Poetry

April is National Poetry Month and I am participating in an event called NaPoWriMo. It stands for NAtional POetry WRIting MOnth. The idea is to write 30 poems in 30 days. I don't know if I can pull it off, but I'm going to give it a shot. For more information, check out their website at www dot NaPoWriMo dot net.

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The Power of Nature
by Jennifer Clark
(c) April 13, 2013


step

outside

my front door

fresh air filled lungs

soft sunlight kissed skin

down concrete stairs to earth

dry dirt, hard ground holding me

grass crunches beneath each footfall

provokes emotions believed long past

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Hatred
by Jennifer Clark
(c) April 12, 2013

Hatred

rises at the

thought of you standing there

before me with arms outstretched like

I should still be in love with you. I cringe.

I recoil and you advance like

touching me will make right

all the hurt and

hatred.

Anger

rises at the

thought of you watching me,

eyes searching for a flash of hope,

a moment of weakness when you can pounce,

say sorry, and think our lives will

go on like all is right.

You'll see only

anger.

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My living room

by Jennifer Clark

(c) April 11, 2013

Couch and a lounge chair?

Mine are in such disrepair.

Rug, lamp, solitaire?

They're yours but they're calling me.

I'll take them if they are free.

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Hotlines and Help

by Jennifer Clark

(c) April 9, 2013

Hotlines can help, lend a hand, hold out hope.

Ease. Intercede. Slow the slide down the slope.

Lifelines are allies when we cannot cope.

Prevent the next death with assurance of hope.

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Gift

by Jennifer Clark (c)April 8, 2013

Sweet breath, sweet air, I lift up hope on you.

Convey my love across the stormy skies.
Deliver hope to heart and heart renew.
You must relieve such hurt and pain and cries.
Soft wind, take gentle care as you imbue
In tender soul, new life before it dies.
We have not long; you must be swift.
Bear my hope and make of hope a gift.

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Her Name

By Jennifer Clark (c)April 6, 2013

Remember. Say her name aloud. It’s right.

Though heart will hurt and cry and rage and fight.

In suicide, the mind it lies to you.

It says hope’s gone -- review your life for proof.

Controlled by pain and frail from sadness deep,

through suicide she found a sick relief.

Yet denigrate her life on how she died

with words so cruel. In ignorance defile.

The fault’s not hers, nor mine, nor yours. Instead

the blame belongs to darkness left unsaid.

How can you understand her hopeless fear?

Lost hope. Lost light. Lost will to persevere?

Do keep in memory how her life was lived.

Let anger fade. Compassion find. Forgive.

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Dance with Death

by Jennifer Clark (c) April 4, 2013

My body will rot in the ground.

Will I, like a serpent, then shed

my skin to gain a life new found?

It’s a mortal spirit I dread.

I want eternal life instead.

Do I get new life and new limb?

Shall I to nothingness be wed?

He invites me to dance with Him.

Taking His hand to dance, I’m bound

to Him. To the ball I am led.

In His arms, we twirl round and round.

My death, guaranteed, is ahead.

Fear grips the life before me spread.

I won’t accept an end so grim.

I cling to life thus live in dread.

He invites me to dance with Him.

But music beyond does resound.

From the thick mire where dwells the dead

does beauty arise and surround

my body. All terror has fled.

I am pulled into earth’s sweet bed.

My mind succumbed to the sweet hymn.

The light of life from me was bled

He invites me to dance with him.

For time my soul in dark was fed.

Then all around was not so dim.

This side the veil my name was said.

He invites me to dance with Him.