It’s 11:15 a.m. I have not written a poem to share. Nope. So I’m going to write one right now. Live…ish.
Excuse me a moment while I go find a prompt I like.
Oooh. Found one. On this website. Number 10. “Create a gallery of your heart. Take readers on a guided tour of what they might see there.” That immediately sparked my imagination. So here goes.
Heart Gallery
By Michelle Garren Flye
Watch your step, it’s showing its age
this old heart gallery of mine.
But really the cracks set the stage
and let the artwork shine!
Over here, memories of days gone—
you’ll see Mama’s picture set up high—
and the nest from which I’ve long since flown,
those who watched as I took to the sky.
Baby pictures, treasures—it may seem inane—
letters of old love, scraps of life on display…
Most of it appears designed to cause me pain—
the open book of my past I failed to file away.
I will not banish any of it from my trove,
because, above all, I feel only love.
It’s 11:45 a.m. I just finished the edits. It’s not bad. A sort of sonnet. What do you think?
Maybe I should’ve used the moon for a prompt? I’ve done it before, though. Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye
Sorry to be a bit late with this one, but I wrote it literally an hour ago. Had to let it sit for a bit to make sure it’s not too bad to share. I don’t think it is. What do you think?
Wanna?
By Michelle Garren-Flye
Warm sun burning skin,
wind’s touch cools, swirls sandy beach—
but I am not there.
Wanna come with me?
We’ll watch the waves crash ashore,
feel peace for a while.
Wait, though, I’m not sure…
Waves, wind, and sand are precious.
Do I wanna share?
More Beach Evening Primrose. Aren’t they just so pretty? Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye.
Good morning! I’m feeling kinda good this morning because I did something last night that I haven’t in a while. Instead of firing up Netflix after my shower, I pulled out my computer…and wrote a poem.
It turned out pretty well, too.
I’m not going to share it here, though. Sorry. I’m not being coy, but I do want to save something for my book of love poetry, and this one fits.
However, I am going to share a poem. I write a haiku to post on the message board at my store (I own a bookstore). I write a haiku every month for that message board. Of course, they’re promoting reading/books, but it’s fun and keeps me in the 5-7-5 practice.
Anyway, I finished my April one a bit late this morning, and thought I’d share it here for my daily poetry post. It’s something a little different to keep things spicy! 🙂
Photo and Haiku copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye
So I may have missed my mark by a few hundred years. I believe I belonged in the time of romantic poets. Shelley, Byron. Keats, Dickinson… Today’s successful poets write about social issues in a way I wish I could write. I’ve tried. It mostly (a few exceptions) ends up sounding trite.
But writing love poetry, romance, looking at the moon—that’s my jam, man. lol. (what decade am I actually living in?)
I wrote this little poem yesterday. It was much less good until I wrote it today. Now it’s much gooder. To give you an idea, this is the original ending:
I seek you when I fall asleep at night
but this poem will need a good rewrite.
I was definitely right about that. So here’s another one for my collection of love poetry that is yet to come:
Missing You
By Michelle Garren-Flye
I miss you when I look at the moon
and know you won’t be back soon.
I’ve made loneliness into an art
to which I have devoted my heart.
On the radio, I may hear a tune—
against your charm, I am not immune.
Oh, can’t you rescue me from this plight,
steal me away from all anger and fright?
This love is most inopportune,
painfully made and roughly hewn.
It pokes holes in my soul, leaves me
with a wish I wish most wantonly.
Yesterday’s primrose. Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye
But before we get to that, I saw a few of you joined my live yesterday. It was on my Instagram. It was sideways. Lol. My daughter reassured me that people could turn their phones if they wanted to watch it, so I did save it to my Instagram, so you can go check it out if you want. I was nervous. It was honest-to-god my first-ever live. I’ve posted videos before, but I can stop and redo those if I mess up or whatever. This one’s got me fumbling for words and misreading and everything. All in five minutes! What entertainment.
Anyway, I haven’t gotten any actual questions about poetry to answer yet, so I probably won’t do another live until next Sunday unless something comes up before that I think would make more sense to answer live than here on my blog.
