I feel old
like creaky leather
an ancient crone
in freezing weather
tomorrow’s Monday
another battle
snow in the forecast
hear my bones a’ rattle
I feel all dried up
earth turned to dust
like a beat-up car
that’s begun to rust
the world has tipped
and warmth is lost
winter bites with hunger
and drools with frost
I was not made for a world of snow and ice. My feet freeze and I need sunshine. If it weren’t for family, I’d live near a beach somewhere. I hope you are all well.
AJM
#73. Opposites Attract. Write a scene in which two characters play opposites to each other. (from writersdigest.com)
He was like fire. She was like ice. He was open like a flame that wraps everything up in its liquid arms and snaps and picks up. She was like wood that tightens and creaks in the cold. Instead of open arms, she felt herself creeping closed and she couldn’t help it.
It started the night she heard him on that phone call. One minute she was making spaghetti and meat sauce at the stove, the next she was peering around the corner to the other room, trying not be concerned at the hushed voice and the way he bent his head into the phone. Like he was trying to hide who he was talking to.
She told herself it didn’t matter and then the conversation the next day. Before work. Her coffee hadn’t even finished brewing yet.
“I have a project after work, babe. I’ll be late. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry” he had said…like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman. Like he hadn’t been living with one for the last three years. Like he didn’t know that all she would do was worry. Worry about who he was talking to as she opened her locker at work. Like she wouldn’t be thinking about the pink lipstick she saw on his neck that one weekend when she changed out of her scrubs later that day.
Yeah, don’t worry. Well, that would be pretty fucking unlikely.
That night she tells him. As they’re standing next to the microwave. She’s waiting for her dinner to finish cooking. “I’m moving back in with my mother. I’ll take the TV. No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine by myself.”
Hi Friends,
For those of you who have been loyal readers and followers these past years, I appreciate you. As I gather content for my next few poetry book projects, I am going to try something new on here. I won’t be posting as much poetry, but in an effort to keep writing…I’m going to try to write some more prose. Right now, that looks like trying writing prompts…wherever I may find them. Who knows, maybe in the future it will move into something else. Maybe it’ll be something that will stick. Maybe I’ll give up after a few posts of writing prompts and start something else. This feels like an ending of an era for me. But also of something new.
Happy Writing!
~AJM
So…have you ever started a project, and then you lose steam just when you think you’re sailing smoothly along? Yeaah, so that happened. I am still working on this project, but it will not be published at the end of this year.
Unfortunately, work and health and life have gotten in the way, but to be honest, though, I do feel somewhat excited to have a project to focus on in the winter months…if we all happen to survive by then, of course.
To reiterate…
This is a collection of new material from the last few years exploring the ‘what’s been left behind’ from my college years, who I am now, and the joys and struggles of being an adult. There are themes of feminism, mental health, self-doubt… and some silly poems about the weather, of course.
Look for it soon…publish date, TBD. I might also post less poetry content as I get my ideas together, but that’s a maybe. I feel like there is still a lot to say.
In case you missed it, my other poetry book, Walking in Cemeteries, can be found on Amazon here.
the chickens open their beaks
in a silent squawk
feathered bodies pant
melt and puddle
over wood shavings
the young girl pours water
into the tray in the cages corner
“Jessica needs more water”
“I’m so nervous”
“First place, master showman, I can’t believe it”
off in the corner
several family members
wait and melt in a hundred degrees
with love and pride dripping down their foreheads
and flies batting at their knees
when i was little
i had someone tell me
“don’t be so eager to grow up”
i’ve had others judge me
like growing up was a competition
that i would fail at
and while i feel old and young
than i ever did before
it doesn’t change
the sadness that overwhelms me
growing up is over with
being an adult
happens now
and i
don’t
want
it
even my favorite parts
of Summer
can’t will away the feeling
we’re all barreling
towards a cliff
with an obvious end
This project is coming along!
This will be a collection of new material from the last few years exploring the ‘what’s been left behind’ from my college years, who I am now and the joys and struggles of being an adult. There are themes of feminism, mental health, self-doubt…and some silly poems about the weather, of course.
There will be more posts about this project later on in the next few months.
In case you missed it, my other poetry book, Walking in Cemeteries, can be found on Amazon here.
you’re too loud
too abrupt
you finish your sentences
at the end of a question mark
maybe your words
don’t come off
as polite as they should be
you talk too much
maybe
I’m just so sick
of stuffing my personality
down in the dark
where no one can see it
and I’m tired
of being afraid
that I’ll say the wrong thing
I’ll upset someone
they won’t like me
like the stars
that never turn off in the day time
invisible but
always there
and maybe I don’t want to shine always
but I’m sick of turning my light off
so others can, too
I bought a poetry book
about dogs
and all it did
was remind me
how short their lives are
we’ll have several dogs
in our lifetimes
they’ll have several years
if we’re lucky
and it reminded me
we don’t have dogs
do we
they have you
maybe it’s because i pay taxes now
maybe it’s because i understand more about politics
or maybe it’s because i know more about myself
than i ever did before
A. J. Morse 