The assignment was to write four poems for my creative writing class next Friday. I thought I would share a few of them since I've had very little say lately. Most of my life is recovery these days, as it should be. But the process doesn't make for very good blogging material right now. It's just a little too intense. So this is probably the best alternative for the time being.

Opposites with No Working Definitions


Months of Storms

“I’m a moody …sometimes.”
What did you say?
What did you call yourself?
As always, I cling to
a few words of yours
and become deaf to the rest.
It’s not my fault you’re moody,
however, I know I irritate
you; your irritation is natural.
Were you vehemently pissed
at birth? Or did you learn to
tell the world
“F**k off!”
when you hit puberty?
Whatever the reason,
I gasp when you say that.
Not because of the f-word
(although you think so)
but because your outrage
slams into steel
rending it into disparate pieces,
leaving the bewildered
to save themselves
and me to my amusement.
I’ve seen, heard and felt
immeasurable cataclysms before
yours flows through and around me
because I simply refuse
to be moved


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