Tell it to the Moon


I lay in the dark,
wish my wolf-heart wasn’t pierced,
longing for your touch.
I failed you, still love you, hate
some of this and all of me.

Tell it to the moon:
howl your wish that we were whole.
Howl your broken heart;
Wish to turn back that damned clock.
Or live with choices you’ve made.

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Tell It to the (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Possible titles include: “Tell It to the Hand,” “Tell It to the Judge,” “Tell It to the Six-Foot Bunny Rabbit,” and so on.



Nowhere (a roundabout)


Our hearts can’t keep chasing our feet,
making circles this way.
Something must give,
and I can’t live
with this heartache each day.

I feel your heart and its dismay.
The pain I must forgive.
You chose to leave.
I choose to grieve.
The break we will outlive.

I wish you could yourself forgive.
I wish I could believe,
someday we’ll meet,
healing complete.
Perhaps I am naïve.

Today our hearts need a reprieve.
I long for a retreat.
You chose your way;
there’s naught to say.
We should admit defeat.

For today’s prompt, write a location poem. Location could be physical–like the laundromat, a public park, a glacier, flying saucer, etc. Or location could be emotional, psychological, metaphysical, or some other kind of word that ends in -al. Or surprise everyone!

The Roundabout is a four stanza poem, with each stanza consisting of 5 lines. The poem is written in iambic and the lines have 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet and 3 feet respectively. The rhyme scheme is abccb/bcddc/cdaad/dabba. Roundabouts can be on any subject.


Dead Too Soon (a Collum lune)

Love letters straight from your heart

an unsealed envelope
addressed to a valentine gone
gathers dust, unsent


For today’s prompt, write an elegy. An elegy doesn’t have specific formal rules. Rather, it’s a poem for someone who has died. In fact, elegies are defined as “love poems for the dead” in John Drury’s The Poetry Dictionary. Of course, we’re all poets here, which means everything can be bent. So yes, it’s perfectly fine if you take this another direction–for instance, I once wrote an elegy for card catalogs. Have at it!


The lune is also known as the American Haiku. It was first created by the poet Robert Kelly (truly a great poet) and was a result of Kelly’s frustration with English haiku. After much experimentation, he settled on a 13-syllable, self-contained poem that has 5 syllables in the first line, 3 syllables in the second line and 5 syllable in the final line.


Love Arriving, Love Leaving


Your love came in like a lamb:
light-footed, and playful
curled against me for warmth
all tangled and matted wool

Your love went out like a lion:
roaring and breaking windows
angry at such a deep wound.
No, wait — that was me.

That was my passion, spilling out
staining the bedding with tears
and the floor with blood.
Your love went out, like it came in.


For today’s prompt, we actually have a Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

Write a love poem. Love, it’s such a big 4-letter word that can mean so much to so many for a variety of interpretations. Friendly love, sexual love, dorky love, all-encompassing love, jealous love, anxious love, love beaten with a baseball bat, hot love, big love, blues love, greeting card love, forgiving love, greedy love, love in a music video, and so on and so forth.

Write an anti-love poem. Well, kinda like love, but take it back the other way.


Just Go (A Chant)


For months I’ve held your place.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
I trusted the hope in your face.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

You’ve kept me here on a string.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
You’re protecting me from the sting.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

You just couldn’t face hurting me.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
While bending to another’s decree.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

You hid the truth in your silence.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
You covered up reality’s violence.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

You’ve never had the strength.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
So you held me at great length.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

She took matters into her hands.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
Cut me deep, so I’d understand.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

Still, you cannot speak what’s true.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.
You chose, and our future is through.
Just go. Just — go, please. Go.

Prompt #11 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

For today’s prompt, make a statement the title of your poem and either respond to or expand upon the title. Some example titles might include: “A Date Which Will Live in Infamy;” “Guns Don’t Kill People, I Do;” “This Is Your Brain on Drugs;” “Smile for the Camera,” and “Be Kind Rewind.” Of course, there’s an incredible number of possible titles; pick one and start poeming!

The chant poem is about as old as poetry itself. In fact, it may be the first form poetry took. Chant poems simply incorporate repetitive lines that form a sort of chant. Each line can repeat, or every other line. It’s easy to find many poetic forms that incorporate chanting with the use of a refrain. However, a chant poem is a little more methodical than a triolet or rondeau.


The Eye of the Storm


You might think I’d rage in my grief,
and cry till I shook like a leaf.
Although it won’t show,
and no one may know,
today, all I feel is relief.



Prompt #8 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

Today is a Tuesday, so two prompts:

  • Write a violent poem. Could be person on person violence, person on animal, animal on animal, nature on person/animal/nature, and so on (insects, erosion, cosmos, etc.).
  • Write a peaceful poem. I suppose this might be the opposite of a violent poem. But perhaps not.

