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Phoenix Dec 2015
On my way
       to recovery
              I hit bumps
                     I crossed chasms
                           I defeated my monsters
                     as they defeated me
       I took two steps forward
and three steps back
       but recovery isn't always positive.
                            I have spent my fair share
                                                              of crying
                                                   of drinking
                                                          of hating
                                                               Hating me
                                                 Hating my family
                                    Hating my decisions
                   but I can see the finish line
        There is just one more leap
             but it is my biggest.
                   Apologizing and forgiving
                                    I hope that one day
                                   soon
                                    I can do just that.
                      But until then,
I will take a water break.
Okay, this was too fun.
I just want to say: Mom, I am sorry for all the hell I have put you through and the hell that I will put you through. I love you so much.
Jason, I want to forgive, but I will never forget what has happened. I hope we can still be friends. I will never be your daughter again though. Too much has happened. But I want you walking down the isle with me. I want you to meet my boyfriend, be a grandpa and be like a dad. What you did was not being a dad. That was a monster and I know you are better than that.
Okay, now that that is over (urg) the prompt was Trails and Paths. Think about trails and paths, real and/or imagined that you have traveled or would like to travel. Imagine those trails that loom large – the Pacific Crest Trail, the Appalachian Trail, the Camino, and imagine those that loom close and personal – a path to recovery, a path to a career goal, a path to a poem, a path toward…whatever we all take paths toward. Write a poem. If you’d like a parameter, make your poem look path-like – a few words on each line perhaps; a long, skinny poem perhaps; playing with spacing
Phoenix Dec 2015
Macaroni and cheese,
It will never cook for me,
It is a pimple on the face of humanity

The water is too watery,
The fire is too firey
The cheese is never too cheesy

Macaroni is the goal that I can never reach
It is the bird that will not screech
I think I want some peach.

Peach cobbler
Always such a blunder…
Are you overcooked-- or under?
Write a poem about cooking or baking -- something delicious, something that didn't turn out, something burned, something better than expected, something simple, something beyond reason, a surprise, a treat, an old favorite, a brand-new dish.

I am so hungry, it isn't even funny anymore. Include at least three metaphors and/or similes in a poem no longer than 15 lines. (Keep in mind that your poem is about the creation of the dish itself.)
Phoenix Dec 2015
Kiss me,
love me,
Don't leave me.

Hold me tight,
Be my light,
Cuz you're so bright!
Yeah...uhh...don't ask. Just, don't. The prompt was : Write a poem about kissing or about a kiss. No word in the poem can be more than one syllable.
It isn't too late to join! You can write poetry that ***** or rocks (Or both) and you don't turn it in! info@mostpoetry.org
Phoenix Dec 2015
The full moon haunts me,
it only reminds me of those nights:

The nights that I would sit by my bed,
doors locked and window drapes open.
I would hold the box cutter in one hand and the codeine in the other.
The tears would roll down my face.
The screaming downstairs never stopping.

Wait.

It stopped.
Now there is sobbing and there are sirens.
But the sirens aren't for me,
they belong to the poor woman downstairs.
She obviously didn't see the icicles outside,
with their cold warnings.
Or the man on his porch,
preaching the devil to all that entered my house.

Silly girl,
the man on the moon isn't as kind as he seems.
He loves to come out for death, and death only.
Wow...this is bad...even for me...*goes and dies* I haven't been able to write poetry recently...oh well. So, here is #4 and now I must do 5-7. UGGHHHH...The prompt for this was:
Here is the painting "Moon Madness" (tempura, 1982) by Andrew Wyeth. Write a poem.
(If the image doesn't come through here, you can type 'moon madness wyeth' into Google and a bunch of images will come up.)
Phoenix Dec 2015
My life,
My future,
My world.

What does my future hold?
He will be there,
holding my hand
as we walk to the park.
He will be there,
meeting my mom and step-dad
for the first time.
He will be there,
cradling me
as I cry about the loss of my dad.

He will stand,
at that isle
thinking about how beautiful I am.
He will stand,
right by my bed
feeding me chicken noodle soup.
He will stand,
at the desk
and fill out paperwork to adopt our first child.

He will hold my hand,
love me as I love him,
and he WILL

be my future.
Today is technically supposed to be #4 but I forgot to do #3 so there will be two uploads today! The prompt was, and I quote, What do you imagine for your/our future? Too hot? Too cold? Too apocalyptic? Pretty much the same? Without bananas? With a true love? Without a love? With flying cars? On the planet Mars? In retirement? Pandemic? At the beach? A cure for the common cold? World peace? Too full of deviled eggs?  To join email info@mostpoetry.org and say something along the lines of "Add me to the poetry challenge please!!!!" I think you can still join! There are only 30 prompts, so spread the word fast!!

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