To my neighbors

You built this house

with all these fine,

wide windows

yet your curtains remain

drawn,

your blinds closed.

Why, when

you have such

a lofty vantage point

do you shut out

the view of the world?

As some of you may remember, I have a great fondness for windows. My neighbors have such a beautiful house but they never take advantage of their windows. That makes me sad.

 

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To certain someones

You said I had beauty

in me

but you

couldn’t recognize

the beauty of me.

They say

only one

kind of beauty matters,

the beauty found within,

but I’m not sure

that’s true.

Even the holiest of holies

must have

a home

and what is more holy

than a heart and soul?

I say, next time,

don’t give me a half-compliment.

Love the full me

or get out of my sanctuary.

I hadn’t written a rage at my exes poem in a while.

 

Shelving

Working in a library,

you feel fairly safe.

There’s a desk between you

and those you help.

When you shelve,

there’s a cart

you can easily shove into people

and there are

scads of stacks you can pull from

to find a weapon

should you need one.

(I recommend the

Norton Shakespeare.)

But the only thing

nothing can

protect you from

are their stares.

Lonely, lustful, vacant, bored,

their eyes will chew you

and spit you up

every day

so that you can feel

disgusting and dirty

though no one has touched you.

 

Written after a long, difficult day at work during which I was stared at a lot.

What’s not needed

It seems forbidden

but then again,

everything once

was forbidden.

We are taught to build meaning

out of another’s

words

but to use another’s words

for your own meaning,

is that okay?

They say it’s better

to ask forgiveness than

permission,

so let’s go.

Sorry, Shakespeare,

you’re being edited.

 

Written directly after making yesterday’s blackout poem. I’ve always wanted to try it ever since I first heard about it, but I never plucked up the courage until one of my best friends gave me a book of excerpts of Shakespeare that was designed for blackout poetry. Thanks again, Abigail, for such a great gift! If you want to know more about this type of poetry, here’s a video all about it. I hope you’re enjoying the October Poetry Project so far! I certainly have!

Consternation and lack of concentration

Dog,

you bark at the birds

as they fly past.

Only you know if you are encouraging

them to flap higher

and soar faster

or if you’re screaming at them

that what goes up

must inevitably come down,

even their own feathered, hollow bones.

You still bark and bark

until I can’t concentrate

and I bark back at you.

 

Inspired by an afternoon of writing on the porch, while this guy objected to the birds that rest in the bush by our house.

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