Hello, reader! Welcome to Poems that I am Proud of, a collective anthology that features poets and the poems that they are proud of. This edition features art that was shared during the month of June the PROUDEST month of the year! Without further ado, let us dive into the metaphors, haikus, and commas!
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“Anne Boleyn,” by Kate M. Sine (@enis.st.sparrow on IG)
The Sun, as if a comfort,
bore onto her neck, warm on her skin.
*
She smiled at us,
tears rolling down her face,
as she acquiesced her fate.
*
I imagine that she was like a storm
up there, begging to be forgiven.
The sky opened, ready to receive her head like Communion,
and she stood strong, her neck shining in the light.
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The executioner ushered her to the block and I swear, the birds stopped singing, as if waiting to indoctrinate her soul with their wings.
She stepped on his foot, Henry’s harlot,
and apologized, looking to him and asking for mercy,
because the king had none to give his own wife.
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The executioner flinched, the man with the ax,
hesitating, for the first time,
for this would be his only time
touching an immortal in his poor world,
and he nodded and ushered her down,
where we poor people were a breath away from a queen.
*
Birds erupted, undone with the axe swing
and slowly, I watched the storm in Anne’s eyes dissolve,
her excommunicated lips muttering a prayer for relief.
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“Bonnie,” by Donald Fuston (@donaldfuston on IG)
Bonnie say it hurt hurts to live
Lady issues, sinus blues, endless bad news,
I bring her a cup of tea,
Did you include the rum for my tum tum?
Yes I did, Bon Bon,
She’s got me hiding it.
Bonnie wannie how about going out today?
Nay, say Bonnie, No way Rita Mae.
Ok, I say.
Soon she is sleepy,
I need a nap old chap, clap clap,
I walk her to her bed,
Bonnie says it hurt hurts to live,
Rent issues, hip blues, endless tissues, haha.
Oh Bonnie I love thee now sleep.
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Haikus from Audrey Duplantier (@bookclub_baddies on IG)
Tattered books on the shelves.
Their yellowed pages well-loved.
Still yearn to be read.
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Winter never ends.
The snow ignores my despair.
Frost mocks my sorrow.
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I smoke to forget.
What am I writing about?
I smoke to forget.
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I never grew up
I had better things to do
I blame Peter Pan.
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A collection of poems from Tricia (@triciasfollowingherheart on IG)
Why do we doubt ourselves?
Our capabilities and dreams matter.
Doubt the weather,
not your desires and imaginations,
take the steps,
speak your words,
make the call,
write the poetry,
doubt the weather,
don’t doubt you.
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I wear wisdom in my scars and lines of life.
Much like a trees journey.
No tree and no human are the same.
Every experience imprints a memory and story.
We carry with us an access when needed.
Some spark pain and sadness,
others laminate love,
trace your life in your lines,
hug a tree and feel its resonance,
giving grace to all our wisdom.
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Thank you to the artists for sending their work to be shared in this edition of Poems That I am Proud of, and thank you reader for supporting their work. Please feel free to follow the artists’ pages, and keep an eye out for the July edition!