Poem and illustration by Michelle Garren Flye. Copyright 2021.
Haiku 3 (National Poetry Month)
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Haiku 2 (National Poetry Month)
Haiku 1 (National Poetry Month)
Poem and illustration by Michelle Garren Flye. Copyright 2021
A Poem for Valentine’s Day
What if Valentine’s Day was a way to renew what you feel instead of declare it?
Daring
By Michelle Garren Flye
Fold up your petals
Don’t dare to emerge
On this not-even-just-spring-day
You’ll win no medals
In the pre-spring surge
Sp don’t dare rush along the way
But maybe the one who meddles
And pushes life to the verge
Daring to jump ahead of the fray
Will be the one who gentles
That which would otherwise scourge
Maybe Love’s daring will keep us safe.
Poem: Taking the Lead
I’ve been entering contests, so I haven’t had much to put up here recently since most contests won’t accept previously published poetry. I wrote this one this morning, though. because my daffodils are already starting to bloom, and I decided I should share it here instead of trying for fame.
Taking the Lead
By Michelle Garren Flye
There’s always one to emerge before winter’s done.
Poking bright petals out to the sun, as if no one will care.
It seems as if the cold air should bring on despair
But you must lead the way, the charge before spring
When there’s still too much bite for the robin’s wing.
Why come out now, oh, little yellow flower?
Why stick your neck out before the seasons change?
Don’t you know you have no real power
And your appearance now is nothing but strange?
The frost will still nip you back when you bud.
But maybe you’re here to bring hope to us all.
Maybe your courage will stir all our blood!
Why wait for the rest of the world to stand tall?
There must be one to lead the way
To hold up the standard and show that we care.
That first soldier marches so we have one to follow
Like the little yellow flower that doesn’t mind cold air
And risks a frosty death in a show of bravado.
Poem: Hell at Your Doorstep
Like many, I’ve been watching the developments of the riot at the Capitol Building last week. Probably more than I should…although, maybe not.
You see, at first, I thought it was a bunch of yahoos that overwhelmed an unprepared bunch of basically mall cops. Were the cops even armed with anything but batons and shields? I wasn’t clear. It seemed, at first, like a bunch of rednecks got out of control at a tailgate party.
Over the course of the past week, it’s become very clear, that’s not what happened at all. The rioting crowd was out for blood. And blood was spilled. Some theirs, but a lot of it from the courageous police who were all that stood between the mob and the fragile gears of our democracy.
I think it’s important that we all not only realize this but accept it. Maybe there were good people in that mob swept up by the evil and the hell. Maybe we all need to be on guard because if the events of January 6, 2021 are any indication, hellfire is just a step away.
Hell at Your Doorstep
By Michelle Garren Flye
Hell’s not far away
Pull back the shade
You know it’s there
It doesn’t try to hide
Watch people tumble
Unresisting to the flames
Follow, follow, the light cries
Come and meet your doom
The eagle’s flight wavers
Courageous profiles darken
When hell flames alight
At your very doorstep
Massive gates won’t stop
The press of fiery rage
Stone burns the same
As wooden crosses then
Thorns bleed tears of wine
Drip down marble visage
Don’t look out the window, love
Hell will greet you there
Poem: I wrote the most perfect sentence
Sadly based on real life events.
I Wrote the Most Perfect Sentence
By Michelle Garren Flye
Right there for a moment
The most perfect sentence
Written in an instant
In a flash of brilliance
Nostalgic but not sappy
Surely worthy of award
I was superbly happy
It struck just the right chord
But I was busy with life
Unable to write it down
Settling scores and strife
Bustling about my town
When at last I sat to write
Nothing was left to recall
Try and try as I might
The words had gone AWOL
Poem: I’m a December Tree
I haven’t put anything up here in a while, but I’m hard at work. I’ve been writing, poetry mainly, but the second comic book is starting to take shape. Rekka and Kat will be back. You’ll find out a bit more about them in the second issue. My poetry is getting better, I think. I can’t always share it because I’m entering poetry contests and the rules say “no previously published work” in most of those. My blog counts as “previously published”, I guess (rolls eyes), so I can’t share stuff I want to enter into contests here. Which severely limits me for both!
