We interrupted your regularly scheduled
program, to wish you – if you celebrate it –
a Happy New Year.
We interrupted your regularly scheduled
program, to wish you – if you celebrate it –
a Happy New Year.
You were frail in body while I was delicate in mind, yet we curled around and underneath each other trying to provide comfort to one another - because that's what empaths do. You held me as I fell to pieces in your hands, mind ridden and soul overflowing with trauma, pain and anxiety. You held on until I stopped crumbling - not healed, but stable, enough. Then I held you, in your emaciated brittleness, all edges and angles, as you allowed yourself the space to dissolve in my hands, slipping through my fingers - like water down a drain. Somehow we held each other up, held each other together, just barely. Maybe that's what two people do for one another; the simple kindness of - offering safety, compassion, and companionship as we try to weather our way through the shitstorm.
Upon review, I determined this was shit. I deleted it so I wouldn't be a fucking hypocrite. 😉
I woke up on Christmas Eve to the news that Clarendon Publishing will be publishing my poem, October Maple, in their upcoming poetry anthology called Poetica 2. I am but one of many, many poets included in this anthology. So maybe you want to check it out to see some other amazing writers!
Also, this blog is up to 50 followers! Thanks so much to everyone who’s been following me on this crazy little journey. 🙂 ❤
We interrupted your regularly scheduled
program, to wish you – if you celebrate it –
a Merry Christmas.
If you don’t,
then I’ll wish you
Happy Holidays.
xoxo
I think about you late at night,
when I’m trying to fall asleep
which is counterproductive to
relaxation.
.
I think about me stripped
bare beneath you, legs spread
wide in eager welcome and you
inside.
.
There is a feeling of awe
each time you slide into me
and I look down the long length
of you
(to watch).
.
Yet, even though these images
make the vein in my neck throb
I still fall into a deep, peaceful
sleep.
Shit poetry is a lot like Twitter,
expect that with Twitter
you only have 140 characters
to say
nothing at all.
Had I known it was going to be the last time that we would kiss, I would've given it everything I had and.... Bit your fucking lip off.
Good morning everyone!
Since it’s been posted on Facebook I feel it’s ok to announce this here.
As you know, Newington Blue did Volume 1 & 2 of Buk 100 (second volume to be complete before Christmas, if all goes well) but, they’ve announced that they will be publishing two single author chapbooks next year (one prose and one poetry). The wonderful Michael D. Meloan has been chosen for the first chapbook (prose) – of which I’m thrilled to get my hands on – and yours truly has been picked for the second!
I’m blown away by the love and support Newington Blue is showing me. The chapbook will be 40+ poems, accompanied by illustrations. 40+ poems is a lot for any writer – but especially for me who is basically unknown and unpublished. I’m just… overwhelmed with gratitude.
So what does this mean for you?
I have daily poems scheduled until the middle of January. After that, I will be scaling my poems back significantly – probably one per week. I want to take the next two months to focus on writing fresh material for the book (which will be exclusive to it). It’s likely that I will not return to posting daily, and stick to a poem a week.
I am playing with diversifying my content as well – I do have some short stories (kinda) that I am thinking about sharing. So we’ll see.
Thank you all so much for your likes, follows, and beautiful comments. I am so greatful for them all!
I’ll keep you guys informed of what’s going on along the way with the book. 🙂
xoxox
Your filthy minded poet 🙂
I miss you - that's all I wanted to say, the only message I want to send out on the ether. I hope it reaches you, on your little farm atop the hill.