Tag Archives: National Poetry Month

National Poetry Month: Poem 30

I wanted my last poem of poetry month to be different. A little special and about something I don’t write about often. So here you go. I was as honest as I could be.

Poem 30

Self Portrait

By Michelle Garren Flye


Broad strokes for face,

Not my favorite part.

A finer point for hands,

Nimble and quick—

But the weather changes

And pain sets in.

Pink for the breast

And scarlet for the center.

Let the red run a bit,

Let the heart bleed—

No shame for feeling

The world’s hurts.

The head is hardest,

The brain a smudge of gray…

But changeable, like a thundercloud

On a summer’s day.

It’s me, but not.

Not quite, anyway.

I suspect I don’t really know

What others see,

And there’s no other way

To know me.

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National Poetry Month: Poem 29

For those who marched today.


Poem 29


By Michelle Garren Flye


One hundred long days.

Forty-five ignores the facts.

A nation revolts.

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National Poetry Month: Poem 28

Poem 28


By Michelle Garren Flye


Wake up!

Because the birds are singing.

Wake up!

And see the flowers bloom.

Wake up!

Because it’s fading away…


Endangered becomes extinct,

Ices melt and seas rise,

The air turns poison,

And there is nothing left to prize—


Wake up!

Do something. Listen and learn.

Wake up!

The alarm has sounded…


Wake up!

You can’t afford to sleep.


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National Poetry Month: Poem 27

It’s Poem in Your Pocket Day. Here’s a poem. Just saying.

Poem 27

The Last Word

By Michelle Garren Flye


I left a new book on the dock yesterday.

And by the time I returned,

Rain had fallen and dried again.

The pages, once crisp, were brittle

To the touch; the shiny cover had dulled.

But its message had not dimmed in the wash—

I found the last word I read right where I left it.

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National Poetry Month: Poem 26

Poem 26

Horsehair and Sheep Gut

By Michelle Garren Flye


Why does the violin make me feel

Strong and free—and right?

Horsehair draws across sheep gut strings

And my heart wants to take flight.


Soaring through the clouds—

A seagull when he wheels—

Heading higher into the sky—

No, this is how the eagle feels.


But when the music is over

And the instruments are put away

Where does that leave the listener?

Except plummeting into the light of day?

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National Poetry Month: Poem 25

Poem 25

In Over Your Head

By Michelle Garren Flye


You miss solid ground beneath your feet,

But paddle gamely on.

Your resolve is still intact—

You’ll never admit defeat.


But the waves are rising and you’re far from shore.

Your legs are tired and your arms are sore.


And when at last the life preserver appears,

And you seize it in your grasp,

You realize it’s pulling you back—

But maybe that’s the least of your fears.


Is there shame in going back there

When you never really belonged out here?

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National Poetry Month: Poem 24

I had some fun with this one. 🙂


Poem 24

Headline Design

By Michelle Garren Flye


Little bits, pieces.

Unimportant on the floor.

Haircuts for the news.


Is that the story?

Which words are most trustworthy?

What makes the whole truth?


Bits and pieces lie.

Truth lies in between the cracks.

Don’t believe one source.

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