before

“before” is a simple, five stanza poem; sharing the first and last stanzas:

while in the womb

how can it be

that God knew me

before

. . . 

knows me coming

knows me going

how can it be

that God knew me

before

© 13 December 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#know #womb #breath #thought #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #NC

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flesh and blood

Here are the second and next to last stanzas of “flesh and blood”.  The entire poem is in Naked, © 2018, Main Street Rag Publishing Company.

my day stretches out with its guarantee of apathy

I see pain-etched faces akin to old window glass

I watch the heavy, summer wind blow my hat

from one end to the other on the rear window car ledge

like my unanchored belief

 

if I follow my path

I’ll arrive at the manger

in the dark, alone

with only donkeys and goats

for company

© 2018       Cindy B. Stevens

#pain #manger #dark #path #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #NC

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bare skin

I wanted a Christmas poem to share with you, ten days prior, and decided on “bare skin”, which appears, in its entirety, in Naked, © 2018, Main Street Rag Publishing Company.  Here are the first and last three stanzas of this melancholic poem:

I feel his bare skin pressed against mine

intimate

snuggle in soft sheet luxury

on a cold, no alarm, Saturday morning

. . . 

lights are on

fire’s laid

it’s a full moon Christmas

I fill my glass

practice the art of the dunk

air bubbles shoot to surface and pop

I scoop the chocolate chip cookie chunk from my milk

Santa died

it’s hard to sleep

© 2018       Cindy B. Stevens

#Intimate #Melancholy #Christmas #Santa #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #NC

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I make change

Here’s the first stanza of “I make change”:

I’m a fallen angel

                                    in my laced-up

                                    buckled

                                    zippered

                                    burnt-orange

                                    knee-high leather

                                    boots, I walk

past the greeter towards the third pew

© Cindy B. Stevens

7 October 2016

#angel #fallen #wings #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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I cope

“I cope” speaks of needs and acceptance; here are seven lines:

pain grinds me like a coffee bean

I need escape

need a brew

I wait

watch

want

light

© Cindy B. Stevens

21 July 2017

#coffee #touch #light #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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breathe on me

Three lines of an eight line poem, “breathe on me”:

I like when he stands behind me

breathes on my neck

scruff scratches smooth

© 25 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#breath #smooth #curve #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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after the wedding

Here are the first two and last two lines of “after the wedding”, an eleven line poem:

a black dress woman undresses the brides

in front of the windows beside a red light

they’re stiff and they’re stoic

they can’t see with their eyes

© 21 September 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#bride #tulle #silk #satin #lace #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #NC

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fishing

“fishing” is a short poem; I’m sharing five lines:

I want to be a caught fish

a found sheep

I want a new name

a new life

new eyes

© 18 October 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#new #name #Jesus #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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a domestic engineer

Here are three stanzas from “a domestic engineer”, which has been finished for a while and will be in my next collection:

Home-Ec taught that cakes fall

make it perfect

smooth frosting over cracks

slather more over the German chocolate

until it stands prize worthy

I try to escape while I iron

a button-up starched shirt waves its arms

makes demands from the counter

towers over the ironing board

I soothe the yoke

careful to not scorch the starch, I run steam over wrinkles

they scream and hiss

refrigerator tosses salad greens

cork bits float in red wine

supper has done its prep-time when

the train whistles from the driveway

a clatter of boots at the back door

his eyebrows frown below his forehead drawn with lines

I stay for eyes that dare me to leave

© 5 November 2017

Cindy B. Stevens

#domestic #anger #eggshells #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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my daughter; Jessica; infant casket

In May of this year, I posted a few lines from “infant casket”.  It’s been revised and I’m sharing again, preceded with portions of “my daughter” and “Jessica”.  These poems form a trio in my new collection.

One stanza from “my daughter”:

she helps me from the table

hem pins prick my legs

as I leave the room

Mama says

“I hope you have a daughter

just like you”.

© Cindy B. Stevens

23 July 2017

Two stanzas from “Jessica”, which was published in The Phoenix, Issue 60 © 2019, literary journal published annually through Pfeiffer University:

birth pain kidnapped me

but I wouldn’t scream

she emerged

from my cloud

silent

in my dream Jessica’s five years old

she laughs

plays with her angels

tilts her head back

fastens her eyes

on me

two days prior to yesterday

A few lines from “infant casket”:

two men carry a princess through the crowd

she wears her only pink dress

my groundskeeper carries a ladder

hedge clippers

I gaze over my manicured hedge

covet

a wild rose who doesn’t belong to me

© 29 June 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#Daughter #Death #Funeral #Angels #AmEditing #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WriterLife #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #Hillsborough #NC

