April Recap
Welcome back to the Recap, where I share with you my favorite pieces of the month. April showers bring May flowers, while the rain gives writers more time to write. Without further ado, here are my favorite poems.
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Confession
I feel like I am out of poetry.
Mind numb from body’s gravity,
pulling me down with leadened bones
the ink well of veins dried from the drought,
depriving the witch of her birthright.
Have I gone insane now? Am I in the mundane now?
I feel like I am out of poetry and I am caged where I used to be free.
Will tomorrow replace my endless sorrow?
If I can’t write, I will mourn me.
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4/8/24
Illuminate how the Moon does during the eclipse,
her marred body Midas touched for a moment as the Sun delves into her shape,
holding her with his his flared hands that splinter from her ice skin.
He notes how her eyes lighten in his light,
their gravitational pull getting stronger as she leans into him,
hushing the world with their shadow
suspending life with their premature dusk
twisting the veils of night and day together
from the entanglement of their constellation,
revealing the portal door to Infinity,
carried away with almost inciting rapture,
they depart with the thought of rushing back into their embrace,
disregarding apocalypse to feel their cells again.
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Dream Rich
I am poor in my pocket but not in my dreams,
rooted to reality wings straining for translucent things,
pulling me up by my shoulders toward the light of a maybe -
that is a bulb just going out on me.
Why is there a price tag on what I want to be?
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Luma
We were called, “moth soft,”
made of cellophane and rust,
wasps worn down by jars and hands ignorant to women’s venom.
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The Saint of Silly Things
The Lord is laughing at me, the Saint of Silly Things.
True to her name, she’s a girl who believes that she can play this game of Life
with only the experience of a mortal.
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I turned 29 in April, and I think I should know everything, but I do not. I am still learning the same old thing. I guess its the stubbornness in my horoscope, or the scope that some things you have to learn over and over to understand. Like the necessity of pressure. I was hoping to write more this month because of the buzz #NationalPoetryMonth rings in every year. But I wrote the least amount of pieces this month. Pressure isn’t productive, it’s pressure, it makes you stagnant, it makes you fret. What do you think carbon thinks about when the pressure keeps ruminating on them? Nothing the diamond knows.
So, I hope to take more time with my work, and write for myself. Maybe that will be the theme for May, mindfulness.
Either way, thank you so much for tuning into this post. If you would like to follow my poetry in real time, follow my Instagram @enis.st.sparrow, I would love to have you there.