Did you know that April is national poetry month? In celebration, I've put together a compiliation of inspiration for poems I have yet to write:
the moment I first heard my baby's cry, the first step, the first "ma-ma", the first open mouthed baby kisses, rocking baby to sleep while the rest of the world slept, first giggle
a heated argument followed by a lover showing up on my doorstep, soaked to the bone after walking across town in the rain to be with me
all the nights I was drunk with love and forgot what it felt to be tired, to need sleep
a sleepless night followed by a long drive on a windy back road, sitting on the hood of the car,wrapped up in a blanket and him, watching the sunrise
a mountaintop proposal, complete with a gorgeous view and a sparkly ring that took my breath away
middle of the night kitchen raids, leaning my back against his chest, having him give me tiny sips of orange juice from a goblet and feeding me strawberries
falling asleep to the rain
a 3AM walk in the snow, hand in hand, knowing that moment that I was hopelessly in love--everything eerily silent, I was sure he'd hear my heart beating
the sound of his key in the lock, footsteps on the stairs, the moment he walked into the room
early morning stroll along the foggy, deserted beach, just me, looking for beach glass, shells, treasures washed up on the shore
the first kiss, the first kiss, the first kiss
the way our bodies just *fit*
whispers and promises
the first "i love you"
the last "goodbye"
all the love letters- words, words, gorgeous words
Do you have a poem yet to write? What inspires you? Do you have a favorite poet or poem? You can discover new poets here. I'm planning to post a few of my favorites, starting with two from my most belvoed poet, E.E. Cummings:
i like my body when it is with your/body. It is so quite new a thing../Muscles better and nerves more./i like your body. i like what it does,/i like its hows. I like to feel the spine/of your body and its bones, and the trembling/-firm-smooth ness and which i will/again and again and again/kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,/i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz/of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes/over parting flesh...And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
the first of all my dreams was of/a lover and his only love,/strolling slowly (mind in mind)/through some green mysterious land
until my second dream begins-/the sky is wild with leaves;which dance/and dancing swoop(and swooping whirl/over a frightened boy and girl)
but that mere fury soon became/silence:in hunger always whom/two tiny selves sleep(doll by doll)/motionless under magical
foreverfully falling snow./And then this dreamer wept:and so/she quickly dreamed a dream of spring/-how you and i are blossoming

Comments