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Bad Poetry Friday

There’s only two more days left in National Poetry Month. Make them count!Tofino 049


Sundays were for sleep

Now the calendar is full

of toddler playdates




Getting jealous thoughts

when I read an amazing book

is how I will fall



Drink coffee coffee

coffee coffee drink coffee

coffee coffee drink



Everything I write

is hot wet garbage left out

for vultures to eat



This would be easy

if I actually said things

that sounded profound



2016 has been a

series of obituary

headlines in papers



Why do I grow old

each day when I still feel young

inside my body?



This month of poems has

flown out the window on a

blustery spring breeze


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Bad Poetry Friday


Sometimes poetry

sneaks up behind you

and taps your shoulder


Sometimes poetry

hides from your heart and the words

slowly disappear


Sometimes poetry

is a cat on a brown couch

teasing a little dog


Sometimes poetry

isn’t anything at all

beacuse your brain hurts


Haiku, I haven’t

forgotten you, even though it

seems like Megan has


My baby waddled

into toddlerhood when

I wasn’t looking


Tiny toddler

is a f-5 tornado

tearing through my house


Summer snuck in while

Spring was busy stopping to

smell the new flowers


I can’t tell which is

worse-this idea or these

poems I dare to write


April brings baseball

cool nights listening to the

radio broadcast


I can’t stop reading

books that make me ugly cry

Shelve them with Kleenex


What if I ran out

of things to say right smack

in the middle of–


Sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep

chasing that dragon nightly

sleep sleep sleep sleep


Today was awful

too many bad things to share

But I ate pizza

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Bad Poetry Friday

April is National Poetry month. Inspired by the amazing Jason Reynolds I am writing a poem a day, though mostly haikus.

These are the poems from April 1st-8th


April is for poems

but I am not a poet

This will surely suck



Haikus are just texts

sent before there were cell phones

poet to poet



Early bird wakes me up

Drinking coffee under the trees

Dad is still asleep




Wherever we go

it always rains on our trips

Metaphor for life?



The tide is too high

for dogs to chase seagulls

Goodbye, Oregon



My kid hogs my bed

steals covers and my pillow

Wish I fit in cribs



Summer has snuck in

much like a teenager who

has broken curfew



I used to dream of

going on wild adventures

Now I dream of naps

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Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled (2/16/2000)

You remember me from my wilder days

when I danced all night on tables

and laughed really loud

You remember my nose ring,

camouflaged shorts and the

daisies in my hair

You remember me as independent

self-assured and happy

but that was before the depression

the countless hours spent hunched over

a toilet seat and weighed the world on my bathroom scale

You know me now as conservative

and careful

quiet and thoughtful

not daring to speak out

You say, “You’re nothing like you used to be.”

I grew up.

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Bad Poetry Friday

Not Even the Rain (c. 2000?)*

*In which I blatantly rip off Jewel songs

It’s days like these that remind me of you

I read Barry like we used to do

laughing at how insensitive he could be

I can almost feel your arms around me

sitting on the front porch

with our herbal tea

the sunlight on my back

the cool morning breeze

I look up

remember your smile

the cleft in your chin

how it drove me wild

But even the rain

can’t wash away  the pain

of my heartache

even the sun

can’t warm my soul

I lie in bed

with covers to my chin

nights are lonely without you

I get cold

the car sleeps on your pillow case

even he knows that this is no longer your place

nothing else can make me feel the same

not even the rain

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Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled (6/11/00)

I wish I could waste away again

to be be size zero

have my ribs poke through my skin

feel the plane of my belly

the mountains of my hip bones

to be tiny and fragile

I wish I didn’t carry around

the weight of the world

and hate myself everytime I looked at myself

I wish I could erase two years time

and 45 unwanted pounds

to be queen of the world again

even if only for a day.

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Bad Poetry Friday

Mistake (c. 1997?)

Wildflowers bring back

floral memories

of the mountains

when I was 16

and naive

oblivious to everyone but him

How sweet it was falling

like the morning rain

on the roof

that tingling sensation of love

too often we fall for things we can’t have

too often we need what we don’t get

but leaving is easy

the hardest part

is learning to forget

the smell

the taste

the feel

of love

the look

the sounds

of love

the want

the news

of love

guitars and slow songs

tug at my heart strings

like a movie

it was a dream come true

the bitterness of it all

tastes so sweet

How could I be so naive

to believe in love?

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Bad Poetry Friday

Words Like Stones c. 2/16/1998

You bruised me with your words

attacking my innermost affections

my reaction to your abuse

was the turn of my cheek

I am humbled by creation

I have innovation

and I want to be whole

You stare at me hard

envisioning a fight

I just take a deep breath

and turn out the light

you sleep on my pillow

steal the covers in your slumber

wrap your arms around me like a blanket

you smother me with love

taking away all of my hope

I need to be accepted

love like my mother

who gave her heart to him at the age of twenty

you can love me forever

like a sister

or a lover

and I’ll seek comfort in my dreams.


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Bad Poetry Friday

Love c.?

Love wasn’t patient

love wasn’t kind

love stuck a knife in this heart of mine

love was jealous

love was mean

love swung his fist and shattered my dreams

love didn’t believe

or endure

or trust

wihout love, I am dust

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Bad Poetry Friday

Briar Rose c. 1997?

Briar Rose you never wake

you hide in deep slumber

and when your Prince Charming came

you didn’t even roll over.


Sleeping Beauty your pills are a vice

you take valium with vodka and ice

amd dream pf darkness

that washes like the sea


You will never lose sleep over your beauty.



This was likely inspired by a Robin McKinley book.

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