22 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 22 - SURPRISE-An Acrostic

Show me something new:

Upset and set askew

Reality for me.

Pervert the expectation;

Reach above your station:

It will set you free.

Shine, and I will too,

Eager to break through.

21 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 21 - Sweet

How sweet are Your words to my taste,

Sweeter than honey to my mouth!

Psalm 119:103


I found the honey in the tomb

And it was sweet.

I took it home

And shared it ‘round

And it was sweet.

You mixed it with a bitter drug

And called it great.

You built a shrine and locked it up

To keep the lepers out.

But honey doesn’t spoil

And, beneath the acrid bane,

It is sweet.

You’ve tried to keep it to yourself;

You walled it off to keep it safe;

But it was not meant to be hoarded.

Fling wide the gates,

Break down the walls,

And share with all.

It is sweet.

 

20 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 20 - Happy Feet


I miss the fashion and effect,

I miss the way they looked perfect,

But I don’t miss the aching pain.

I miss how fancy I would feel

In a pair of dazzling heels,

But I will not wear them again.

My feet are happier in flats,

And flats can have just as much sass,

And so, from heels I will abstain.

 

19 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 19 - No Opiate

I saw a prophet on the street:

His head was bowed in base defeat.

He had no home and naught to eat,

While pastors lie and steal and cheat,

And gratify our itching ears;

They pander for the cash and cheers.


And then the roar of masses strong

Drowns out the gentle tender song

Of Love. The rough and angry throng

Are but a clanging, strident gong.

True love is patient; love is kind;

But sometimes love is hard to find.


Religion is no opiate—

It is a cancer breeding hate.

The Church had promise to be great,

But then we closed and locked the gate.

To love is all we’re called to do—

Instead we fight o’er what is true.


The sweetness of the Word is lost;

The grace and welcome we have tossed.

We must return now to the Cross,

And burn away our filthy dross,

Our rags and rubbish, and the mould,

So all remains is purest gold.

 

18 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 18 - Like a River

Like a river, ever flowing,
Smoothing down the edges,
Wearing off the corners,
The more I write about my pain,
The more it dulls and fades.

17 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 17 - Kicking Up My Fancy's Heels

A dancer? Me? Not at all.

Being quiet is my style.

Chasing thrills is not for me.

Dance is graceful, I am not.

Every day I’d love to be

Found alone and peaceful,

Gathering my thoughts,

Hatching plots.

I am happiest creating,

Journeying within my mind,

Kicking up my fancy’s heels.

Leave me to

My own devices and I don’t

Need a lot:

Only pen and

Paper and a

Quiet

Room, and I’ll create a

Spectacle like you’ve never seen.

Triumph over struggle,

Untangling a puzzle,

Visiting fantastic

Worlds of magic and

Xenomorphs and

Zombies.

 

16 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 16 - Paint the Rainbow

Photo by Tony Ross on Unsplash
Photo by Tony Ross on Unsplash


Sunrise, sunset, weeping eyes—

Will you paint the roses red for me?

Paint the midnight rainbow bright—

Change it all and set me free.


Ignite a fire in my soul,

Turn light to dark and dark to light,

Change it all and set me free,

Paint the midnight rainbow bright.


Nothing gold can stay they say,

But still I say, love is the key.

Paint the midnight rainbow bright—

Change it all and set me free.


A sprout becomes a bud, then blooms,

Creating green out of sunlight.

Change it all and set me free—

Paint the midnight rainbow bright.


Sit beside the peaceful stream,

Dive into the deep blue sea,

Paint the midnight rainbow bright,

Change it all and set me free.


Violets are blue? But no.

Turn right to wrong and wrong to right,

Change it all and set me free,

Paint the midnight rainbow bright.


15 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 15 - So Wrong

I thought I knew the truth,

But I was oh so wrong.

I didn’t have a clue.

I thought I knew the truth,

But then I saw anew,

And I learned I am strong.

I thought I knew the truth,

But I was oh so wrong.

 

14 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 14 - A Butterfly

Who am I?

What is true?

I am a butterfly.


Learning to fly,

I will break through.

Who am I?


I reach for the sky,

Expand my view,

I am a butterfly.


I know why

I never knew

Who am I.


A worm was I,

But then I grew:

I am a butterfly.


I say goodbye

To that worldview.

Who am I?

I am a butterfly.



Image by Couleur from Pixabay
 


13 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 13 - I Was Caged

I didn’t know I was caged,

Bound by tradition and fear.

For years inside I stayed,

Unaware I was queer.


Bound by tradition and fear,

I trusted they were right,

Unaware I was queer,

I thought the dark was light.


I trusted they were right:

It was all I knew.

I thought the dark was light;

I thought the sham was true.


It was all I knew;

I couldn’t see to see;

I thought the sham was true

Until I’d broken free.


I couldn’t see to see;

I didn’t know I was caged.

Until I’d broken free

For years inside I stayed.

