Tag Archives: poetry

What I’m Currently Working on

Currently, I am one day away(as of April 27th) from the last day of my last two courses at SNHU, Advanced Creative Writing and Popular Culture, instructed by Professor Molly Sutton Kiefer and Phillip Wagner. As always, to follow my progression or what I am doing, you can head over to the Works in Progress Page or follow the Facebook Page where I post updates and share fun tidbits daily.

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This month, keeping the theme of reflection, I am going to share my own work in this section. One piece is from the start of my college journey, and another represents the end of my college journey.

  All The Blue Things 

Tonight, Dani was finally going to put an end to the constant object of his maddening mind. Blue, blue, nothing but blue in a continual loop in his head for over ten years ever since he first saw it.  

It was one of his earliest memories as he was startled awake one night by an intruder like the world had never seen. Dani himself first thought himself to be having a nightmare. What he saw stumbling and fumbling around his room looked like an exaggerated character from one of his favorite TV shows.  

The creature had to hunch over to fit in Dani’s small bedroom; however, it was thin enough it didn’t seem to be too uncomfortable. With its giant hands and feet, it crawled around in search of something, which Dani found odd since it was in his room. 

 Suddenly the Monster roared, only it wasn’t a furious noise, more like a boisterous chuckle. At a closer vantage point, Dani could see the creature was extremely hairy with untamable blue fur all over it except for its hands and feet, as well as three sections on its face for its large bulbous eyes and a small green buttoned nose. 

 An outstretched mouth began to salivate as the Monster stared at Dani’s favorite teddy bear. As if the moment couldn’t get even more unbelievable, the beast spoke. 

“Blue,”  

it mumbled out through the gross amount of fur and saliva. Referencing the color of the teddy bear, it began to open its mouth wider as it slowly leaned towards the stuffed animal as if it was going to eat it. 

“No! That’s mine!” the young Dani loudly muttered out. 

The Monster stopped what it was doing and turned its attention to Dani. 

“Give it!” 

Dani proclaimed, to which the Monster tilted its head then said, 

“Mo Monster love blue.” 

Then just like that, he tossed the blue teddy bear in his mouth, letting out a disgusting loud burp afterward to show its satisfaction. 

“Yummy blue!” Mo announced before escaping away out of Dani’s bedroom window. 

Now fifteen years old, Dani was an odd young man due to his obsession with Mo Monster. Gone were the days of having friends. Most of the kids who grew up with him had given up on him. His parents had even given up on trying to have him be an ‘ordinary’ kid. At one point, they had him go to a therapist, but after a while, even the professional gave up. 

 Dani could care less about his well-being and what people thought. He would focus on all of that after he captured Mo Monster.  

Dani learned a little more about the bizarre blue beast throughout the years each time it came lurking. After the first couple of times, Dani realized Mo would leave only after consuming a blue object, much like his once blue teddy bear. Dani would use all of it to finally trap the Monster as his prize. 

 Knowing tonight was the night Mo always visited ever since that fateful night so long ago now. He waited till his parents left for their date night, so the house was all his, so he used every inch to his exposure of entrapping his mischievous enemy.  

Piling various blue things right in the middle of the largest area in the house, the family room. He had acquired a snare trap that was discretely hidden near the alluring pile that would string him up by his ginormous feet so he could not run. 

 Of course, Mo wouldn’t just come while Dani was obviously waiting for him, so he would need to go about the night as if it was any other and wait till the Monster arrived. While pretending to be asleep, he heard a loud ruckus he hoped was a tied-up monster.  

Dangling by his feet, trying to get out of the snare, was the enormous blue and fuzzy wide-eyed Monster known as Mo.  

The moment should’ve been the crowning achievement of Danis’ life, but looking at his rival now, he couldn’t help to see a metaphorical representation of what his own life had become.  

Mo Monsters’ whole life was chasing one thing over and over with no real purpose. Seeing that he was doing the same, Dani released the Monster, who was never seen again. 

