Saturday, April 3, 2010

NaPoWriMo #3 Scary poem


Scary, trying to play catch up
when I haven't written anything in so long
I'm dreaming of ex-lovers ignoring me on the streets.
I woke this morning and wondered why
he didn't see me, or why he shunned me.
After all, I was the one who was wronged.
And the Catholic guilt dressed me in skins
because I had abandoned my writing
the way he had abandoned me,
the way we abandoned the child
at the altar of the sacrificial surgeon.
Perhaps I should have held up my bloodied hands
and beseeched an older god.
But he was deaf and mute as well as blind
his current woman, old an haggard as he,
followed ten paces behind.
I begged her to tell him hello
but she was loyal, I was the enemy.
What was I to her? I wanted to say:
What does it matter? We all grow old
and lose our way at the end of the camino.



napowrimo #3: scared yet?

Write about something that scares you. It could be tarantulas or your significant other cheating on you or an existential fear of the unknown so long as it unsettles you. Describe it in the most vivid language possible!

Sometimes by articulating our fears, we strip them of their power. (But don’t go too far! A little fear is good to have.)

1 comment:

Glenn Ingersoll said...

Hm. Creepy poem.

I'm doing a haiku series over at my blog.