Saturday, July 20, 2013

sketchbook: why anna leigh does yoga

part i
Wake up every day, consciousness blunted in shadows of closed shades. Promising to be different, swing thighs over the edge of the bed while anchoring the weight of the torso rising. Imagine the creaking gristle around the heart rebellion against this daily sense of death curdling at the edges in the sentiment of the morning rise. You are not just an automaton, an organic crane, giving yourself pep talks to get up and do this thing again. Oh wait, first stare into the blank wall trying to remember the escape projected from the transmitting brain – dreamscapes meant to distract from the growing concept that you are lying to yourself daily hinted in the dead pan way you stare at said wall. Blink. Now inhale deep sweeping the cobwebs spun haphazard in the emptiness burrowed inside and blow those fuckers out. This is what we call depression. Getting up and out of bed is what we call the first response in treatment.

Friday, April 5, 2013

NaPoWriMo2013: day five

At Night
Sentinels watch,
Electric secrets hum
kept by transformer drums, we fear
a.r. morgan, cinquain kinda

Sometimes my day expects more from me than I would want it to, especially when I need time to write. This weekend, I will post day 3 & 4 in a collection.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

NaPoWriMo2013: day two

To lie to others
we guarantee successful
first you lie to self.
 a.r. morgan, haiku

Its not exactly today's prompt or is it? Perhaps a liar's paradox. Hmm. I can already tell weekends are when I will have more time for my thoughts to flesh out. As a side note, I really need to learn how to shell up so I can keep with a feeling and still be a worker bee. Buzz Buzz goes the energy~

Monday, April 1, 2013

NaPoWriMo2013: day one

A Commuter's Life
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Rides the breaking dawn.
Her steps pressing cement racing
blushing skies, stammers in
the cheating wind – a puckish ally
to a plastic bag catching flight 
crossing the intersection,
perpendicular to her gaze
morphing currents in the wind,
Until five stories up
she sees an air jellyfish liberated
to take on this day
and abscond into the sunrise
leaving moon buoyed to the sky,
as she makes it to the bus stop
on time – her consolation prize.
by a.r. morgan

I chose to use the prompt and included the first line of Walter de la Mare poem, Silver as the first line of my poem.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

giving it a go

Thirty days. A poem a day. Prompts to help along the way.
My exhibitionist side is excited.
My introvert wants to shell up and keep doing it Emily Dickinson style, except with the sex and without the white dress.