And now, a poem! I actually wrote a poem I kind of like! This morning!
(I’m a bit excited.)
It’s about a primrose.
No, really. A primrose. I took a picture of a Beach Evening Primrose this morning and it turned out super good. Plus, a friend sent me a poetry prompt last night from another poet/writing coach who suggested that we find something in nature that inspires us and write a poem about it. I intend to post this picture with the poem on Instagram and tag her to see what she thinks, hopefully. Her name is Ann Kroeker. She wrote a really nice poem about a pinecone. You should look her up.
Poem and photo copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye
It’s National Poetry Month and I have no idea what to do with it. I’ve come at this for the past few years with a real plan. Haiku, renga, a poem a day.
I’m clueless. I’m clueless because I’ve been fighting writer’s block since my mother passed away. I miss her so much and the last decent poem I wrote was a goodbye to her written a few days before her death because I knew it was coming.
I’m not saying this because I want you to feel sorry for me. I’m just saying it because I truly don’t know what to do this time around. I was in the midst of writing love poems, which was really kind of fun, but now I’m stuck. It’s hard to write about love when the person who probably loved you the most in this world is no longer in it. And I’ve written enough morose stuff. I won’t go back to that but that’s where my heart is right now.
So… This National Poetry Month is a bit different. For me. For anyone who wants to follow, I’ll be doing a bit of everything from live poetry readings on Instagram (I’ll announce when on here) to posting whatever I’ve managed to write that day. Today I’m posting a thought and a picture I took yesterday. I’m already planning a short live poetry reading tomorrow morning at 11 a.m. EST. If you have any questions you want to ask me about poetry, send me an email to mgflye (at) yahoo.com or just comment here.
This is my mother. It was taken not long ago by my brother. He often took her and my father out to lunch since he lived nearby. My mother had Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed in February 2020. She passed away on February 21 this year. I like this picture because her smile is bright and though the disease she fought had taken so much of her by this point, you can still see her intelligence and humor. And there’s a bit of innocence there, too. Like maybe she was already becoming an angel.
I saw her a month ago. She was still awake and still knew me, though communication was difficult by that point. But I could see she knew who I was, and I am grateful for that. I got to hold her hand and even felt her squeeze it a little. I know this is not always the case. I miss her. I’ve missed her for a long time, but now, knowing she won’t wake up and talk to me again one day, it’s different.
My mother taught me to laugh whenever I could, to curse when I had to, to enjoy music and reading, how to clean toilets (although I don’t use that much), that you always vacuum before you dust (again, not something I use much), to clean as you cook, that the beach is a bit of heaven on earth, that fried potatoes and country-style steak are the best food you’ll ever have on this earthly plane, to apologize when you’re wrong, and that loving and protecting your children takes precedence over everything else and doesn’t end just because they’re adults.
Among many other things.
I remember hearing that you’re not truly dead until no one is left to remember you. That’s part of why I’m putting this out there. Tomorrow is her funeral, and I will say goodbye to my mother. But I don’t believe she will truly be gone. Because I will always remember her. And maybe now some of you will, too.
Goodbye
By Michelle Garren-Flye
Let’s say goodbye as many times as you like:
once when I’m lying in bed unable to face the day,
When I set out to write love poetry, I knew I’d have to find a different angle for it. I am still working on that, and I may have taken it to the extreme with this one. Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day!
Poem and illustration copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye
I’m writing another poetry book. It’s a book of love poems.
No. I’m not in love. Not even close.
But I do have love. I have love for a lot of things and people and places, and if I concentrate on that love, I’m never lonely. If I let it fill me up, it lights up all the dark spaces so even when I’m scared, I know I’ll find my way.
If you think I’m lucky, you’re right. If you think it’s easy, you’re wrong. The worries of the world, mean people, personal problems, Chinese spy balloons…I could go on but I won’t because those things sneak in too easily. Instead, I will make the decision to live my life in love because it will make me stronger. I will draw my life the way I want it to be.
And I will not wait to be in love to write my love poems.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 