We need new mantras –
new voices of conviction.
We are not playing.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 12 – Writer’s Digest (Day 12: 6-word poem [were given 6 words from which to choose at least 3 to include in the poem])
She’ll never slice me,
squeeze, or zest me, if you just
sketch me a sweet face.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 9 – Writer’s Digest (Day 9: Write a PERSONA poem)
You are a lightyear.
I, millions of light seconds,
lined up and waiting.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 8 – Writer’s Digest (Day 4: Write a Metaphor poem).
Words may speak comfort
to the wounded. But, more so,
a shoulder. A tear.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 3: Write a Communication poem).
She carried her King –
Prince of Peace, and Lord of all,
while suckling her foal.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
“Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.” ~ Matthew 21:1-5
scattered furniture
what used to be here, now there
drop cloths and paint fumes
jazz notes billowing
rollers, brushes, straight edges –
that man God gave me
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
When the time comes to branch out, we mustn’t fear going out on a limb.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
This year destroyed us.
I’ll never be convinced that
We can survive this.
There’s no going back.
I know it. So don’t tell me
Better times will come.
God no longer cares.
Hear me. Do not believe that
God is in control.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
This poem is 3 stanzas. Each stanza has 17-syllables (5/7/5). This is my first ever attempt at a Reverse format poem. (Read the poem from the top line, down … and then read it from the bottom line, up.)
Then, after four years,
the child they’d nurtured as theirs
returned to birth mom.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
It was actually shy of four years, but no matter.
Some people think I am a kind and caring woman. The fact is that I have not chosen the hard roads … the selfless roads … that some I greatly admire, have. It takes someone very special to foster children. It takes someone willing to brace themselves to get their heart ripped out of their chest. Even the possibility of that happening right before Christmas. I’m thankful for those willing to do that. God forgive me, I have never been one of them.
Sam and Ian, just … just, so much admiration. You bring me to tears.
I. Keith hikes Old Man’s Cave
while I purchase a notebook
and count syllables.
II. I feel sixty one.
Yet I watch older women
hike in their dress shoes.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2019
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