Once Upon a Writing Class

This prompt is not very new. I remember writing to it at least once before. I wasn’t happy with the result. The poem you see is the second one I wrote today because I didn’t like my first attempt. I think it was nearly the same as the original one, though I can’t bear to start checking that now.

Once upon a Writing class
The autumn went in through the glass
The warm sun spilled its orange softness
All around the silent room, full of eager listeners.

It felt just like one day in summer
When the sun rays somehow squeezed between my eyelashes
Like silvery sparks,
The sun was brighter then,
And I could see and feel the water glitches
hopping up and down and
Side to side before my very eyes

The professor’s voice was dim and pleasant
In its monotony of steady knowledge
Made me wish I had the same steadiness in everything:
beliefs, ideas, expression.
You know, the overall impression one gives away.

I listened to the voice, and saw the summer sun beams
Still squeezing between the leaves of autumn
Not with regret, or a feeling of incompleteness –
Things were perfect then.
© 2015, MK

United in November

That title should actually be “United in October” because that’s when the academic year starts here, and that’s my main reference in this poem. But, since it IS November and this is my original Poem-A-Day month, the title is what it is. Today is Tuesday and as tradition has it, Robert gives two prompts for poetry.
The prompts for today are United poem and Divided poem. Here is the …

United Poem
Every first school day was like a comeback
From another life.

I would shake off the summer glitches and follies
and unite with my old gang
of undergraduate intellectuals.

All of us speaking of literature,
All of us thinking of languages,
All of us living in books.

The total melt-in was usually over
By mid-October.

Occasional weekends would sweep me
Back to my summer time world
Of coke sipping through a straw
Now done in smoky bars,
Everybody wearing leather jackets and long sleeves
Instead of their denim shorts.
Looking way more like real rockers
Than misguided teenagers playing grown-ups.

© MK, 2015

I Know

Earlier today I took time to read through what I’ve managed to create last February and was actually impressed. Some of the pieces were rather nice, irrespective of the fact that my memory over that month said just the opposite. You may check the Blogger blog created on the event and see action unrolling there, too. Click to read introductions of the people who participate, for example. I know, too much clicking and blogreading is no good at the end, for all that is just another method of procrastination. That’s why I prefer to stick to their Tumblr profile.

Day 2 prompt is I Know, and I know that poetry is my thing. So, here it is.

Image by: Cherished Memories on DeviantArt
Image by: Cherished Memories on DeviantArt

I know that knowing less
invigorates me,
lending me a driving force
to wade through mystery,
unlock the window
where blinds’d been fixed
I know not how.

I know that being blind and deaf
to memories
can give me peace.

Not knowing all can save
or bury me.

©2014, soulmary

Collection Poem

***Collections, Day 26, November Poem-A-Day Chapbook***

What I used to collect

were scraps and odds,

small things to remind me

of my loves


Now I see what I have

from you. It’s much.

Most of it

not material.


What I have just fades away

each and every single day

I fade away

or wish so, anyway.

© soulmary

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