Monday's Must Nots....kinda

I've had a very poetic weekend. It was magic. And the magic and has spilled over onto this beautiful Monday morning wherein I am going to slightly hijack my own blog and post some poetry of my own creation.  I've taken a writing prompt from Warsan Shire's poem 34 Excuses for Why We Failed at Love

So, instead of a list of things I must not do this week, I am giving you a list of reasons that I must not date a poet....enjoy!

16 Reasons I Could Never Date a Poet

1. Because I fall deeply in love with words and every time I heard a dope poem I would feel like I'm cheating on you
2. Because I couldn't bear the jealousy of watching you speak your magic to anyone else
3. Because I need you to work out our issues with me and not through ink
4. Because I don't want our life to be reconstructed for and performed to dimly lit rooms of strangers against the backdrop of string basses and snapping fingers
5. Because I'm not actually a great speller
6. Because I'd love and hate to read myself in the pages of your notebook
7. Because I can't handle the pressure of giving birth to a poem and trying to raise her into a legend
8. Because you will always make far more sense in similes, matter more in metaphors and appear far more accurate in intentionally-crafted imagery than in flesh
9. Because I'm not sure that I will ever measure up to the way you write about me
10. Because the way my heart gets taken, my words could never belong to just you
11. Because we both write to escape and we would spend our lives running to and from each other
12. Because I would want you to speak to me with the eloquence that you do in performance and I know better
13. Because you probably write about love because you're still trying to figure it out
14. Because I write about love because I'm still trying to figure it out
15. Because at least one of us needs to have feet firmly planted....we can't both be dreamers
16. Because life isn't long enough for me to write you into existence

Six Word Saturday - In Poetry

She wrote my DNA in words.

Warsan Shire is a 25-year old Kenyan-born Somali poet who currently lives in London.  I was introduced to her poetry recently, but she isn't new to the art - her poetry already translated into multiple languages other than English and (wait for it).....she's coming to TORONTO!!  I can't wait to hear her words live, PLUS, I will be in attendance at a writing workshop she will be holding the day before.  

Ever since I heard this poem, I can't get it out of my head.  It speaks to my core like no other poem ever has.  I'm even considering the last lines for a tattoo....

"...you are terrifying and strange and beautiful; something not everyone knows how to love."

Have a listen....

~TSC~

It's Saturday...and you know what that means.  The gang is gathered over at Call Me Cate's place and they're started on another round of Six Words.  You can play along too.  Share your six.
(The button will take you there!)

100 Words... #tbt

Another throwback...to not that long ago, actually, but it was another blog from another time. Anyways, the poem is exactly 100 words. That was the challenge....not 101, not 99. Its a good writing prompt. 50, 100. Pick a number and stick to it. I'd love to read some of yours if you take me up on the challenge....


--


Once I could again breathe,
I didn't know whether to be angry or ashamed.
I had been hit with every name in the book
And both of his fists...
I'd been thrown into the wall, then onto the bed -
Last vision was him overhead
Before hands unclenched
(Just enough to fit my neck)
And then pressed down.
Time slowed.
He did not --
Holding my gaze
And my breath hostage.

And then it was over.

"I should go," he said,
Taking the stairs
And my pride.
But leaving the ring.

And then an hour later, he came back for that, too.

--


~TSC~

I think I'm just about done

I think I'm just about done being sorry

for wanting more than I get

for demanding less than I deserve

for being uncomfortable with the feeling of knowing I need more.

I think I'm over that feeling --

That maybe-I-shouldn't-rock-the-boat feeling

the one that worries about you getting wet

but ignores the nagging notion that I should just jump ship.

I'm pretty sure I'm through

rationalizing

excusing

explaining

legitimizing

and sculpting beautiful images from the bullshit

and calling it art.

And as much as there is a piece of me that wants you to return the feelings I've sent your way...

I think I'm pretty much finished waiting

for you.

----

Yeah....it was that kind of weekend.


~TSC~