from the prompt: Write a poem of at least ten lines in which each line begins with the same word (anaphora).

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Where

Where the wind blows, reaching all of us until there is no escaping it Where the river flows, meandering until it meets itself in an oxbow lake Where the corn grows, rustling endlessly despite the still summer day Where the raven goes, watching us from its perch on the power lines Where the eyes close, escaping a world they can’t help but see Where I decompose, watching myself fall into component bits Where my clothes fray and unravel, leaving behind torn polyester Where the rose sprouts from my chest as I fade into obscurity Where I wrote my poems and prose, where I thought about the places Where I once stood.

i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.

I did my first poetry reading today! (And it wasn't in English haha, I wrote a poem for it in Italian.)

I think it went okay! It was terrifying tbh, but I never thought I'd do something like this when I started writing and posting poetry.

So I just want to thank everyone who follows, likes, reblogs, or even just reads my posts. Thanks for the support, y'all.

You give me the courage to share my writing with the world.

Throwback to when I took painkillers and woke up with Photoshop open on my computer to this image I had made

I think in pictures (eidetic memory), so I just think of a place, and I can see it in my brain. Then I just describe what I see.

Also your writing is so good! I love your characters.

From the prompt: Write a haibun about a place you remember.

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Heatwave

The summer sun beats down on the small playground. The swings, fortunately, are spared as they remain in the dappled shade cast by the trees. Their black seats are slightly more cool, the chains that hold them creaking as they sway in the occasional gust of wind. The dry, crunchy ochre grass dotted with dandelions is too short to be caught by the same wind, so it remains as still as the black asphalt of the road.

the heavy sunshine

is baking suburbia

no one goes outside.

Thank you! I've always loved describing things, it's definitely one of my strengths. (Cries in character writing is hard lol)

From the prompt: Write a haibun about a place you remember.

text under the cut

Heatwave

The summer sun beats down on the small playground. The swings, fortunately, are spared as they remain in the dappled shade cast by the trees. Their black seats are slightly more cool, the chains that hold them creaking as they sway in the occasional gust of wind. The dry, crunchy ochre grass dotted with dandelions is too short to be caught by the same wind, so it remains as still as the black asphalt of the road.

the heavy sunshine

is baking suburbia

no one goes outside.

From the prompt: Write a haibun about a place you remember.

text under the cut

Heatwave

The summer sun beats down on the small playground. The swings, fortunately, are spared as they remain in the dappled shade cast by the trees. Their black seats are slightly more cool, the chains that hold them creaking as they sway in the occasional gust of wind. The dry, crunchy ochre grass dotted with dandelions is too short to be caught by the same wind, so it remains as still as the black asphalt of the road.

the heavy sunshine

is baking suburbia

no one goes outside.

From the prompt: Write a poem that begins with a line from another poem, but then goes elsewhere with it.

My line: How now, spirit! whither wander you? from Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. Not quite a poem, but this is the line that came to mind first.

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Puck Sprite

How now, spirit! whither wander you? It’s raining, wouldn’t you prefer to stay inside? You could write ‘till the ground has dried Sitting by a window, humming to the sound of thunder As your words dance along to lighting’s wonder. I myself prefer the rain’s dull roar The calm of standing soaked in the downpour I rather like how the world tends to retreat Leaving me alone with the reflections in the street. I wander alone, contemplating the empty avenue.

How could I forget about the extruded cytoplasmic jelly?

I was working on some bio reading and-

I HAVE NEVER SEEN THOSE WORDS IN THAT ORDER

hahhahahahah, that is beautiful

SQUID NERVE TOOTHPASTE

I was working on some bio reading and-

I HAVE NEVER SEEN THOSE WORDS IN THAT ORDER

hahhahahahah, that is beautiful

SQUID NERVE TOOTHPASTE

i think it is good to warn people in advance about the circumstances that will cause you to bite them and i think that having given that warning it is good to follow through when the time comes

From the prompt: Write a poem about language in which you make up a word.

text under the cut

Kerflugleshlog

The word for when my brain doesn’t know what its doing And when I speak, the wrong words come out Because I’m thinking both too fast and not at all; My brain did a kerflugleshlog. In the kerflugleshlog, my thoughts are stewing Until, long later, they process and emerge into doubt My words emerge on the paper as a messy scrawl And they emerge from my mouth as nonsense dialogue.

from the prompt: Write a poem about what you are not or what you should have been. Use anaphora.

not my best, but I hope you enjoy!

text under the cut

Time has erased parts of me, great swaths washed away Like rain has erased the chalk on a sidewalk The colors washed off by the water, but rain makes way For the artist to make something new on the empty canvas.

My favorite color was invented by a Swedish German man, But if I found it today, I’d think twice before I open the can Because this color’s chemical formula is copper arsenite And I would much rather live to see tomorrow night.

Write a poem about your favorite color. Don't mention the color by name.

My Thoughts on "Good Enough"

“GOOD ENOUGH is NOT good enough. You need to be BETTER than GOOD ENOUGH.” - I have heard this too many times.

Good is defined as something to be desired or approved of. | Good is having the qualities required for a particular role. Enough means as much or as many as is required. One would assume that together, they mean something positive. Like having completed a task satisfactorily, or in an acceptable manner. The use of the word “acceptable” implies that the work is accepted by others. “Good enough” means that the work is good, and that it is enough. “Good enough” does not, in any way, mean that the work is bad. If it is bad, the work would not be termed “good enough.”

I’m trying to apply this knowledge to my life. However, I am struggling to do this. Likely because I’m having a hard time accepting myself. And by extension, my work. So why can’t I believe that I am truly “good enough”?

I love Reddit sometimes.