Category Archives: poetry

I saw the Milky Way! (with a picture and a poem)

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I first found out about the power of retrograde Mercury in 2021. Last night to celebrate the ending of the most recent Mercury retrograde, I went to the beach. It was the new moon, so the stars were bright. I laid on my back in the sand and looked up at the sky and after about half an hour, just as I was preparing to leave, I realized I could see the Milky Way, that elusive cloud of hundreds of billions of stars that is so seldom visible in the sky that I’ve never actually seen/noticed it before.

Part of me wanted to stay all night looking at that misty cloud, but at least a portion of this poem is somewhat true. And so I left. I did manage to (surprisingly) capture some of what I saw in a few pictures, though. And today I wrote a poem to go with one of them to share here. 

Retrograde Mercury
By Michelle Garren-Flye

My first time seeing the Milky Way, Mercury was in retrograde.
Everything went wrong, and I couldn’t linger long—
the cat was sick, the car failed to start, the restaurant I picked
had a two-hour wait, so I gave up, surrendering to my fate.
As the sunset faded, the stars above me played,
and I only spared them a glance, in no mood for a dalliance.
Yet later when my belly was filled, 
I thought about the way they spilled
through the sky…
down into the sea… 
and wished 
(oh wished)
that sight had held me
in place for a bit…
In the face of their beauty…
why couldn’t I just sit?
Milky Way during Mercury Retrograde by Michelle Garren-Flye

Celebrating Endings (with a poem)

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I used to panic whenever I’d draw the Death card from a Tarot deck. How could that possibly be a good thing? Even if it’s just the end of something, if it’s the end of something good, it’s gonna suck.

That’s why we as humans tend to celebrate beginnings. Birthdays, wedding anniversaries, the New Year. But we don’t really acknowledge that with every new beginning, something ended. The carefree life of a non-parent, the single life, the old year.

Today I pay respect to an ending in my life by celebrating what it was and what it brought me. It’s bittersweet, but I know that this is a new beginning, too. I’m ready for what’s ahead.

Let’s go.

Loop
By Michelle Garren-Flye

You left me once in the middle of a rainstorm,
I was tying my shoe, concentrating on each loop, and you
took the umbrella and wandered away
because something else caught your eye. 
I finished my task
but I was soaked to the skin
and even though you gave me my own umbrella,
I never really forgave you for taking ours. 
I doubt I ever will.
I’ll bring it up at family gatherings
and every anniversary
as if you could go back and change it,
hold the umbrella steady above me.
Turn back the clock
because without that, 
the end will never change.

Fortune Cookie Poetry

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Almost every night I have a fortune cookie with a cup of tea. It’s become my ritual. They are sometimes funny, sometimes uplifting, sometimes philosophical, sometimes almost a little spooky in the way they apply to my life.

I’ve been doing this for a couple of years now. I try never to throw them away. It seems sacrilegious. I do lose them sometimes, but I try to take a picture if it’s something I want to remember.

Here are a few I memorialized:

This one came along when I was floundering, trying to convince myself I could still write:

And then there was the time my fortune seemed to be hitting on me:

And finally, there was this one. It struck enough of a chord to inspire a poem. I thought it was a riddle, but when I did some research, I found it’s more of a philosophical conundrum. Fun stuff.

I have no idea what wisdom you can actually find in fortune cookies. Though Chinese restaurants adopted the cookie to appease Americans who wanted something sweet to finish off their meal with, no one actually believes they’re Chinese. In fact, though I did find some evidence in a quick Google search that fortune cookies originated in Japan, I’m pretty sure my fortune cookies are very American. And yet, I’ve found that the Universe can speak in many different languages, and English is definitely one of them.

WHAT HIDES IN AN EMPTY BOX?

