Readers Share Poems for National Poetry Month!

April is National Poetry Month, so last week I invited newsletter subscribers (What, you haven’t signed up yet? See what you’re missing out on!) to share poems they’ve written. Most of us have written poems somewhere along the line, probably in elementary school, perhaps in high school or possibly in a creative writing course in college.

I don’t know exactly why writing poetry feels so challenging for many of us. As with many things, perhaps we make it too hard. After all, poetry is one of the purest and most rule-free forms of creative expression. I hope to try my hand it again sometime soon, and I hope you will too.

Now, it’s time to share some poems!

The first poem is by Carol who has published a wonderful book of poetry, which I have by the way. Her book is called Metastatic Madness

B R O K E N

        I’m broken…

Like the clock in the hall,

It stands so straight and tall,

But chimes twice when it’s one,

Deep inside the damage is done.

No matter that it’s an heirloom,

Its headed for the trash room.

        I’m broken…

Like my childhood china doll,

The victim of an errant ball.

Once wore a wide-brimmed hat,

Head shattered by a youthful bat.

She lies discarded in a heap,

Destined for a hole six feet deep.

        I’m broken…

No longer strong in the saddle,

I’ve been thrust into a battle.

My invisible scars are all inside,

Flesh weak, spirit lost its pride.

Cancer runs pretty deep,

Can’t shake it off even when asleep.

        I’m broken…

Incurable illness is a game-changer,

My life keeps getting stranger.

I wake at night in a cold sweat,

To whom do I owe this debt?

I feel so horribly off-track,

Desperately want to send it back!

        I’m broken…

No more wishing and hoping,

Get on with adjusting and coping.

Perhaps I could fill in every crack,

Unlike the doll in the discard sack.

Get the clock to chime again,

Live in a peaceful state of Zen.

The second poem is from Eileen, aka Woman in the Hat. 

Fatigue

There are days

fatigue sits on my shoulders

its fat ass crushing my bones

My skeleton disintegrates

into tiny fragments leaving my flesh

like a rumpled unmade bed

 

There are days

I feel like a stuffed doll

strewn across the cold tiled floor

Abandoned, lifeless, lumpy

Matted stuffing

peeks out from ripped seams

 

Some days

my brain shuts down

as if the bay fog rolls through

Its lacy wisps wind and twist

past each hemisphere

like a curtain falls on the light of day

 

It’s the kind of worn-out tired

an old woman feels

when she sleeps

in the chair

in the middle of day

 

I could do that too

Upright

Right in the chair

Here at work

I could tip over and crumple

My keyboard a pillow that presses my cheek

leaving imprints of E and W and 2

 

But I don’t

I can’t

I must not

 

So I wobble through

like a bobblehead

on shaky springs

until I go home

collapse

and sleep in my chair

The third poem is from Dear Daughter, blogger at That Mutt. 

When I Couldn’t Keep Up With My Young Dog …

… when my old dog moves so slowly, when I want to leave him behind,

I think of all those years, thousands of miles by now,

when I couldn’t keep up with my young dog,

and he always waited, never left me behind.

Hope and Fireflies

 

Thank you for reading these wonderful poems and thank you to those who shared them! More poems and/or links welcome in the comments!

Do you ever write poetry? Why or why not?

Do you have a favorite poet?

Why do you think writing poetry is often intimidating?

Sign up for newsletters from Nancy’s Point!

Featured image by David Bonta via Flickr used under CC licencing.