Stars and Snowflakes

The Neighborhood

Smoky skies
Songs on repeat
Cracks in the pavement
Holes in the street
Broken plastic playsets
In weed-filled backyards
Shaky folding tables
Abandoned playing cards
Days become years
Time passes too fast
Too many generations
Trapped by the past



So, each April I publish a poem a day for National Poetry month.  I fell asleep yesterday before I could, so according to my unwritten rule, it’s time to make a non-fiction post on this blog.  Not to explain myself or anything like that, just because I’ve been meaning to, and I set up the stipulation in my head that if I ever missed a day, I had to make this post the next day.

Several of my poems this month have had a similar theme, that of transitioning and starting something new.  At the beginning of this past week, I started a new job.  Before that, I had been working part time in retail (a job I was grateful for, and with some really great people.  I was so lucky to have had the job experience that I had there), and my new job is full time, with benefits.  I went from working a few minutes’ drive from my house, a few days a week, to Monday-Friday in a city that is nearly an hour away by train.  It’s a new adventure, and I’m so excited, but it has been beyond exhausting.  I’ve been going to sleep at 9:30, and my daily reminder to write a poem for the day is set for 9…

Anyway, this is essentially my first real job.  It’s in a field I have no experience in, so there’s a lot to learn, but I feel so proud of myself as I start to get the hang of things.  With this job, I really feel like my life is finally beginning (I say finally because I just turned 24 and have been out of college for 2 years).  Hopefully this summer I can find an apartment and move out on my own.  Things are happening for me.

I missed posting yesterday, so I’ll try to post an extra poem this weekend so I can at least hit 30 this month.  Thanks for reading this, and hey, if you have any other questions about anything, feel free to ask them!  I’m pretty open.


Now is the time,
Not in a moment,
Not soon or later or eventually.
Now is the time
For anything that has been
Or will be.
Now is the time
To bring things to a close,
To make peace
With the path that you chose.
Or else,
Now is the time
To change it all,
To make the leap
And fly
Or fall.

Original Skin

Inner peace is a blessing,
Granted or won.
It’s a pipe dream for some.
With luck, it could become
Part of our fabric,
Woven in,
And we might wear the calm
As if
It’s our original skin.


With a new place
Comes the opportunity
To be
A newer me,
To uncover
Another layer
Of identity
And discover
More facets
Of who I’m meant to be.


Has never been
A fan of me,
With my refusal
To follow along,
To jump at its call,
Or dance to its song.
But lately
It sounds sweeter,
Like a tune that could play
In the background
Of my day.


A little bitter
Mostly sweet
This day
Of my retreat
From a blessed lesson
To the start of my life.

Despite poor prose,
I managed to tell
Those who needed to hear
What I needed to say,
And despite clear skies,
Cloudy eyes
Brought unplanned rain
To my farewell.


The past has demons in it
That aren’t demons at all,
Just missed words
And misunderstandings
That caused me to call
Those bridges burned
And friendships fractured
Beyond the point
Of no return.


We can let life
Act upon us,
Melt us away,
Like Summer melts ice pops
Onto pavement,
Or the Sun melts Winter into Spring.
Fear melts into excitement,
Into thrill, rush,
And back to fear.
Studio lights
Melt dreamers
Into extras.
Time melts memory,
And certainty
Until what we stood for
Mixes with who we used to be
Down the drain.

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