Sunday, April 8, 2012

"Reflections" NaPoWriMo

It's Day #8 of NaPoWriMo. I started this poem with something more Easter-y in mind, but this is what came out. Bandages don't always allow wounds to heal... it only hides it for a while.

By Jamie D.

Was it the way she wore her hair or the clothes she wore
I wanted to be her.
I pictured myself hanging out with her friends
And laughing at their jokes
When she made an “A”
It was like I had some personal achievement

Everything about her was perfect
Who looked like that in 3rd grade?
Every whispered rumor greeted her name
And I the recipient often wondered the truth behind it
Black girls hair couldn’t be that long
So she must be mixed
Her eyes kind of chinky
So she must be asian
She’s mighty light to be black
Only original white skin can look that flawless

Even in size we all failed in comparison
I still sporting an undershirt
and her growing out of a training bra

All my hopes to be like her
To be friends with her
Crashed and exploded
The first and consecutive times
She laughed
At me
On me

I loved every perfection that she graced
And like broken glass I shattered at how
incomplete and unfinished I was
She was polished and refined
How had my innocent admiration
Turned into a puddle of shame at my own face

I wanted to be her

The unspoken disconnection became real
I had transformed from being a vapor
in her presence
to being seen
and I hurt her eyes
I looked funny
I wasn't on her level.
but still I wanted to be her
Maybe if we traded places
she'd see the me
that I saw
or maybe we'd be equals

I wanted to be her.

(261 words)

Friday, April 6, 2012

"May I Help You"

Here's my new post for NaPoWriMo

“May I Help You?”
By Jamie D.

I felt your presence
Then we locked eyes
But not in your effort to pursue me
But rather to ask me if I needed help
I did think it slightly questionable when you passed
I felt a delay before you asked.

In another part of the store all alone
You found me again
Walking pass as if
Knowing I was now ready for your help
We locked eyes again
And it was very pleasant to look at you
Dark, smooth, chocolate skin
And those innocent, humble eyes
And the soothing voice slipping out.

Even at the register I found us locking eyes
In snyc again
No more help needed
No other connection to keep us in the moment
As I pushed through the door and entered outdoors
I wanted to glance back to lock eyes once more
Then I toyed with the fantasy
That’d you’d exit your store to stop
Me in the parking lot
And say, “I’d like to get to know you”
By the time I reached the car
It became real that maybe our eye flirting
Was merely the necessary looking in order to carry out your job
And me being solo in this miniature infatuation.
It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’ve appraised you as
an amateur.

210 words
&copy 2012

9:56 pm 4/6/12

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

" An Apology"

This is Day 4 of NaPoWriMo

I wasn't feeling well on April 2nd so I wrote two poems on April 3rd while at work. I missplaced the paper. Once I find it I will type it and post it.

I wrote this poem this evening. I thought it was funny yet real in the content but fictional in the actions of how it's presented. Let me know what you think.

"An Apology"
by Jamie D.
&copy 2012

She posted the letter to be printed in the newspaper
on her wedding day.
4 simple apologies.

She gift wrapped the article
and stored it in the groom's suite.

She had even posted it with her real
maiden name and included a picture for good measure.

He was all dressed
his heart beat was growing faster
as the time loss weight
for he couldn't wait
to hold his bride in his arms
he wanted to feel her soft cheeks
and hear her sweet voice whisper
"I love you forever"

Minutes before he was about to
leave his suite he saw
the nicely wrapped box
with a big bow sealing it.

His first thought was
to wait
but his curiosity urged him
to break the barrier.

He reached inside and
grabbed the paper.
Immediately he found his fiance's article
"To My Husband On Our Wedding Day"

She wrote: I need you to know these
4 things before you walk down
the aisle to say "I do".

I truly love you, but I must apologize now
for the days we will argue
over who left the cap off the tooth paste
or about leaving the toilet seat up.

I eagerly await the day to birth our child
but I must apologize for I will spoil him or her and all 5
will be named after me.

I have grown more fond of the way your laugh brightens a room, but
I have hated since
I first heard that awful rumbling in
your lungs, throat, and nasal passage
when you sleep.
I apologize that I have
ordered a separate twin bed for you.
We will meet only for conjugal visits and
sleep separately.

Lastly, to my dear gentle husband to be, I
cannot stand the aggravating sounds you make
when you chew food.
When we're at the dinner table
please learn to eat with your mouth closed.
I apologize for signing you up for etiquette classes.

Love your future wife.

Written 4/4/12 at 6:15p.m.

327 words

**If you could write your spouse or partner an apology letter for things you're going to do because of things they do that bother you, post it in the comments.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

April is National Poetry Writing Month

Today is April 1st and it's the beginning of National Poetry Writing Month. I have accepted a challenge to write one poem (100 words or more) a day for the entire month. "May it be ever in your favor" *in my best Effie voice*. I will post the poems here daily. I may even highlight a poet or a poem that I like. It will be written on the day of the post. I use to write poetry all the time. Hopefully this will encourage me to get back to it. Today's poem is not a happy one; it comes from a place of confusion.

“This is Unhealthy”
by Jamie Dunlap

This is unhealthy
I wanted to know, but I wasn’t ready for the response.
I would have rather the question to go unanswered
and I fill in my own assumption that eased my mind
this is unhealthy.

I trashed every tangible picture, card, or text that you sent me
But there is not an eraser big enough to remove
the imprints
in my heart
or the spaces
taken up in my mind.
This is unhealthy.

When the simple progression of a day
you on my mind
seems futile
when the following day is
inundated with fantasies
about our happily ever after
simply sent into overdrive
from a text.
This is unhealthy.

I refuse to believe
I am not dreaming.
Oh if I were the writer in this story
Rather a character acting out a subconscious
This is unhealthy.
&copy 2012

(140 words)

Written 4/01/12 at 1:07 pm