St. Hallows Eve
Day 29 of 100 in my 100-day writing project
Poetry
Thinly sliced.
Day 27 of my 100-day writing project.
Spell the word.
Day 18 of my 100-day writing project
The story of a summer
Day 10 of my 100-day writing project.
Boundaries.
If lines could be drawn and walls could be built, I’d be the chief of my thoughts and the queen of my feelings.
Hiding
I roll my tongue and hide it inside the cave of my mouth.
A month of shadows
I slacked and moped around, whined about being creatively blocked, and emotionally drained. June was a month of shadows.
Trance
Slipping between random movements of my eyelids, I pause to breathe. My breath rises and falls; it chases the film that unfolds. I’m a witness.
Skies of yore
The sun bursts into a million flames, painting the sky with its richness of light ochers, bright yellows and burnt siennas.
Freedom
The sky always tells a story.
Thursday
I breathed fire. I revered the sun. I wore my passion in my heart, and swore my life to my art. I danced to the tune of cackling embers.
Dripping daffodils
What are daffodils? How do they look, or where do they grow? and how do they smell? This poem explores the depths and breaths of what a daffodil is to the poet.