Downpour – a Magic 9 poem 

Sometimes I forget,
(when I smell damp night air)
what it’s like for skin to be wet–
to taste raindrops in my coffee,
and wash my own regret
in puddles at my feet.
How can I stay upset,
with the wind in my hair
reminding me not to fret?



Magic 9 – According to Robert Lee Brewer, this form is a newer form, relatively unknown, and appears to have been inspired by a poet misspelling the word “abracadabra.” There are no rules as far as meter or subject matter–just a rhyme scheme: abacadaba. (Remove the r’s from “abracadabra,” )




In the Rain


There are raindrops
in my coffee cup
and puddles
between my toes.
The sky is clouded
with questions and
I cannot even begin
the asking, because
I see in your stormy eyes
that you haven’t yet
captured the answers.
So, I sit watching water
pool in the bowl
of my upturned poem
and try not to slip into
the swiftly flowing stream,
that washes sand
from the place where
curb and street embrace.



Blues (a #NaPoMo #APRPAD rondeau poem)


I do not want to write today.
I want to sit. I want to sigh.
I want to watch the world go by,
to watch the rain and here to stay–

at this table, in this café,
and nibble on a slice of pie.
I do not want to write today.
I want to sit. I want to sigh.

I will not mourn, nor will I cry.
It’s not that I am sad that way.
My muse has gone outside to play,
and I am left here, warm and dry.
So, I will write another day.



Poetic Asides #April Poem-A-Day Challenge – PAD #10:

For today’s prompt, pick an emotion, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Happy,” “Sad,” “Angry,” or well, there’s a universe of emotions out there.



The poetic form focus for my PAD 2016 Challenge is the Rondeau — 13 lines in 3 stanzas; rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains) Usually 8 syllables per line. For info:



Come Rain


Come rain.
Wash these tear stains 
from the windows of my heart,
so I might see
through the blur —
clouds that cover,
comfort me.
For just an hour
— or four — hide me
from the sun.
Let me stand,
wet and shivering, but alive
beneath your skies?
Come rain.



Listen to Come Rain by Penelope Connor #np on #SoundCloud

Dry Spell (a re-post)

I’ve spent the past several days in the hospital with a partner. She is doing well, and we’re narrowing in on what the non-life threatening problem actually is. However, as a result, I will be re-posting a couple of previous poems this week. I hope you enjoy!

From February, 2015



I wrap myself in rain soaked sheets,
my skin well drenched in poet’s ink.
Words drip from fingers, lashes, hair,
although the squall line’s past, I think.

A rolling thunder echoes now.
Tempted I am, to seed the sky —
(I feel it in my skin, my bones.)
to dance a prayer against the dry.

To gauge the weather, test the air —
while rushing winds in whispered voice
make promises of darker clouds —
for instruments — I have one choice:

I’ll take my pen, write rhymes in form.
hold back the sun, bring on the storm.



When You Let Me


When you let me —
I will love you fiercely.

I will be deliberate
aggressive and honest
in my commitment
to your good, your health
and happiness

When you let me —
I will love you relentlessly.

I’ll tell you with words
with ink and paper
and poetry, how
my love for you tastes
looks and smells,
sounds and feels

When you let me love you —
I will do it holistically.

I will let you inside my mind
show you my fears
and convictions

I will share all my emotions,
ecstasies and disappointments
my sorrow and my joy

When you let me love you —
I will surrender my body.

My arms and shoulders
all the breath in my lungs
offer up my ample hips
strong legs and my sex

I will lavish you with love
from my star-filled eyes
my mouth dripping words
and my ink-stained fingers

When you let me love you —
I will open my sacred spirit.

I will pour out my dreams,
my whimsy and wild-child imagination
I will love with all the magic and
wonder a universe can hold

I will love you, truly,
all your broken bleeding pieces
with all my cuts and bruises
we will be two breathtakingly
vulnerable lovers:

your different-drummer musical beat
and your paint-spattered heart
my bare feet in the grass
pure poetry in my veins

When you let me love you–
I will inspire you.

to dance with words
to spill your own ink
and you will move me to dance,
play with color, paint
with my own vibrant hues

I will borrow your convictions,
your mantras and passions
use them to fuel and alter my own
I will grow and evolve,
sculpt better versions of myself

I will share each and every one
— when you let me love you.