this grief

These lines are from “this grief”, a raw, personal poem:

there’s a grief that leaks from me

my pores squeeze it

it washes my skin

drips off my fingernails

did you ever get over the death of your brothers?

asked a voice in my dream this morning

my daughter

my brothers

these griefs hug my ribs

they’re why I cry

the wind

it’s what makes me hate cold days

the sting

bite

freeze tears on my cheeks

that’s all I have to say about my dead

© 23 June 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#grief #dead #violent #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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yellow wall

I shared “yellow wall” with a friend, who said it was creepy.  It’s a conversation that popped in my head and I think you can appreciate its creepiness with these lines:

some of the walls here are an interesting shade of yellow

                        it’s mucus

sort of like some old hospital walls are puke green?

                        no

so what do you mean?

                        on my first morning here, I walked down the East Hall, touched each light

switch

                        I ran my fingers along the wall, it was slimy

did you mention that to anyone?

                        no, that afternoon it was grainy, like sand

you’re keeping this information to yourself

                        yeah, except see that guy staring out the window?

                        This morning I told him about the walls.  He told the nurse someone

whispered that some walls were made of mucus.

what did she say?

                        nothing

then, what’s the problem?

                        she gave him more medication

© 3 January 2020

Cindy B. Stevens

#mind #medicate #therapy #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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too afraid

Hard to decide which pieces of “too afraid” to share with you, but decided on these:

my fear is a book

shoved on the library shelf

I don’t want to read

my tear

bores a damp spot

a worm that eats its way through

I want an old reel-to-reel home movie

I’m hungry

but too afraid to bite the apple

© 21 October 2016

Cindy B. Stevens

#movie #fear #read #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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riptide

Here are 6 lines from “riptide”, a Palindrome:

I drown me

dredged through salt storm

wrapped in squid

weightless

 

unspoken power

my temples tremble secrets

© Cindy B. Stevens

28 July 2017

#storm #secret #power #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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snow

Some lines from “snow”:

blood washed my chalk line

I love speed

highway hum

roads sleet slick

I sneeze

wheel jerks back over yellow line

damn that monster

© Cindy B. Stevens

30 August 2017

#speed #highway #monster #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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Sunday isn't Sunday

Here’s part of a poem I just started, "Sunday isn’t Sunday":

Sunday afternoon breathes Saturday night

its chest rises

falls

breath like Cortland apples

its mouth full of Easter peeps

© 18 April 2020

Cindy B. Stevens

#Sunday #hangover #Easter #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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somebody else

Two stanzas from “somebody else”:

I don’t know I need a savior

I’m too much commotion

my turmoil overcrowded

I’m bone-weary

I don’t know I need to see

can I be delivered from me?

© 21 September 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#savior #turmoil #weary #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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writing in caves

Here are three lines from my short poem, “writing in caves”:

I like my cave

I helped build this cave

I’m afraid to come out of my cave

© 25 August 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#cave #damp #echo #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 Damascus

I enjoyed creating and fleshing out “my Damascus”.  My friend, Jim Adams, blacksmith and artist, helped clarify the blacksmithing terms I wanted to use.  Here are two stanzas:

my whole body harmonizes with D minor dross embedded in my feet

I can’t scrape it off my soles or

gouge it out

I want to shed slag from my veins

I need forgiveness everyday

but if my flesh

is a specter in my memory

am I still forgiven?

