicine.
At home, sleep evades me as I wait for the drugs to take effect.
The weariness of my bones seeps into my soul.

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At The Funeral Home

There is something wrong with the air.
It feels heavy.
It sits awkwardly in my mouth, my throat, my lungs.
I cannot breathe.

There is something wrong with the air.
It stings my eyes.
I look around frantically for a glimmer of hope or joy.
I cannot see.

There is something wrong with the air
It clogs my ears.
I listen numbly for the sound of laughter,
But hear only crying.

It isn’t the fragrance of the flowers.
It isn’t the dim light illuming the coffin.
It is the emptiness
Knowing a friend is gone.

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The Christmas Tree

The large green tree
waits patiently
next to the growing pile of wrapped Christmas presents,
the dust covered boxes of last year’s ornaments,
and the couch, where the college student,
home for the holidays,
lays half delirious,
from this season’s stomach bug.

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Poetry

A fragment of one of last night’s dreams remains with me this morning. I was in school. I had been distracted and was trying to find my place. We were studying poetry and I commented to the instructor about having not been writing much poetry recently. She asked me why I hadn’t been, and I said I didn’t know. I’ve just been distracted.

Well, maybe there is a message in that dream fragment. Maybe some of the reason I haven’t written much poetry recently is that I read or listen to some great poetry and get discouraged. Then, I read some blogs where people are putting up poetry that just doesn’t resonate with me, and I think, I don’t want to be putting up poetry that doesn’t resonate with anyone.

Yet, like with NaNoWriMo, there is something important about just doing it, so today, I’m going to start putting up some of my poetic scribblings.

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