Poems · writing

Metanoia

My mind speaks volumes

I won’t say a word

(Mama said she’d buy me a mockingbird)

Indentured to sickness

She won’t stand a chance

Bejeweled wings flutter a commonplace dance

(If that mockingbird don’t sing)

A value of equal to or less in stature than

Some thing left to squaller

I’ve muddled it, and,

(Mama said she’d buy me a diamond ring)

For too late I find, I’ve lost peace of mind,

And those thoughts are loud enough to ponder.

writing

I am Sam.

“Where were you last night?” The tears rolling down her face felt like acid burning through his skin.

“Deborah, I know you don’t believe me, but I swear I’m telling the truth.” He watched her put her head in her hands, “I wouldn’t lie to you! Come on, would I make this up?” Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her hands. Her eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at him. “Please. I need you to trust me.”

Deborah stared into her husband’s face a heartbeat more. She sighed, resigning to the fact that she could no longer argue. “Okay. I guess I don’t have any other choice.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “what do we do now?”

Sam took her hand, forever by her side. His eyes glittered, gazing out at the world before them. Out to where he knew they’d find all the answers. “We get those green eggs and ham.”


An extremely silly warm up I wrote a long time ago that still makes me laugh.