© 27 April 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#dross #slag #forge #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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giving thanks

Sharing the last two stanzas from “giving thanks”:

for wood walks

music

stories

dance

quiet

for hugs

friends

tears

family

laughter

community

© 24 November 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#music #laughter #friends #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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glass shadow

Two stanzas from “glass shadow”:

sometimes it’s blindfolded

intoxicated on a ballet stage

other times, it’s a brandished claymore

it flays my flesh

appears aloof, walls no one

sees, copes with day

torment, misery

at night, it spins in a disco ball head

it’s all I have

© 21 December 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#glass #fear #diplomat #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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tragedy divined

Sharing the first stanza of “tragedy divined”, a short poem:

my tragedies crave to cloak

hide

submerge me

my tragedies want to inhibit me

© 2 December 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#tragedy #divine #emotion #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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holy hell

This poem came from images in a graphic dream.  Here are the second, fourth, and eighth stanzas from “holy hell”:

thugs wear children faces

they carry guns under their shirts

knives tucked at ankles

they agitate hostility

spark skirmishes

explode malevolence

they don’t know their nightmare has my face

until they turn the street corner

my gun is just for looks

I hold it loosely in my bloody fingers

from a fight already won

maybe I should take that trip to heaven

walk out the kitchen door

click the latch

sip whisky with my friends

Lucifer will join us

he’ll remember I don’t like whisky

he’ll fix a cup of tea for me instead

with sugar, cream

cookies, crackers

© 29 November 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#holy #hell #tea #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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the pancake house

Sharing the last stanza from “the pancake house”:

nice people greet me by name at the Pancake House

they warm my boysenberry syrup

bring me extra sausages

sometimes crispy bacon

they remind me to take my purse when I leave

© 21 September 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#special #breakfast #pancakes #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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things I think about while comatose

This 14 stanza poem, “things I think about while comatose”, is about things I think about while comatose.  Here are stanzas one, four, six, and thirteen:

a hospital is worse than a bad neighborhood

a hospital is a bad neighborhood

vampires aren’t always devastatingly good looking

I try to bruise my garlic clove heart to keep them away from my blue pipes

they hemorrhage like Susquehanna and Allegheny Rivers bleed into the Bay and Gulf

~~~

I don’t ask my 5th grade bus-stop friend why she shaves her eyebrows

my morning screams wake me

but nobody hears

I see smoke

flames

but nobody sees

the inside of a guitar case resembles a coffin

plush like this bed

I know that fire isn’t real

but it looks really

real

~~~

I sit on a swing

watch the sky electrify the woods

hear air growl

break boulders

when I die

I’ll return

to my baseball cards clothes-pinned to my bicycle spokes

~~~

I still don’t know how long I’ve been here

I should end this

I can’t move

can’t stay

can’t leave

I only breathe

© 2 December 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#comatose #scream #coffin #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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ghost lady

The first and last stanzas of “ghost lady”:

yesterday

she was a rickshaw

dragged through the city

her over-burdened wheels splayed

pebbled street-cracked spokes

tomorrow

she’ll stare as people pose

tomorrow

she’ll be stoned

tomorrow

her sisters will make her a statue

where rickshaws pass

© 29 November 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#ghost #crowd #statue #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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no one knows

Here’s the third stanza of “no one knows”, a Pantoum poem, about a secret lover.  Sort of dark, don’t you think?

 

I discover his deceit

I can get away with murder

no one knows he has me

I point and pull the trigger

© 2 March 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#murder #lover #love #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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table grace

Here are a few lines from “table grace”:

I miss my favorite meal Mom used to make

I want pork chops

and cauliflower, a cheese-dripped wrinkled brain

now that Mom’s in Afghanistan, Aunt Sally tends our garden

when the house is quiet, I’m just a scared little girl

I know I’m the only one awake

most nights, I listen to the cuckoo clock strike

ten, eleven, twelve

I think it’s 8:30 tomorrow morning in Kabul

one o’clock my morning is the last I remember

© 31 May 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#Afghanistan #scared #clock #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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Simon says

I’d like to share the eighth stanza of my ten stanza poem, “Simon says”:

Simon’s sister saw her psychiatrist this morning and was told she isn’t any better

Simon’s sister tells her psychiatrist:

there’s this one fence post

it stands by itself

not another fence post near but it

has barbed wire wrapped around it like

it used to connect

like

there used to be a fence

© 13 December 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

#fence #barbed #brother #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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