Category
Poem

Shimmer

These corvid lessons prove themselves needed.

The wherewithal to admire for a shine and a glimmer,
Value granted in the act of appreciation,
As an act of prayer.
Pecking out silver linings 
Amongst stormclouds and razer wire;
To build a season of lilac and iron.
Registration photo of Michele LeNoir for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

powell’s wheezy snooper nudge

glow of glass speaks from long necks of history,
wheezy snooper nudge, on her pedestal
against a tall glass menagerie–radiant light
filtered through, brilliance of oranges, blues,
teals, clear glass. murrini patterns of sky– she radiates
a sunrise? a voice– stephen rolfe powell’s? urges–
let color flow over you. and so i do– then
take a quarter turn. she burns deeper, now a sunset?
do i dare another turn? yes, now from sky-soar
to deep-sea swim, creatures glow, turn round,
melt into ocean-worlds. what will happen
at next turn? will the heavens open up in hues
of golden blues? my heart races—
this thorough-bred glass, organic once
in artists’ hands lives on her own. i step back.
my eyes follow her neck. into sand? into clouds?
search for life on other planets? or search souls?
i stop, still myself, sink in, colors flowing, now–
within.

Registration photo of Samar Jade for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Do you get your period during a genocide?

Does the body take a pause? 

Does it realize there may be no point 
In running through that cycle 
When you cannot remember your last meal?

Or that the ringing in your ears
Is actually a perpetual scream

That the night is not the terror
Or that a maxi pad has become an indecent luxury
When your body’s driving force is to survive?

Does it tuck away its dreams for the living away with the ever rising number of the dead?  

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Registration photo of carolyn Pennington for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Connection

Geyer 
at Yellowstone
breathed 
Out its breath
Caressing all
Of me
In a cotton like bath
Leaving a 
Lingering perfume
In my nostrils…
Like unto my
Grandma’s sulfer
well water. 

Registration photo of Sunny for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Save-A-Lot Soda

Tired, Alone, Resigned,
Something so biologically wrong that one can never believe it happened
Shaking hands, but a strong grip
The small blue and red capsules were so appealing, but oh, so, wrong
A temptation I do not have the will to resist
One goes down with a quick swig of cheap cola
The one bought in Save-A-Lot that is all high fructose corn syrup and caffenation,
The sickly sweet caramel that does nothing to help my roaring nervesIt is familiar and a welcome respite as 170 calories that will amount to nothing to a carcass
In quick succession, a handful, then two are swallowed,
NO, NO, NO
A tingle runs up my throat, and retching shortly follows, it does not deter
Yes
Another hand full, another chug of lukewarm soda down my unwilling throat,
Tears fall, music becomes static, paper is prepared, yet for the first time, words fail,
Sleep overcomes, I succumb
Dreamless sleep and aching muscles
Eventually, my eyes drift open, still caught in the sleep’s haze, yet not another moment is spared before the contents of my stomach artfully paint my damp pillows,
Dreary-eyed, I keep quiet, my secret, and only mine

Did you know that stomach acid is yellow?
A dark, putrid color, one perfectly attuned to my feelings
No pills come up, not like last time, I think
Maybe it will end
I sit watching, waiting, vomiting every few minutes,
Quick, that’s what they said
lies
A voice rages,
TELL, TELL, TELL
A blur,
It is 3 am,
My mother knows, and she is upset,
Not because of my rapidly approaching demise,
But that she will be up all night,
She complains, she vents, she yowls her annoyance,
My life is nothing but an inconvenience,
Bright stars twinkle overhead,
With any luck I will join them soon,
A young nurse is outside the ER, lingering as if waiting for me, but I know she is not
My mother groans from the car,“…Tylenol Overdose..”
Yes, an overdose, one that has worked,
She grabs my hand and whispers reassurances,
It is too late for soft words to save me now,
My liver is failing, the beeping slows
That clean antiseptic smell wafts through the air, and with it a stark realization hits
I am dying
 I… am dying       
  I….AM…..DYING.              
My veins burn hot until a needle pierces my clammy flesh,
Cool medicine flushes out the burn and brings with it a silenced calm,
My brain is too fuzzy, too foggy for much to come through,
Only broken words and blinding smiles,
I still feel like I’m dying,
Yet I cannot speak, my mouth is stuffed with cotton,
A prisoner of soul, trapped in a cage of bones and a tarp of flesh,
The world did not stop, I am still here,
I may wish for that cathartic release,
I may long for it,
But I am not selfish, I will save others when I cannot do the same for myself
I will resist and fight tooth and nail for, not me, but another I will guard their hearts, even if it means I will wake up tomorrow
I will give each a piece of my mind, and with them, I will share my Save-A-lot Soda

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Registration photo of Christina Joy for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Desire, received:

If you hunger for 

me, let yourself feel that some 
before the tasting.
 
Like celestial 
orbs, there’s no devouring me 
in just one mouthful. 
 
I am best savoured 
with a slow drink; on soft tongue 
a languid banquet. 

Registration photo of N. D for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

untitled

 I don’t need to mend my shattered heart.
 There is beauty in the broken, purpose for the pain.
 And as grief fades softly into the present day
 I am stuck by the realisation

 I have never felt more alive

Category
Poem

NINE DAYS

Nine days
Of no responsibility
Except to myself

Nine days
Absorption of
New sounds, sights and smells

Nine days
Of attempting to
Speak and understand a different language

Nine days
1500 miles in a car
Thinking new thoughts, jettisoning old ones

Nine days
9 hours at sea
In calm, chop and rain

Nine days
Awash in negative ions
Toes in the sand

Nine days
And I’ve been burnished
And shine with a new luster
Registration photo of Victoria Woolf Bailey for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Newborns

In woods I thought I saw chickens,
golden feathers, low to the ground hens.

Slowly I see them take another form
shape shifting in the shadows.

Nearby doe watches twin fawns come to life
struggle to stand, spindley legs.

Registration photo of Madison Miller for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Tuesdays in my Therapist’s Office

I unfocus my eyes, hold my breath, and shove down the grimy truth.

I can not seem to find the valve to release what some part of me knows.

I don’t muster up the courage to search.

I pull armor down over my most vulnerable parts, tucking away all the soft white underbelly of me.