I Am the Poem

 I Am the Poem

I am the poem 

I wrote before I was born.

I am the poem 

I write new every day.

I am the poem

of light iridescent.

I am the poem

that shines in the dark.

I am the poem

the leaf makes in the wind.

I am the poem

the wind fashions with leaves.

I am the poem

that ripples across the river.

I am the poem

the mountain etches on cloud.

I am the poem

the rain sings to the earth.

I am the poem

the sky prints on the ocean.

I am the poem

the ocean bellows.

I am the poem

the stars investigate.

I am the poem

that writes itself new every day.

I am the poem

God wrote before I was born.

Inspired by Magaly Guerrero's wonderful statement, 'I am the poem nature wrote with her teeth', posted on Instagram. She invited people to replace her last five words with their own. I completely failed to register the word 'five' in the instructions when I responded with my first statement above. Her idea excited me so much that I went on to pour out this whole poem. Then I noticed the bit about five words! Some of my lines do have five words after the opening phrase, but plenty don't. However I'm reluctant to alter them now.

Sharing with Writers' Pantry #75 at Poets and Storytellers United.

Following Blackout

Following Blackout

Be an uncrushed flower!

Burst into constellations of dance!

Love can be a monster, or not …

the choice is always yours.

Written for Weekly Scribblings #57 at Poets and Storytellers United, where Magaly invites us to 'scribble new prose or poetry inspired by one (or all 3) of the following lines (which are blackout poems, created by her): 1. Be an uncrushed flower. 2. Burst into constellations of dance. 3. Love can be a monster, or not. Feel free to use the exact words, or not—the choice is always yours.'

As you see, this is basically a straightforward found poem, found in the above instructions – with a bit of erasure to create title and last line. Which seems kinda appropriate for this prompt ... as well as, perhaps, the lazy way to approach it. (I can't help it; it just jumped out at me when I read the prompt, and would not be silenced.)

[Is it bad when the process notes are very much longer than the poem?]

The Bracelet In This Photograph

The Bracelet in This Photograph

This trinket here displayed

larger than life-size, on

my larger-than-life-size freckled wrist,

is no mere ornament.

Though I bought it on eBay very cheap,

it’s a treasure; and although it’s made

of common things like wood,

leather, metal, and either glass 

or hard shiny plastic, it’s a gem.

The large, staring eye looks back

at any ill-wishing gaze that might

approach, invade or damage me.

It mirrors and deflects 
all possible intentional harm, after first 

discerning same. It is a radar,

it is a shield, it is a weapon, it is a spell –

this strange and quirky, pretty little

trinket (as you think it).

For the Just One Word: Trinket prompt at 'imaginary garden with real toads.' And directly inspired by one of Magaly Guerrero's Instagram posts on a similar bracelet.