What’s your origin story?

reflection: perhaps if I write the reflection first the poem will come. I saw the topic two days ago and thought Yay, piece of cake and Yay a happy one. I have walked so many dark roads of late responding to these challenges. Digging through the archives of 50 plus years of writing trying to refresh, write new, be interesting, truthful… I am exhausted and exhilarated in the same moment. And a little addicted perhaps to the “penny for your thoughts” operating model of this platform. This will be filed under “Screams of Conciseness”

The poem does not come for…

She wore a black velvet gown
long and shimmering in the dusky light
filtered through the tall polarized windows
too pale skin looked sallow in the limited uv spectrum
the dress looked nearly blue, nearly green, and almost purple
— walking through the room smiling at the guests.

Plush black skin of velvet parted over hip bones’ ridge
calling attention to her tiny tiny frame.
arms looked lost in the long swag of blackness engulfing her. …

never been a cow,
blindly walking behind you
the path too narrow

never been a sheep
no herd-ness to let go of
the crowd moves, not me

nor zebra neither
uniqueness but not really
mirage of safety

herd mentality
claiming to know best of all
never welcomed me

was it really choice
or lack of invitation
this herd rejection

no need to let go
of something I never owned
a need to conform

but must learn to feel
compassion for those who need
herd conformity

Reflection on poetic process:

Ironically I choose a poem style that forces extreme conformity to a 5–7–5 syllable pattern…

warning a bit raw: no authors damaged in the writing of this piece

If the center is the void
the vast emptiness
does it call out to be filled?

Nature abhors a void
okay vacuum
but what’s the difference?
both a space with no air.

Is the call of the void
as defined by the urban dictionary
an insane desire of my unconsciousness?

Does the void fill my conscious mind
with images of destruction, death and more questions?

I have been at the edge, seduced by the promises in the void.

I have seen my car plummet off the hi-lo bridge into the murky waters of the Maumee below as if it were…

Sunflowers have turned their cheery faces toward the sun for more than 4000 years. This feature of the sunflower is called phototropism-bending toward the light. I delight in watching the sunflowers swivel their magnificent faces toward the sun when spending an entire day tending the garden.

The Sunflower (Helianthus annuus L.) in it’s familiar shape and form popped up around 4500 years ago. Sources disagree on when, but are confident about where, the western regions of North America in the current states of Arizona and New Mexico. …