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Mama's humor

a stanza from “Mama’s humor”

I forget what my humor sounds like

before I was shot to death

before I couldn’t resuscitate

these days, I forget those anniversaries

sometimes I forget the tragedies

most times I forget how to joke

and I don’t remember what my laugh sounds like

 

© 2 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#laugh #life #cry #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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Lucifer says

a glimpse of “Lucifer says”

resurrection binds my hands

my wrists burn with dawn

prophesy chafes my bones

I’m a bird’s cry

I harmonize piano melody

I come from an open door where David sings his blues

he pours out his soul

it sparkles like scotch in a tumbler

every and each changed tide

blows my flame

tickles my heart

I recognize the gritty love of

Bethlehem

here, breathe my sulfur

© 27 April 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#mercy #sulfur #Lucifer #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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liquid

a portion of “liquid”

surrounded by bricks and wrought-iron

I cultivate secrets

stockpile seedlings

acquire heirlooms

but fragrant Wisteria strangles

my Hawthorn hedge integrity and

Silver Maple roots breach my wall

© 14 November 2017

Cindy B. Stevens

#distribute #garden #wall #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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praying for drought

here are the first and last stanzas from another recent poem, “praying for drought”, that I imagined on 1 March with the line “he builds a nest in the rain”; it wouldn’t leave me alone during March or July, and has agonizingly finalized itself:

I don’t think god cared I kept my absent parent fears locked

inside my diary

hidden in my closet, because

god didn’t speak up

and rain came

most every afternoon

it tried to drown my ivy

I don’t remember when

the rain

stopped

I don’t want to remember

the rain

© 2 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#rain #fear #roots #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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found

this poem, “found”, began as a rambling piece, and here are four lines of the nine remaining lines of certainty:

Jesus tells me I’m not as lost as I think

salvation is not in my reflection

my voice

head

© 16 August 2017

Cindy B. Stevens

#reflect #found #certain #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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my thunder

sharing one stanza of “my thunder”, a brief lyric poem:

thunder

scares me

wraps my brittle bones

black kettledrum

crashes

splinters my smoking door

© 23 July 2017

Cindy B. Stevens

#smoke #concrete #bones #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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collateral damage

This poem, “collateral damage”, took me almost four years to complete.  It started in 2013, then I had to leave it alone for three years, before taking it back in 2016.  Here are three stanzas:

some secrets damage

community

family

relationship

me

I’m no priest

I didn’t want to hear Rodney’s trembled voice confess his sordid secret

seek absolution

he dumped it on me

I went home

showered

the secret wouldn’t drain

to the septic system

© Cindy B. Stevens

23 July 2017

#secret #confess #casket #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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if I tell you

only the middle stanza of a recently written poem, “if I tell you”, which was inspired and completed in two weeks, 1 day; somewhat unusual for me as a poet:

if I tell you that my dreams

my off somewhere, that my

nightmares have become real, then

my shadows have sanctioned their shadows

to slaughter my sleep

© 2 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#holy #funeral #pistol #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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a metal me

a few lines from “a metal me”:

I rip me open

I’m exposed, except for Elijah’s mantle that spills over me

like a surgical drape

should I wait?

should I leave?

should I pray?

© 2 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#metal #leave #stenosis #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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indigo beach

I’m sharing three lines from “indigo beach”, a concise poem:

my sand-washed mind

moon dominated

it lures my twilight

© 20 July 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

 #moon #indigo #twilight #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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ode to frontal disclosure

An Ode:  two stanzas of “ode to frontal disclosure”:

I count your colors

on my three hands

your pinks are blush whispers

volcano hot reds

yellow daisies in sunshine

sapphires and sky blues

you are rich mocha

cappuccino smooth

© Cindy B. Stevens

6 January 2017

#color #texture

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messy

My poem, “messy” tells a sordid story and I’ll share two stanzas:

I like tight sheets

clean sheets

crisp sheets

I like fresh-from-the-line smelling sheets

I shouldn’t lie on these sheets

dread heats my jittery bones

my pores whisper smoke, shiver flame

hair singes and curls

my skin crackles

feet track soot through his bedroom to his bed

where I want to lie

burrow in a cover with his cat

© 16 June 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#crisp #soot #debris #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC

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foggy bottom

Okay, I’ll lighten up a bit with one stanza of “foggy bottom”, a three-stanza rhyming poem (which I don’t often write) and a bit sweeter than my usual:

Fog has gathered over morn, revokes its blessing on the storm

that left the night with dewy gloom, ablution hidden from the moon.

© Cindy B. Stevens

20 July 2018

#fog #storm #daffodils

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