We puzzled over the fortune cookie
long after dinner was done 
and the dishes taken away;
the check was paid 
and you and I were on the way home.
Darkness, you said, that’s what hides there
and I figured you were right
because if you open the box
and let the light in,
the darkness can’t be seen.
But later still, lying awake
with darkness pressing on my face
smothering me
like your apologies
I wondered if we had been wrong.
Maybe the darkness didn’t hide
when you opened the empty box.
Maybe when the light chased it out
it roared and screamed
and lashed about.
Maybe what hid there in its place
was my heart.

It’s Free!

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Forget my complicated relationship with Amazon for a bit. Right now, as we speak, my new book of love poetry, Where the Sidewalk Begins, is totally free for your Kindle. It’ll be that way until Sunday, and on Sunday at 11 a.m. I’m going to go live on Instagram and read parts of my book.

Which means if you want to read the book and request a poem to be read, you can do it.

Or you can read the book and ask me questions about it.

So you got some homework to do, and actually, so do I. Because I have a mind like a steel…tablespoon. It fills up quickly and stuff sloshes out. So the poetry I wrote and carefully selected and formatted and made into a book might have been forgotten by now, lol. And definitely any inspiration behind it. l

Tomorrow I’ll talk a little about why I’m a bit scared of the idea of going live. And why I’m going to do it anyway.

Dare I take that first step, feel heel strike hard stone, face the rest of my life…alone?

From “Where the Sidewalk Begins” by Michelle Garren-Flye
Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye Copyright 2023

Spoiler 3: Where the Sidewalk Begins update

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I’ve been super busy working on Where the Sidewalk Begins. This book is a new start for me in a lot of ways, so I’m taking my time and making sure it’s exactly what I want it to be. I’m really loving the way each block is coming together in the bookbuilding process.

Here’s a tiny large spoiler for you. The illustration is my favorite from the book. The quote is from one of my favorite poems in the book. Of course, I’m trying to only include my favorite poems in this book, but you get it.

Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

I Promised Spoilers

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I haven’t really followed through, have I? I’m close to having Where the Sidewalk Begins ready, but I’ve only done one spoiler! lol. I’m sure you’re all hanging in there waiting for each one, right?

Appropriately, I pulled today’s “spoiler” from a poem titled “Echoes in a Fangirll’s Heart”, inspired mostly by David Bowie, with a small nod to Stray Kids (if you’re not familiar with them, check them out).

I hope you enjoy. And I hope you’ll stick with me for another month or so when I’ll have the book finished!

Spoiler #2. Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

What I’ve Been Doing

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I know, I spend an entire month on here giving you a new poem (or something) every day, then I disappear for more than a week. I have been working and planning, though. My next book, Where the Sidewalk Begins (with apologies to Shel Silverstein), must be published! I revealed the cover at the end of April. Now I’ve begun planning the shape of the book itself.

I have (thanks in large part to April’s poem a day) enough love poems to make a book. It took me a while to decide how to illustrate it, though. I believe I’ve settled on the look I want. So, from now until I publish the book, I’m going to give you a “spoiler” image with a quote from one of the poems at least once a week. This will keep me working steadily. I’m hoping to have an illustration for each poem, so 50 poems, 50 illustrations, but it might end up being half that many. We’ll have to see.

Anyway, here’s “spoiler #1” for the poem “Where the Sidewalk Begins”.

Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 30: Happy National Poetry Month!

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It’s bittersweet this ending of National Poetry Month. This one, more than many others, has meant a lot. I’m happy it’s over, but sad at the same time.

I’m happy because I have a lot of material to work with when I got to put together Where the Sidewalk Begins. I’ve written some good stuff, some decent stuff, some stuff that needs work. It’s going to be interesting to see how it comes together.

I’m sad because I enjoyed the pressure of writing a poem a day. Why can’t I continue that after this month? Well, because it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. I mean, look at just the past few days. I’ve been sick, I’ve been trying to get caught up at work, I’ve had two big events this weekend. And every day I either had to write something poetic or do an Instagram live.