Whispers in the Wind

The city buzzes around me, a whirlwind of noise and chaos. In the midst of it all, I feel like a ghost wandering through a world that no longer reconizes me. My name is Maya Dawson, a poet by passion, a lost soul by circumstance. The words that used to flow so effortlessly from my pen have dried up, leaving me hollow and adrift. 

On this particularly bleak afternoon, I find myself in a rundown cafe on the outskirts of the city. The smell of stale coffee and cigarette smoke hangs heavy in the atmosphere as I sit alone at a table, staring blankly at the empty pages of my poetry notebook.  

Just then a voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts—a voice belonging to an old man with the kindest eyes and gentleness of smiles. 

“I’ve been watching you, Maya,” the old man says, his voice soft in tone but filled with the utmost certainty. “I can see the storm raging within you, the words trapped in your heart, desperate to be set free.” His words echo throughout me, stirring something long dormant deep inside. 

Eli, as the old man introduces himself soon, thereafter, becomes a rather steadfast presence in my life over time. He leads me to a hidden garden tucked away from the rest of the world, a sanctuary of silence and solitude. It is there, surrounded by lush greenery and the sweet scent of flowers, I feel a whisper of something—something greater than myself. 

As the days turn into weeks, Eli becomes a mentor of sorts to me, guiding me through the labyrinth of my own soul. He encourages me to confront my greatest fears, to embrace all of my doubts, and to ultimately give voice against the shadows that haunt me. Through his patient wisdom, I begin to see a glimmer of light at the end of my voiceless tunnel. 

One night, under a canopy of stars, I find myself alone in the hidden garden, the weight of the world heavy on my shoulders. With a trembling hand, I pick up my trusty old pen and begin to write at long last in my wordless book for poems. They come slowly at first, like a hesitant whisper, but then the words finally flow like a torrent of emotion and truth. 

In this moment of complete vulnerability, I close my eyes and whisper out my deepest sorrows as well as my happiest joys to the wind, letting my written word become spoken to perhaps the heavens above. 

 “ I do not want to go to war   

 with myself   

   with my identity   

 but I have always struggled    

with the sense of self    

 the sense   

 of me   

 The fear is to unlock the cage to let it be free to only know what not to do  

   The uncertainty that the decision would be a guaranteed benefit to me  

   But what if the long turn of hide and seek is the real regret  

   and only thing that will come with guilt once  

 I come face to face with death  

   Is the fight worth standing up for  

 or should I fall and start anew  

 What really am I fighting  

  if   

 I am constantly questioning   

  Am I afraid that these thoughts aren’t me  

   or am I actually terrified to truly come out of my shell  

 and be the butterfly  

 I was always meant to be.” 

I feel a sense real release—of true peace—washing over me like a cleansing rain. 

 And then, to my utter surprise, and amazement, I hear my very words echoing back to me through the gentle breeze as the wind rustles through the nearby leaves causing me to weep. 

As the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon of the garden that following morning, Eli appears beside me as I calmly awake my pen and notebook still clutched and open in my hands and dry tears adorned down my cheeks. His eyes are filled with a quite knowing as he says with that gentle caress of his old smile to me, “You have found your voice, Maya. You have spoken to God, and He has heard you.”  

In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the warmth of Eli’s kind presence, I realize that the key to finding myself was hidden within me all along. 

Poem for the Month

Following the same sentiments as above in the theme of this month’s theme of reflection, I will share a poem from the beginning of my college journey and a more recent one.

Mother’s Eyes

She sits waiting for me to wake from death 

Doctor’s all business, it’s just work, 

still, Mother watches over me. 

waiting for the slightest movement or jerk 

 to welcome me back so lovingly 

That she does as I finally wake. 

overwhelming me with her brown eyes, hurt but 

loving. I instantly felt my heart break 

her unconditional love hitting my gut. 

Mothers’ eyes told me I was loved, and I 

could continue on with her by my side. 

Conversations with the Everlasting 

We talk to people, friends, family  

We talk to pets, cars, and the TV screen  

But some find it hard to do the same with God  

In prayer  

We shout up at the sky,   

tell the rain to come again another day  

Yell at red lights to turn green  

Yet still somehow some find it difficult to speak  

To God