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Not a Poem – How’s Your January Been??

/ Ajmorse / 1 Comment

January has just been one big suck-fest. Anyone with me?

I have a poem I’ve been working on, but instead of coming together like things usually do, pulling the words out for this one is like trying to pull blood from a stone.

I am on the struggle bus. Physically. Mentally. Creatively. I long for sunny days. And warmth.

I hope everyone else is doing better than me. If you’ve kept up with this blog and my poetry book, you’ll know that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) hits me big every year. This past month, more so than others.

I take comfort in my light therapy, friends, comedy, and the dogs.

I don’t have anything creative for you today. I’m sorry. But here’s a few dog pics, because dogs are awesome and cute. Bowl is life. ❤️😆 love them. (The chocolate is Koda; the golden, Teddy.)

Walking The Dogs On a Snowy Evening

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Whose yard is this? The dogs. (I know)
They both like it covered with snow
And lake-like puddles on the ground
And squishy grass that’s hard to mow

They will chew their sticks to the sound
Of wind blowing their ears around
With snow that bites with winter’s chill
They chew, oh — another stick found!

And the dogs always get a thrill
Smelling bunnies and things to kill
Noses to the ground, at my side
They sniff until the world grows still

The yard is icy, cold and wide
And I continue to abide
Please, it is time to go inside
Please, it is time to go inside

This poem is inspired by Robert Frost’s Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening, but obviously with a less serious and sillier theme. I had the pattern of this poem in my head while out walking the dog one evening and I thought it might be fun to play around.

Wishing everyone a meaningful Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

If you’ve liked what you’ve read, check out my poetry book, Walking in Cemeteries available for purchase here.

Just a Pinch

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Every month, a woman sheds the lining of her uterus

Except, mine is scraping through me
like a sweater-rake that claws at those scratchy balls of wool
I’m shedding barbed wire and lava
Feeling red hot and deflated

Men laugh at a woman’s period
Think we’re over-exaggerating
Like that small-pinched-lie you’re told you’ll feel during a procedure

Why can’t we be honest about a woman’s pain

A woman feels pain as easy as a man succeeds
In this patriarchal society
Where a woman just bleeds
And bleeds
And bleeds

If you’ve liked what you’ve read, check out my poetry book Walking in Cemeteries available for purchase here.

tablecloth queen

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i moved a table into the kitchen
covered it with a tablecloth
and thought, this feels right
realizing later
that grandma covered her kitchen table

how i remember her white, wrinkled fingers
reaching for the mayonnaise
or ‘dressing’ as she called it
her fingers etched with hard work and mischief
how we’d sit on a Saturday afternoon and eat lunch
just sandwiches, chips, and pickles
and it felt like everything in life was alright

i eat my sandwich now and remember her
Christmas is gone, and she is too
but the table remains

and i sit here at my tableclothed table
eating my pickle
feeling like a queen

and honoring one

Happy New Year!! 🥳

If you’ve liked what you’ve read, check out my poetry book Walking in Cemeteries available for purchase here.

Unsure

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on campus
walking through a crowd of people
I still feel like that same nerdy girl
who didn’t know how to talk to ppl
who felt lost on the way to class
who couldn’t just be. normal.

except
I pay my own bills now
I’ve seen the Grand Canyon
and I’ve had sex

does it matter that I’m an adult
and was back then, too

but I still feel seventeen

who actually feels their age?
the president?

hah.

Thank God High School is Over

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It’s amazing how a cafeteria smell
Will instantly take you back
The way it smells like broccoli cheddar soup. Like cheese but with a funk
Only 20 seconds
And the anxiety flashes back
High school anxiety. And middle school anxiety.
Standing in line forever to get food
If you kept your head down, the kids that were lewd, that were cruel, left you alone, rushing to eat
Difficult to swallow when your heart is pounding

Choking down chicken and gravy
That sticks to your throat like plaster
Or a doughy pizza that’s okay. Thank God for Pepperoni

Then you got the years Michelle Obama tried to make us eat healthy, and everything palatable (fries and cookies) were taken away and replaced my wheat rolls that looked and tasted like cardboard
What will we eat now?

It was okay with friends
It was safe there
Laughing and creating together
But on my own, I felt anxiety about a crowd
A teenage boy loves an easy mark
Especially someone so gullible
Innocent, naive, and unaware of the world

A 16 year old should have been more aware
Should have been not so afraid
I didn’t know how to be
Every day was fight or flight
And mom would be instantly there. To make it all better

Unlucky

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Said the elk to the zebra, “It just isn’t right that I have the horns, and you have the stripes.”

Said the zebra to the bear, “I think it is wrong that I am so thin, and you are so strong.”

Said the bear to the hippo, “It must be quite fun to stay in the water and out of the sun.”

Said the hippo to the fish, “I wish I was free, to swim in the ocean and live in the sea.”

Said the fish when I caught him, “This just isn’t fair! I wish I was an elk, a zebra, a hippo, or a bear!”

For some time now, I’ve been considering writing a poetry book for children. 🤔🤔 Hmm.

For more poems from me, check out my poetry book, Walking in Cemeteries, now available on Amazon: https://a.co/d/72YgJ1O

Dog Love

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dogs tell tales
like humans do
scratch an ear
steal a shoe

a stolen slipper
means, “I missed you”
a sock in mouth
means “hello,” too

love is the language
that dogs speak
except they say it
with a toy that squeaks

or slobbery kisses,
with head on your thigh
hands in warm fur
a deep, contented sigh

and muddy paw prints
on the kitchen floor
nose prints on the window
scratching the bathroom door

a minute is an hour
when you’re gone away
because they love us
every. single. day.

If you liked what you read, considering following me on Instagram @ajmorse_writes and follow my Facebook page A. J. Morse. My poetry book Walking in Cemeteries is available on Amazon here: https://a.co/d/cAsZUxa

And…because we love our two buds…some pics below! We recently got a new golden retriever puppy. Meet Teddy! You can follow them both on instagram @kodabear_and_teddy