Day 28: Happy National Poetry Month!

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.

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

Day 13: Happy National Poetry Month

I’ve never been reliant on poetry prompts before, but this month they’re really helping me out. I’m not doing the live writing today because I’ve already had a thousand interruptions, but I will tell you this is a fresh poem I wrote from a prompt I got here. It’s number 22, and, just as I’ve never liked relying on poetry prompts, I especially (usually) despise prompts like this one that give you specific words to use.

And yet, that’s the one that caught my eye. As a nod to the fact that I am definitely not always right, I used the prompt words for the title. I hope you enjoy this one. It’ll probably be in my book of love poetry. Possibly with a different title.

new rain card chance

by michelle garren-flye

i’m putting pieces of me together everyday

finding them in unexpected places

maybe i lost a small one down a drain

that i’ll find again in the rain

my mother sent one to me in a birthday card

i neglected to open until now

this search takes a toll it’s really hard

but with every moment i learn more about

how to check the hard-to-reach spaces

behind shelves and above cupboards

there’s no telling how far the bits of me strew

when my heart broke into a thousand pieces

i doubt i’ll find them all before i die—

I can replace what’s lost with something new.

I mowed my lawn yesterday, painful as it was to mow buttercups.
Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye