The Dreaded Block

Three different notebooks and not one phrase
a writer dreads these types of days
Before too long your heart is racing
From the mundane future you could be facing
You curse at songs and shun your books
The trees are barren, that you once shook
But then a seed or maybe half
You start to write, you start to laugh
and with relief you're off and running
to show the world your heart and cunning

National Poetry Month Part 2

April 7th:
The teeth that grit
That jaw that sets
A heart forgives
But ne’er forgets

April 8th:
A day that holds unbridled joy
An end that makes beginnings
There’s finally time to rest your mind
And celebrate your winnings

April 9th:
When you are crying for one you miss
Be sure to count your tears
Let each recall a moment of joy
You felt when they were near

April 10th:
If bending down to touch your toes
Is something you can’t fathom
At least be thankful of the fact
That you even have them

April 11th:
When taking in a wonder
Our eyes are very clever
They blink so we’re reminded
That nothing lasts forever

April 12th:
His love is bigger than my sorrow
His joy is bigger than my pain
His laughter is a voice that bellows
Love’s most perfect of its refrains

Royalty

A dance between ink and inspiration The frivolity flows with great consternation The music of thought and the rhythm of feeling The worlds you create when you stare at the ceiling The unchained emotions, the shackles of grammar Anger through whispers and joy as a hammer The mind chases thoughts as they hide and escape The pain as entity born from a scrape Some demons, some angels and all in between living fully fleshed lives with their artist as queen