Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem about a very large thing.
Expectations, are my largest creations, that I set around myself, until I can’t tell, if who I am at my core, when I stop trying to be more, is someone, anyone would care for.
The stories of embarrassments and awkwardness,
like the time my gum fell out of my mouth during a show,
and hit the head of the person sitting below,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to laugh at.
My childhood memories,
like playing hockey in the streets,
trying to cook eggs in the summer heat,
and my wild dreams, and fears,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to hear.
My favorite guilty pleasures and adventures,
seasons and regions,
foods and views,
prose and shows.
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to know.
The mistakes and heartbreaks,
like the time I found a love note for someone else,
and all the pain I felt,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to help.
The people I love, and are in awe of,
who help make me complete,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to meet.
My quirks,
like the way I don't screw bottle caps on tight,
or say some words quite right,
or the way I exaggerate,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to appreciate.
My lip glaze,
scents and wines,
I've applied over time,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to taste.
The lines of my life,
outlining my body,
the parts of me I love and hate,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to trace.
The things that make me happy,
a crowded table, full of food and people,
who are always able,
to bring laughter and chatter,
and kids,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to give.
The lessons learned and bridges burned,
the softening and hardening,
the depths and tests,
the swirls and twirls of my becoming,
I didn't know then, but I've always been, getting shaped for you.
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. I blended old lines with new ones for this prompt.
They say tigers cannot change their stripes, but I don’t think that’s right.
I always saw the stars as scrambled in the sky,
until I saw them through your keen eyes.
You pointed out Orion,
with his belt of three stars in a row,
and the Big and Little Dippers,
with their handles and bowls,
and The Twins, two stick figures,
with their arms stretched far,
and The Bull with his v-shaped face,
found first by locating the large red star.
It seems stars can rearrange themselves,
I’ve seen it so myself,
I wonder now, what else I’ve missed as remarkable,
because of what I thought impossible.
I've seen the inner workings of my own heart,
twist and turn,
as it learns,
to love.
I think that's all proof enough,
to believe,
that something can also change with you and me.
unwrithings 