The poetic form is limerick:

Typically, the first two lines rhyme with each other, the third and fourth rhyme together, and the fifth line either repeats the first line or rhymes with it. The limerick’s anapestic rhythm is created by an accentual pattern that contains many sets of double weakly-stressed syllables. The pattern can be illustrated with dashes denoting weak syllables, and back-slashes for stresses:

1) – / – – / – – /
2) – / – – / – – /
3) – / – – /
4) – / – – /
5) – / – – / – – /

See more at:

Link to the prompt:

Night Cycle


nothing can quiet the voices
in my head, in my heart, the
grief of hearing you explain
how you have no choice, but
to choose her and leave me

noises that mask themselves
in the silence of darkness
go ringing through my head
heedless of my weary state
torturing me with insomnia

no hope of sleep can reach me
i am a record stuck on repeat
grasping for shadows of silence
holding too tightly to the past
tomorrow i’ll forget you more

now i can only stare at darkness
imagine this life without you
gods know in time tears will dry
hey, i might nap in the morning
there’s hope for me after all

Prompt #6 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

“For today’s prompt, write a night poem. Vampires and werewolves? Cool. Clubbing and saloons? You got it. Lovers together alone? Right. Ex-lovers alone on their own? Sure thing. You figure out your night poem–and, yes, (k)night poems are fine too.”

The poem is a repeated acrostic of the word “night”.

Link to the prompt:

Since You Taught Me


I can stand on my own
keep my balance
on my toes

I can cry through the night
ride the sorrow
on my own

Don’t believe I’m not hurt
by your choice

but I’m strong I have learned
both joy and pain
come with love

I will heal, and be loved
honor the life
we once shared


Prompt #4 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

“For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Since (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “Since the Last Time I Smoked,” “Since You Said Please,” and “Since When.””

Link to the prompt:



Your break-up letter
cracked like ice
in my trembling hands,
bit my fingertips
like winter’s frost,
and froze my soul.

The ink, the paper,
the stamped envelope,
crumbled to snow
against my breasts.
I’m too cold, even
to thaw my tears.

You are now the winter
of my discontent.
I stare out my window
at spring’s bright sun,
hold my breath and pray
for the coming thaw.

Prompt #3 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

“For today’s prompt, write a message poem. Messages can be delivered in a variety of ways: postcard, e-mail, text message, letter in a bottle, smoke signals, secret codes, jumbotron proposals, etc. Also, messages themselves can be simple, complicated, nice, mean, happy, sad, and so on. Get at it!”

Link to the prompt:


The moment we begin to seek love, love begins to seek us.
And to save us.
-Paulo Coelho


For five years, I invested. I loved, I learned, I grew. I was patient, grateful, open. I loved. I gave my energy, my time, and my heart to a lifetime relationship with a man who loved me. I believe he did, love me. I still believe he does.

He also loved another. So did I. We tried, in our brokenness, to build a triad that fit the three of us. The truth is, though he and I had known each other longer, their relationship was stronger. They built a life together that included each other, every single day. I was part of that life, but not in person, not in the day to day living; it wasn’t possible, or desired. The transition to triad, while sorting out three different couple relationships, was hard. It was really hard. In a year of deaths and tragedies, of stresses and changes in jobs, homes, and plans for the future, we didn’t do a great job of communicating. We didn’t talk often enough about how that triad should work, or how the individual relationships should work. We argued. We cried. We tried. We really, really tried.

We failed.

She gave up first… abandoned the triad and me, in her efforts to salvage them. He fought for months, to find a way to make us fit… him and me, our love. Then he gave in.

The last time we talked about us, he asked for time… to get his head in a good place… to mourn the loss of what he’s hoped for, what he was building his life around before she gave up… and then we could talk about starting over, building something different, something less…

His life is busy, with wedding plans, life changes… with the busy that all our lives demand. My life is busy, with my nesting partner, my family, my own stressful life demands. But my heart is lonely, broken. I feel abandoned, rejected, and penniless in terms of a five year investment of my heart into him, while also, still grieving a failed two year attempt at a relationship with her. I feel dumped.

My relationship philosophy is that if I really love someone, and their life changes, I don’t close a door. I leave it open, and wish them well, hoping they find happiness. Maybe, at some point, he will discover there’s room for me. Maybe he never will. It’s the only thing I can do, in light of what he’s chosen to do in regard to the life we’ve built together, and now cannot have.

So, I grieve. I move on. I may, or may not, have a promising new relationship to focus on. Truth is, that’s not really going anywhere right now. His busy life demands more than he can give, and there’s no room for me, today. Maybe someday that will change. I hope. All I really want is to love someone, deeply, fully. To be understood as a polyamorous being, and loved for it, not in spite of it. I want more than this, and I’m afraid that the journey to find it… begun again, after five long years, will be hard. I may not be so lucky as I have been.

I wonder, as I’m looking… I’ve been looking, for a very long time… is love really also looking for me?