Speaking of the Instagram live, I do realize I owe you one of those. I promise to do it soon. As I mentioned before, I’ve been sick and I don’t really look great right now. So I decided to take today off and just write another poem instead.

So here’s the last poem of National Poetry Month 2023. Thank you for joining me this month.

Symphony in My Head
By Michelle Garren-Flye

Today I hear flutes playing 
…not in the distance…
No, they’re inside my head.

Trumpets kick in a blaring note
…make me start a bit…
But they’re not the only ones.

A harp, a violin, a trombone or two
…is that an electric guitar?...
It’s a full-blown symphony up there.

The drumbeats start and I have to move
…what other choice do I have?...
I’ll dance along, keep time with their song.

Oh, it’ll keep me going all day long
…the rhythm, the flow, the beat…
How I love this symphony in my head!
Working cover for Where the Sidewalk Begins. Hope you’ll check it out when it’s done!
Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 29: Happy National Poetry Month!

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I love rhyme. I love rhyming poetry. I write both rhyming and non-rhyming poetry, but I do love playing with rhyme. I’m actually sad that rhyming poetry isn’t really “in” right now. Many literary magazine editors state they rarely accept rhyming poetry.

But rhyme is fun. So today I experimented with a rhyming pattern. It’s not exactly right yet, but you can get an idea of what I mean, maybe.

Spring
By Michelle Garren-Flye 

Even the gray days of Spring
can waken dreams and desires
you’d forgotten from your youth—
maybe it’s time to relight old fires.

Write them all down as truth
and craving will become a blessing
that haunts even as it inspires—
you just don’t know what it will bring!

For Spring is a god who admires
the worshippers who don’t dispute
but accept the dreams he acquires—
they’re only meant to soothe.
Can’t you smell the green? Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 28: Happy National Poetry Month!

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It’s almost the end of National Poetry Month. I’ve ended up with almost fifty pages of poetry! I finished my little epic “Where the Sidewalk Begins”, which means I’ll start putting together the book next month. it will have many of the poems I’ve written here in it. I’ve nearly figured out how to illustrate it, too. I finished the cover the other day. Not to mention, I broke out of my writing slump.

These are all good things to take away from National Poetry Month. I also discovered new ways to share my love of poetry. Like “live poetry writing” lol. Those were fun, especially when I was working and constantly interrupted. And my live readings on Instagram. I’m hoping to find the courage to continue those, even if it’s just to read someone else’s poetry.

One thing I didn’t expect to discover was a sincere appreciation for poetry prompts. When I started my book of love poetry, I had no idea what this year of the rabbit held for me. Let’s just say it’s been mostly hard to concentrate on light themes. But that’s okay because love isn’t all light, and some of the poetry I’ve written has helped me explore the darker side of love.

Today I’m going to do something a little different than I’ve done yet. I’m going to write a poem based on a picture of a tree (trees?) that I discovered in my yard yesterday. Here’s the tree:

My poetry prompt of the day.
Another view

It’s 11:06 a.m. I’m off to write the poem now.

11:20 a.m. The poem took an unexpected turn. I’m pacing to see if I want to allow it. I’m also going to make another cup of coffee.

11:37 a.m. I finished it. I’m not sure how I feel about it. It went much further into the dark than I’d intended. But I think it’s good. Still needs some work to get the rhythm right, maybe. 

Disassociate
By Michelle Garren-Flye

When did it begin, this twining of lives,
and how can it end…unless death intervenes?
Darkness and light combine to create
a weaving pattern I both love and hate.
Beauty of together should not be denied—
shadow perfects light, bright foils the dark.
Even when harmony cannot be reached
the two make each other complete.
Tear them apart if you dare, won’t you?
Sort it all out into two imperfect piles,
never quite even, no matter how you hack.
(Equitability is something the heart can’t fathom.)
Sometimes I forget I once was alone,
the wealth of that time got lost in my past.
Perhaps when I leave when it’s over and done
I’ll find some of me left in my stack…at last.

Photos and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye