Here are 16 poems I wrote for napowrimo poetry contest, mostly haikus that allow me to focus on writing other lengthier poems for the other days of his month. Enjoy! Originally posted on Ty Writings. Hive

Image Source flightless bird mired in mud hugging the ground to escape the storm that rages overhead rising waters overflow rocky bank and bridge of sand winds of change lash me spin me about toss me from

Image Source monster mantra of self-delusion everyday say its all fine when inside my soul is ripped to shreds and my heart no longer beats there is a monster wearing my skin parading around using my face

This poem originally appeared on Sumayyah Said So as part of National Poetry Writing Month. Image is mine flag bearer pressure to conform to confirm to fail to contradict sitting on my chest and i can’t

Every eve bees fly, trees sweep the sky when red sphere sets. Felines stretch, they mew, expect feed/ seek shelter where we dwell. They enter, elven eyes peer, fleece sheds everywhere we sweep we sweep

I roam around my house looking for ideas. like I have lost something and then forgotten what I'm searching for. I check between pages of books, and then behind the milk carton in the fridge, I look into

Roads wind and wrap around, (over and under) each other, bringing us again and again to the same places from different routes so we are still lost. sign boards double back upon themselves so we are travelling

What happens when you leave a place? Do the memories peel off the walls with paint turning to dust, swept away by new hands every morning? Do the trees weep? Do they shed their leaves as tears? Do the

Las Vegas When we met you were dropping things out of your pockets like shiny coins. I picked them up: confidence, humor, friendliness, intelligence. As time went on I began to feel lonely without you,

What the Sunrise Smells Like (on the East Coast) Fish. Salt water and soaked sand. The stale whiff of the ocean that lingers in damp clothes. Morning breath and toothpaste hidden under stifled yawns. Sweat.

Turtle hatchlings crawl out of man-made nests, testing out their limbs. They pile on top of each other, sand sticking to their new skin. They fall and tumble and flail about on their backs as they try

Radha Kunj With it’s black metal gate that never quite closes fully. Maybe that’s why the door needs three locks and three steps. My grandmother stands at the open door, with questions about my well-being

This is my ode to the standing people, the silent observers of the earth that have watched her children grow. Badam standing at the fork of the road, holding our hearts in a hidden hollow of its bark as

source I plan my days like I am packing for a short trip that warrants a bag just big enough for all the essentials. But I fill it with everything I might (or might not) need, always accounting for the

Sleep plays with my eyelashes, like kite string, tugging at them to bring lids to a close, but for the past few days I've practiced the art of losing sleep by dancing with words instead of counting sheep.

source I am losing memories like parts of myself. They spill out of my mouth with watermelon seeds I'd compete to spit further and further away when I was 7; and drip down my chin and arms with the juice

original photograph -Nesting- Dance #2 Feel joy in your ankles, Magic in your knees. Have conversation between the balls of your feet and the ground. Breathe in your pelvis, Hear with your fingertips.

Artwork by Adrien Mérigeau        My body does not feel like      home today. I fumble     at the door     with the wrong keys,     so I have to jump over the gate     and break down     the back door.

I would stop right in the middle of the market surrounded by all the words that are yet to be ingested I'd first forget आम the lusciousness of it dripping right down my elbow the sweetness and all the

original drawing - oil pastels There Is A God Inside of You what kind is up to you vengeful, wrathful, exacting, demanding payment petty, selfish, insular, tormented pitiable, defeated, insane a dancing