NaPoWriMo – Day 9 (Concrete)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a “concrete” poem – a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem. 

Is like catnip on a rope.

nearly being.

almost catching.




NaPoWriMo – Day 7 (News)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem based on a news article. Between working and finishing up my last semester of grad school (!), I am falling behind. I am hoping to do two poems today and two tomorrow to catch up.

If I were to compare,
my tears,
to raindrops,
my eyes,
would stream molten iron,
like the skies,
of distant Wasp-76b—
hot and heavy,
but capable,
of being forged,
into something beautiful.


NaPoWriMo – Day 6 (Bosch)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem from the point of view of one person/animal/thing from Hieronymous Bosch’s famous (and famously bizarre) triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights. Unfortunately, I am running out of time today so just going to have to keep it quick and simple!

In a land of magical beasts
and fantastical feats
of lore and legend,
I can only imagine
that being ordinary
becomes extraordinary.




NaPoWriMo – Day 5 (Twenty Projects)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem using/doing all of the “Twenty Little Poetry Projects.” This was a good creative challenge! I came very close to not doing this today, but alas here is my poem.

Quieting White

Doubt is an avalanche,
burying you in mountains,
cracking cold, sweating sorrow,
quieting white,
like that time Dwight proposed in Yellowstone.

Doubt is tomorrow,
or maybe nothing at all, like the trees, in the fall, without their leaves,
Can you binge me?
Or does watching TV too close make you go blind—

Just give it time,
to show the slow signs of life,
like the cheetah gently after prey,
I’ll take your life away,
Dee, they’ll say, shaking heads.

I’m going to let you down,
A deniable truth, no excuse,
you will forget to remember me,
whispers the door,
just as the snow piles on more.


NaPoWriMo – Day 4 (Dream)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem based on an image from a dream. This prompt excited me since I dream often, and have been working on lyrics based on an image from a dream I had! The image was of a man crying strings of rope (I know, weird). Anyway, here is the resulting poem.

My Tears Hang Like String

My tears hang like string from your face,
I tie them up so you can keep my pain.
And you’re sitting there, in your chair, signing SOS in the air
How’d we get here tonight?

You turn left, I turn right, I’m afraid we will never reunite.
It gets harder every time
My only hope is we can undo this end and find a new way to be friends again
Is it okay if I wait for that day?
Or does it make me too afraid?

Oh stranger, stranger can you still love me?
Even if we don’t know who I am?
Oh stranger, stranger will you ever come home?
Or am I to live this life alone?

It’s getting dark, you make a remark, that sounds like a cry
Why’d I? Why’d I? Why’d I?
I have no good reply.
But I want to hide in the past where you can find me, if you ever find yourself  hesitating,
you can always come back to me.

The pressure is getting thick, do I tell the truth to make this stick, or do I open the door
To let in one more lie?
I gotta tie this up tonight.

Why’d I? Why’d I? Why’d I?
Why’d I have to leave?
Why’d I have to believe there was something better for me?
Why’d I have to go?
And leave us all alone?

Oh stranger, stranger can you still love me?
Even if we don’t know who I am?
Oh stranger, stranger will you ever come home?
Or am I to live this life alone?
Or am I to live this life alone?

5634660787_3c24482a86_oPhoto by

NaPoWriMo – Day 2 (Specific Place)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem about a specific place —  a particular house or store or school or office. With class tonight, my time is super limited so I am building off of a poem I wrote previously!


Where wild meets west, the vast sky turns into a real-life painting of mountains burning purples, blues, yellows, reds, and oranges twice a day; a prosaic production. Stars sprinkle the same sky at night, until you crick your neck trying to count them all. On the hottest days, it smells like melting asphalt. But on others, it smells like dusty earth giving rise to life—Javelinas chortling while grazing prickly pear. Rattlesnakes coiling and hissing. Rabbits hopscotching across rocks speckled brown. Lizards darting between low-lying, crackly bushes. Cacti standing guard, arms outstretched, as if offering you a hug.

Here, in the valley, there is space to stretch out. There is fresh air to breathe and time to breathe it. The days are warm and long; the kind of days you want to cozy up to until you fall into a sweet slumber with:

Dreamcatchers hanging
above, snaring bad dreams to
dissolve in the sun.


NaPoWriMo – Day 1 (Action Metaphor)

I am so excited to participate in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) again. I have been slacking on writing this past year, so hoping this will be the kick-start I need. I enjoyed the experience last time I participated in full back in 2018—check out my highlights reel from that time.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life – one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances. 

Love Is Like Carrying An Overloaded Plastic Grocery Bag

Sometimes I feel love is like carrying a plastic grocery bag so overloaded with expectation that it begins to stretch and stretch from the weight until I am holding two thinly stretched pieces of plastic that I hope will stay intact until I can get somewhere safe and set the load down.

But instead,
the bag breaks
and spills out
all the contents
of my heart
for everyone
to see.


NaPoWriMo – Day 13 (Spooky)

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is: Write a poem about something mysterious and spooky! 


Broken toys
litter the floor,
A young voice
asks for his green dinosaur,
and a child’s pale face peeks through the door,
just like the night before.
Giggling, whispered conversations are overheard in the halls,
and brown crayon drawings cover the walls.
And yet, no child lives here at all.

I wrote this last year for NaPoWriMo, and I thought it worked for this prompt as well. Hoping to write new poems in the coming days, but just been so busy with work and school. My creativity is at an all time low with all the stress!