A Pathetic Poetry Kingdom Ruled by Incompetent Monarchs

One time we spent a week communicating strictly through limericks
I won eventually, and was crowned the limerick queen.
Then one day, this message graced my phone:
"Have you any interest in resuming limericks"
And thus began the saga.

NO I do not want

To do limericks and hey

You’re the one who quit

Oh haha I totally thought this was going to be a limerick

What about quartets?

(is that what they're called?)

Well it seems to me

That we thought similarly

(Flew over your head?)

Oh good lord oh no 

You’ve beaten me yet again

One more try give me?

What motivation 

Caused you to send this message?

Please enlighten me

Well it’s real simple

I had fun last doing it last 

But maybe change it

SHIT oh no I erred 

I messed up second like bad 

Can I still do this?

First I didn’t see

Read it like you tried to do

Then I realized

Have another try

I’m not married to this game

But I cannot quit

Thank you so madam 

For relenting just this once

let me not fail more

It is up to you

How you do (but you will say

“You’re the haiku queen”)

Eventually. 

Not tryna be so cocky

Based on precedent.

I reject this so 

Genuflect to me you will 

Yes I, Haiku King

But consider now 

That much time has passed since then 

And my skills have grown

Vocabulary <3

Man oh man do I love words

“Genuflect” is great

In fact it appears

In Aladdin’s “Prince Ali”

The genie sings it

Thank you, you’re quite kind 

And it means much this to hear 

From one with much skill

Are you now for real? 

I’ve never seen the live one 

Only Rob Williams’

That’s the one, my dude

It is in the stage show too

But first in the film

Eventually the haiku competition devolved
We wrote haiku after haiku arguing about syllable count

First line's creative

unfortunately for you 

That last one has six :)

SHOOT OH NO ONE SEC

Actually not panicking

Realized I don’t care

Looks like I’m alone

In caring about this game

Apathy’s not fun

Something interesting

Certain words we chop aloud

In-tresting is one

Also actu-ly

Three syllables ‘stead of four.

Sounds not how it’s spelled

That’s English for you 

Often spelled words do not match 

Their vocalized twins

Let’s accept the words 

By both of their forms, paper 

Or as they do sound

I am torn between

I don’t want to do haikus

BUT: competitive

This is my own fault

Could have ended from the start

But I volunteered

Indeed so you did 

And now commit you still must 

Or crown me the king

And so in that day we became
Monarchs of a poetry reign
A limerick queen
and a haiku king
(who drive true poetry lovers insane)

I can conjure the images

We'll spend summer nights dancing
barefoot under the sky,
packing dreams into jars
like they're fireflies

We'll plant flowers in the yard
for the moon to see,
and free the fireflies among them,
a garden lit by dreams

We'll fuel lanterns with our laughter
and set them floating on a lake.
We'll see our future glowing softly,
reflected in the flames

I can conjure the images
in the space behind my eyes
in the words upon the page
in the dreams I see alone
And they glow, oh how they glow

But darkness shrouds the blurry world
my open eyes take in.
My empty fingers unentwined
as soon as I put down the pen

Climb

Remember when we hung a rope ladder on the monkey bars, and thought we'd make money charging the other kids to climb?
We stood proudly below, alone but side-by-side
Too small to even climb it by ourselves,
we held it for each other, taking turns until our hands were sore and raw
We scaled the building by the water fountain, shimmying up electrical boxes and ignoring the adults who told us to get down
We knew better, we were safe, we were together — who needs friends when you have a brother?
We spent hours in the cabinet above our closet, inlaid with nap mats and the sounds of pretend
Looking back, we spent a lot of time climbing
Now you're drafting
And when I meet your high school classmates, they say being your sister is my claim to fame
I pretend that I'm offended
but secretly I'm proud

to see how high you've climbed, even if it means I'm left behind

twilight musings

Begging the night to stay, I cling
to the dripping sky, gripping the edges
of the black blanket tight
but it seeps through my fingers, leaving sparkles
on my skin. A consolation prize
from the stars tearing free — tearing me —
as they slide. The sun dares to rise,
despite my cries, and I cringe
in the soft burning light, a pink twinge of day
invading the deep peace of night.
A sprinkle of mist kisses my bruised flesh
and the breeze brushes its hand through my hair,
like a gentle caress.
Where is the strength? Pick up the pace.
Blow me away,

like dust in the wind. It's not that I want to die, 
but oh, to drift free, like a piece of the sky

From Beyond

Words itch beneath your skin, trying to break free
Stop drowning your mind if you want the poetry to breathe
Stop shoving music through your ears like conch shells do the sea
Just cut the words loose. But you're too afraid to bleed

Walking in the world, you remember what it's like to breathe
Humanity dances, painting the canvas of earth
In each other's arms, vulnerable lovers are unafraid to bleed
Their smiles and softness prove that they value their worth

Alone in your room, though, you can't paint the canvas of earth
You've no pretty colors; your palette is messy and gray
Try as you might, you struggle to value your worth
And sit there in silence, unmoving, with nothing to say

Today the dripping sky is messy and gray
It's not like the moon, shining silvery way up above
You wish for once that you had something to say
To smother the silence, to fill the world with words made of love

I hope you know that I'm with you, though I'm way up above
If you knew that, maybe you wouldn't yearn to break free
I hope that they find you, my words made of love
And when they do, they hold you, like conch shells do the sea

A Sonnet

I'd rather live in stories not my own
This world is broken; I don't want to stay
Embracing pages and the worlds they show
It's so much easier to run away
It's not like I'm escaping joy and pain
They strike me all the same, though I'm removed
I witness them, just with no loss or gain
The feelings still exist, only subdued
Unless it's love, which doesn't translate well
It can't be understood from books alone
You need to live to fall under its spell
It isn't tangible 'til it's your own
And dreams can't live in words already told
So let's make life a story to behold

Disappointment for Lunch

I staked my happiness
on mozzarella sticks.
Breaded, gooey beauty, 
melting on my tongue
like a cheesy waterfall.

Eagerly, I made my way
down the cafeteria stairs,
oblivious to the chattering crowd.
My eyes stuck to the corner,
where the warmer glinted
like a mecca of savory flavor,
a treasure trove of steaming delicacies.

But as I approached
the see-through warmer doors,
egads! No mozzarella sticks
looked back at me.
The smile melted off my face
and pooled onto the floor.
All that I could do
was mop it up and shove it 

in my pocket 

and move on, 

sadly trudging
through my cheese-less day.