 

12 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 12 - Life Was Wild

Innocent, free, and playful back then—

Sometimes I miss who I was

When I was a child and life was wild:

No bills, no job, no goals, and no cause.


In the forest outside of my home

I explored and made up tales,

And life was wild when I was a child

On five acres of bush with no trails.


I read every book I could access,

Feeding imagination,

When I was a child and life was wild,

And everything was inspiration.

 

11 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 11 - I Have Nothing

How do I write about inspiration?

I am not inspired,

Not today.

I’m tired and drained and out of sorts—

I have nothing.

 

10 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 10 - My Rainbow

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay


I was born with a rainbow inside me but I didn’t know.

It lay dormant for years then it quietly began to glow.

I began to meet others with rainbows and they were so proud;

They faced up to hate and they stood for themselves—they were unbowed.

I yearned to be one of them, radiating colours so bright.

The rainbow inside me began to intensify her light;

Gradually, then suddenly, she appeared, to my delight,

And I stepped out the door and I finally could let it go,

And I learned and I sang for the first time my soul song aloud,

And I opened the wings of my rainbow and then I took flight.

 

09 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 9 - It's All One

Like water and wet, my head and heart

Cannot be separated.

I think, therefore I feel, therefore I think

Therefore I feel.

It’s all one.

Get out of my head and into my heart?

I’m in both,

I’m always in both.


08 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 8 - Open the Doors

Open up the doors and beat the drums,

Fling wide the gates and tear down every wall,

And let the music play for all to hear.

No one is refused for all means all.


The church was meant to be an open door

That all may come and find that boundless love,

But we have lost the plot along the way,

Forgotten love is love is love is love.


Oh God, please help us turn back toward You,

Repent of pride and selfishness and fear,

Repent of hating those we think are gross:

The poor, the foreigner, the sick, the queer.


Remind us that You stand along with them;

Upon the door You knock with steady hand,

So patient, though we’ve locked ourselves inside;

You wait for us, You ask, You don’t demand.


We’ve hoarded all the talents that You gave

And stashed our lights beneath a bushel box,

We push away the world You came to save,

We praise and pat ourselves upon the back.


Open wide the doors and breach the gates;

Go out into the world and love them all;

Return to You Who called us by Your Name;

Remember it was for the world You came.

 

07 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 7 - The Archer

Image by Paul Barlow from Pixabay


I feel like I am bent so I might break;

I’m pulled so far in both directions, stretched;

The tension in my body and my soul

Creates a deep abiding inner ache.


With every pleasure and with each heartbreak,

I learn and grow and find more of myself,

And when I’m strained ‘til I can take no more,

I feel like I am bent so I might break.


The Archer draws the bow—Their hands don’t shake—

And aims me at my goal and I draw breath;

I see the target waiting there for me

And, flying true, the trophy I will take.


Now, all my sweat and strain will terminate,

And all that I’ve endured will be worthwhile,

For everything has brought me to this fate.


06 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 6 - I Am a Writer

I dreamed of growing up to be

Something in creativity,

To write fiction and poetry,

To live carefree, to live carefree.


They said I wasn’t practical,

My dream was truly fanciful,

And it was even laughable,

And magical, just magical.


But I find magic all around:

In maples red and golden crowned,

In birds and streams, deep underground,

Nature astounds, Nature astounds.


It doesn’t matter what I do;

I am a writer, through and through.

My nine-to-five is not my truth. I always knew, I always knew.


05 October 2020

OctPoWriMo 5 - This Is Me

I reach inside and find something I can use.

Sometimes it tries to hide and I must seduce

It out of the shadows and into the light:

Exposed and naked, and yet so strong and bright.

This is me; I am a rainbow and I dance

To the beat of my drum. So I take a chance

And I use the pieces of my heart as tools

As paint and brushes, as clay, and I make jewels.

My soul is the pen and the colour, the stain.

I sit at my desk and I open a vein,

I release my wings from out of their cage,

And I pour out my heart all over the page.


Through poetry and truth I learn how to fly;

I learn how to stretch my wings toward the sky.

They are beautiful and delicate and strong;

They lift me up and carry me on a song.

I was taught that flying was obscene and lewd

That flaunting my own freedom was quite rude,

But how can those still in prison ever know

They also can break away? So I will show

Them how. I leap into the sky and I soar.

Come follow me; you deserve to ask for more;

Cast off your chains and bonds, and cast off your fear;

Step out into the sunshine, so pure and clear.


I built myself of stories and poetry;

Words are puzzle pieces to compose the key.

I forged the melody, ignited the beat

Until each part came into place to complete

The portrait of who I am and who I’ll be.

Though sometimes it seems two pieces don’t agree,

It’s all a muddle, but it falls into sync

And I contain multitudes within a blink.

I am a lover and I am a fighter;

I am an artist and I am a writer;

I am a fool and I am educated; I am a work of art that I created.