Origin Story

My lips were chapped,
holding back
words I couldn’t know.

But it didn’t matter,
because my eyes still saw

that girl with a sword
who held the key to saving herself.

The heroine of the OG shojo anime, Princess Sapphire, aka Princess Knight.



Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings post at Poets and Storytellers United, Kid Stuff. I chose to write about the TV show that made me an anime fan. Aspects of it haven't aged well (oof, the dubbing... the dubbing) but little Rommy could not get enough of the swashbuckling princess. 

Bless

I bless every knuckle
bloody from beating the walls
caging me,

and every splinter earned
in repurposing wreckage,
so that my children might never know

this hollowness of being
unaware of yourself in the dark.



Song Choice: Dear Theodosia from Hamilton

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, Forward Movement.

Paris and Tokyo

I’ve never been to Paris
but I’ve dreamed

of her graceful curving
streets. I always wanted to explore,

those rues
filled with eye-teasing beauty
and promising something

to entertain my tongue
in its little shops.

But I have been to Tokyo
andoh, 
how I adore him.

His electricity
knows how to delight me.

I come alive
discovering his many sides.  

Every sight makes me sigh
and long to take him in
as deeply as possible.

I only found out much later
I might have gone to Paris,
at least once.

But

it might have meant
I may never have seen Tokyo

and that thought breaks
my already partite heart.

Tokyo is home.
I have no regrets about that.

But there are nights
when I still think of Paris
and my settled self indulges
in an old dream or two.

Photo of the Tokyo Tower by Azizbek on Unsplash


Song Choices: Sakura, Sakura and La Vie En Rose

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poetry and Storytellers United. So I must confess, I've never really been to either city. 😂

Bare

People will always talk
about the pretty perfection
of falling leaves

but hush
when conversation turns
to branches stripped bare.


Photo by Shaojie on Unsplash


Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, October.