April is Poetry Month

flaming-grill

I love April for many reasons – spring, crisp weather, the sun – you name it.  What’s not to love?  But a reason many may not know about is that April is National Poetry Month.  It’s a time to reflect on poems and authors that give us life.  Or better yet, it’s a time where we can stop and put pen to paper to scribe our own verse.

There are so many things that can inspire us.  We just have to be deliberately mindful of what they are.  You don’t have to be in extraordinary circumstances either.  Shoot, stick a good plate of food in front of me and chile I get the vapors!  Look below at my poem about just that.  I hope you enjoy it and for all of us poets out there, Be Inspired.

Sustenance

Moist flesh
Punctured skin
Dripping red
Berry sauces that tinge of grapes
Smothered layers
Cooked in creams
Succulent to the tongue
Refined nectar
Gracing the palate
Softly fondling the nostrils
Delicious heat curl the air
Waving its vitality to its many lovers

National Poetry Month

    April is National Poetry Month in the US.  Originally started in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets, its purpose is to bolster interest and active participation in poetry, poets, and the arts.

Personally, I’ve always dabbled in poetry.  It is simply a marvelous way to express what troubles your soul, makes you happy, or fires you up.  But this month has inspired me to make it a goal – each year in April – to learn more about another poet of whom I haven’t had the time to previously.  This year I will read Sonia Sanchez.  I’ve heard her name a lot, but this will be my first opportunity to read her work.

In the meantime, I posted some of my poetry below… now you know I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass without some shameless self-promotion!  LOL and good reading!

WOMANLINESS

The soreness of my chest – a reminder of the birth of womanliness.  Momma says they’re growing.  It’s like your wisdom teeth busting through – painful and itchy.

Got a classmate that’s bigger than Momma even.  All the boys tease her.  She wears big shirts and sits with her hands folded.  Those nasty boys all want to feel on her.  They stand by the gym entrance and catch the girls when they walk by.  Some girls go the other route, but others walk into this trap everyday and somehow shriek with surprise every time they’re caught.  The fast girls all wear bras like badges.  They poke their chest out front and their butts out back.

Momma says, Ain’t what makes you a woman, but sure makes you feel feminine.  I saw a picture of a woman once who had hers cut off.

Disease took them.

She was bare from the waist up.  Her head was bald too.  She had a profile like a native princess.  The loop earrings she wore touched down to her shoulder.  The sunken places in her chest were smoothed out.  Then I thought of my classmate covering her fleshly naturalness; how she slinks away like a hunchback with darty eyes and bowed head.  Her shoulders collapsed into her frame.

Ignorance took them.

Anyway, I’ll get my bra soon.  Momma said I won’t be any different, just growing up that’s all.  All I feel is the soreness in my chest.