Spring Insists on Coming

Spring insists on coming.
Even though winter still gnaws
at the edges of my world,

spring will not stop coming, coaxing
life from the seeds
I thoughtlessly planted,

not understanding how fragile
the sprouts’ little green necks
can be, stretching out skyward.

Some will never make it that far,
asleep forever
where even late frost can’t hurt them.

But spring is here
and for whatever it’s worth
so am I.

Photo by imso gabriel on Unsplash

Song Choice: Carry On My Wayward Son covered by First to Eleven

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem in linked to the Friday Writings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United.

Love Letter to a Wildflower

beautiful things grow
in unexpected places.
you taught me that

there is no wall
no cement pavement
thick enough
to keep what is meant to grow
from unabashedly blooming.

at the end of every winter
i search through last year’s dead leaves
and the cracks of suburban civilization
until i find you again.

Photo by Lee 琴 on Unsplash

Song Choice: Wildflowers covered by The Wailin' Jennys

Line Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings Prompt at Poets and Storytellers United

The Sound of Rain

The sound of the rain
feels like a blanket of words
I thought I forgot
under over-strained sunshine.
Lost stories come home sometimes.

Photo by reza shayestehpour on Unsplash

Song Choice: Here Comes The Rain Again by Eurythmics

Liner Notes for this Groove: This tanka is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United.

Words

What's the use of words
when they aren’t really mine,
just lines I'm expected to say?

No one wants the real
ones that have been prowling,
thrashing their tails and hissing
in the warm cave of my throat

waiting for their chance
to run and be seen.

There is a script
for the way things are done.
Those words that were really mine

have nothing to do
but wait in the dark while I hope
that in their restlessness
that they don’t tear my own throat

from the inside out. 

Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash

Song Choice: Words by Missing Persons

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United.

Necromancer

Rages buried,
especially in unremarked graves,
never rest easy.

They claw
out of their tombs,
polite skin peeled away
making you confront the rot.

They rise
bringing the deterioration
of the past to the present

and they rest
only after they have truly been fed.

Photo by Simon Wijers on Unsplash

Song Choice: Zombie Stomp by Ozzie Osbourne

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings post.

For a Would-Be Spellslinger

First, you have to listen
for the under-rhythm pulsing
everywhere
from the stars to the earthworms.

This is where all true magic begins.
Pay attention,

to the ones that help you
not only to find the natural thrum
of your spirit, listen
for the ones that harmonize
with your softest chords.

Now you are ready to craft
music that shifts
possibilities to probabilities,
earning the title of spellslinger
with every newborn note.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Song Choice: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic covered by Sleeping At Last

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for Magaly's prompt at Poets and Storytellers United Friday Writings prompt, Such Inspiring Titles. The first book I read in 2023 was Spellslinger by Sebastien De Castell. My poem has nothing at all to do with the book (which was a heck of a lot of fun and a great way to kick off 2023's reading list).