30/30 National Poetry Month Challenge

They're both too old
For playing games
Yet mature enough to know
What they want
Nothing has changed
In the last fifty years,
Men still want sex
Women still want love
The gears are shifting
But the lines are the same
He doesn't want commitment
She wants to hyphenate his name
They sit at the table and discuss
Strategies
But in the end the plan
Is still lame
They have secrets, sprinkled with some truth
They admit it
They want to do the do
But in the morning
He's the same
And she is too
Nothing's changed
And they're both fifty-three
So she decided
He can do him
And she'll stay free!

29/30 National Poetry Month Challenge

I write with my back against the wall
Looking up towards the ceiling
But my eyes are focused
On letters being pressed by
My thumbs
I write laying on top
Of my bed
On my stomach
With my elbows buried
In the sheets
I write while sitting
On the table
And my feet swinging
Back and forth
Making that swishing sound
I write standing still
With my legs spread apart
While riding the train
To help keep my balance
And when I'm thinking about
Writing I have visions
That cause my heart
To race
And my toes curl
And then I close my
Eyes
And my whole body
Jerks
And I moan
Puff
And sing
And when we're done
It's performance poetry!

Missionary Position

28/30 Haiku

Time did just fly by/ I realized when I started/ twenty-nine Monday

Yesterday

Love's Flight

I'm too much of a lady
to tell you the things you really need to hear
like you're handsome
and all but a bit
too arrogant
which is comical
because your
insecurities
scream louder
than the heights of your flesh
your life is a mess
and you got nothing
to offer me
in other words your
plate is empty
but you're too
cocky
to see your shortcomings
and
I'm too much of a lady
to set you straight
so I'll walk away.

Love's Limits

Writing because it rights the wrongs
that lay around in my head trying
to confound me
I know what I know
but scribing helps to remind me
that the melodies in my head
best serve me when I put them to music
creating my own personal song

I write because it's therapeutic
saving me hundreds of dollars
keeping me on my own couch
behind these four walls
I need mirrors
all around so I can see
my beauty which lies deeper
than the eyes

Writing because it rights the wrongs
that lay around in my head trying
to confound me
I know that you have no idea
of the depth, I am, buried internally
you're only allowed to see the me I present
but once you've touched
the heart of me you've touched all of me.

27/30 National Poetry Month Challenge

Those spaces between the lines
Thick, thin, colored and redefined
They take you places
From here to there
Right next door, across the state
And to another world
Pages
Turning one at a time
Smooth, ragged, shiny from laminate
Notes in margins
Help to remind
This is where you hope to see
Your name in lights, bright
In print, simple
Black and white.

That Book

Tupac Must Be Smiling

I sat down one day at work

to try and pump my poetic

side

I found his book

something about a rose

and something harder than dirt,

concrete

his passion

and his words

hit like bricks

yet soothe like

chamomile

he speaks

of justice, lost, blind and found

he speaks of truth, strength and love

abound

so many things have changed

since he saw life last

I’m thinking

Tupac must be smiling

because of all people

Nelson Mandela

is free

at

last.