I wrote this one the other day and decided I’d rather put it on here than enter it into a contest. I don’t know why. It just seemed right somehow. Maybe something is telling me there’s someone out there who needs to hear it right now.
Poem: Craving Heart
Sometimes I’m attracted to a particular thing or sound or food/drink for no particular reason that I can name. My craving may attach itself to something I’ve known about and/or liked/loved for years. But all of a sudden, that’s all I want in my life.
What is this? It’s like a pregnancy craving. With my first son, I wanted milk all the time. Great, right? With my second, I wanted sweet tea, which sucked because I was living in Maryland at the time, and the only place to get good sweet tea was Bojangles. Thank God for Bojangles! My daughter was a different matter. I craved protein—in the form of hamburgers and steaks.
While I was pregnant, I figured cravings were trying to tell me something. I figure the same thing about these life cravings. Right now, all I want to listen to is Lifehouse and all I really want to read is manga/comics. I prefer drawing to writing, unless it’s poetry. What is my body trying to tell me?
Maybe it’s my spirit. Maybe it’s a type of spiritual pregnancy craving. I’ve completed my comic book (I’m moving away from calling it a graphic novel on my son’s suggestion), so it’s not that, but I can’t escape the feeling that my cravings relate to what’s happening in my creative life. In some way I can’t honestly name.
Craving Heart
By Michelle Garren Flye
Amorphous at first, like the moon’s touch,
Then filling the mind and life.
What is it you long for, want so much?
Sometimes sharp as a knife
Other times soft…you’d never hurt.
Give it to me, you whisper,
Give, and it’ll quench your thirst.
Resist you? Oh, that, I’d never!
I know how you get, my craving heart,
When I attempt to ignore
The insinuation of your persistent art.
No, I’ll surrender to wanting more
Of whatever you say I require.
I’ll see where this craving leads,
I’ll follow the road of desire—
And allow the nourishment of your needs.
Poem: Atypical Autumn…and a graphic novel update
We’re in the middle of autumn here in Eastern North Carolina. What does that mean? Beautiful trees and fire in the fireplace at night?
Hell no.
Most of our trees are evergreens, I think. We have a very few deciduous trees mixed in. But there are a few. And you catch glimpses of other color here and there. Temps are still averaging around 80 degrees although we’re no longer sitting on the Devil’s front porch (upper 90s). Still, there is beauty, and after living here for sixteen years, I’ve figured out how to find it.
Atypical Autumn
By Michelle Garren Flye
A fall like no other
With colors streaming
Like wild things at a party
Look there and there
Crimson poison ivy scales
The evergreen’s bark
And the pink magnolia seed
Gathers a fuzzy coat
Before it erupts to scatter
Scarlet hearts to unsuspecting birds
Spring and summer linger
In lemonade lantana
And late roses
If tradition is what you seek
Look to the dogwood
As its leaves brighten and fade
Chrysanthemums will blaze
And you might find a maple or two
But don’t expect too much
Atypical autumns don’t behave
The way you want them to
You have to adjust yourself
To see the beauty that’s there
And not wish for what
This season cannot be.
And with all that said, I should also add that I have recently completed edits on my graphic novel. Yeah, I know, that was fast! It feels weird that it went so fast. I think that’s the way things are when you’re driven to finish. Being completely self-published, I don’t have actual “deadlines”. Once I wrote this story, though, I knew I wanted to share it and my vision of it. Being able to do that in a visual way was very exciting to me. I’ve never been able to do that before except with my poetography. 😉 So, I’ll go ahead and announce that the kindle version of my graphic novel Hourglass is for pre-sale now on Amazon. The print version may take a little longer, and I definitely think it will be worth waiting for. I mean, who wants to read a comic book on their phone, right?
