Tag: poetry

A Chapbook of Grief

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

A light brown and light red pen lying on a sheet of lined notebook paper.Instead of torturing you with yet another poem this month, I’m going to tell you about a chapbook I’ve been working on with the goal of having the first draft done by the end of the year.

First of all, a poetry chapbook is about 20-40 pages long. The number of poems depends on how long the poems are. I’m a short poem writer. Most of my poems can be contained on one page. So, in my chapbook writing endeavor, I’m looking at about twenty poems just to be safe.

After my friend and roommate Carrie unexpectedly passed away last December, I ended up using poetry to channel a lot of my grief. In the immediate aftermath, scribbling my feelings down let me keep functioning. It was like a release valve. It kept me from exploding into a useless ball of guilt, tears, and snotty Kleenex (but trust me, there was still a lot of all three).

Early in 2025, I decided it would be a good idea to focus this grief and poetry into a chapbook. Purposely write my pain as a way to process and cope. In a way, somewhere in my grief-addled brain, I thought it would be a good way to honor and memorialize Carrie. She always thought she’d be discarded and forgotten, and I didn’t want that to happen. In retrospect, maybe centering an entire chapbook on my own grief wasn’t the best way to do that, but it gave me something to do.

I do believe that it helped quite a bit. I do think I ended up processing more of my grief than I thought I would. However, I also reached a point where I didn’t want to write about it anymore. I was tired of poking at that wound. I didn’t want to pick at that scab anymore. I wanted it to heal. I was afraid to touch it. I could lie and say that I was worried that repeatedly touching it might cause it to get infected, but the truth was that I was tired of the sting and I was afraid it might hurt as badly as it first did if I prodded hard enough. Honestly, it probably would.

So, I stopped thinking about it, stopped writing about it, and kind of ignored it.

I didn’t look at the poems I had written for months. I flinched just thinking about it. And I put off finishing the chapbook so I wouldn’t have to deal with the discomfort of revisiting that intense grief.

So here I am at the end of the year and the first draft of that chapbook is still unfinished. It’s looming on my To Do List and I’m more uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the chapbook unfinished than I am with making myself finish it. Because by not finishing this first draft -even if I never revise it, even if nothing comes of it- feels like I’m letting Carrie down once again.

I’ve got a few weeks until 2026 and I’m going to finish it. I’ve only got a couple more poems left to write. I can do it.

For Carrie, I’ll get it done.

No Words November

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

A light brown and light red pen lying on a sheet of lined notebook paper.I admit that the title is a bit of a lie. It’s not that I’m not going to write any words in November. I am participating in the November Poem-A-Day challenge and poems usually do require words. What I mean is that this year, this month, I’m not participating in a big word count endeavor.

2023 was my last official NaNo and last year, instead of participating officially, I used November to incarnate Stateline into a novel form. This will be my first November in a couple of decades that I’m not spending my days stressing about making word counts and trying to cross a finish line.

There’s a list of reasons why I decided to opt out this year. I think the number one reason, the main reason, the only reason that I really need is that this year, I’m all tapped out. I just don’t have the energy to sit down and write at least 1,700 words a day. I’m juggling too many things right now and having trouble keeping all of the balls in the air. I’ve taken on more at the library -namely the two new monthly programs that I started in October- which has required me to bring more of my work home until I get things into a rhythm. I’ve also got more podcast stuff going on this November than I have previous Novembers. And, of course, there’s my role as caregiver for my father, which has lessened in recent months because he’s been doing better (knock all of the wood), but still demands time and energy. (I’m actually writing this blogs post while waiting for him at his latest PET scan).

Last year, in the midst of my father’s rapidly worsening health, his hospitalizations and doctor appointments and ER visits, Carrie’s fall and her doctor appointments and ER visits, I managed to keep up with my daily word count. I managed to write my poem-a-day, too. It was a distraction, a little bit of normalcy in the midst of a swirling storm of chaos. Looking back, I realize that’s the only reason why I did it. Well, that and stubbornness, I suppose. Looking back, I can’t believe that I didn’t give myself a break.

This year, I’m giving myself that break, even if I am dealing with far less chaos and emotional turmoil.

Do I feel guilty about that? Oh yeah. Do I look at other people with busy lives and lists of obligations who still get their writing goals met and feel like an absolute failure? You better believe it. But this year, I’m giving myself permission to give less of a shit about it. Will I actually give less of a shit about it? Probably not. But I have permission.

Even if I did decide to add 50,000 words to my November, I’m not sure I have a story idea in my head that I’d want to spend the month and the words investing in right now. I’ve got one idea that I’ve been kicking around off and on for years now, but it’s still so uncertain of itself that I feel like I’d spend 30 days spewing words that ultimately wouldn’t do me any good. You could argue that writing 50,000 words of yuck could help me develop that story, and you’d have a good argument, but I’d just refer you back to the first point that I made. I don’t have the time or energy right now for that sort of endeavor.

Does that bum me out? Yes. I miss having the spark that would lead me to explore that idea. It reminds me of when writing was hard and I don’t want writing to be hard again. But honestly, it kind of is.

So, this November, I’m going to let writing be a little hard and I’m not going to worry about the number of words I write.

I’ll just let them rhyme.

Poem–“Solomon”

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

A piece of white blue lined notebook paper with a shimmer of rainbow crossing it..I regret to inform you that your poetry break is over.

This poem was part of April’s Poem-A-Day challenge, and the theme for the day was “city poem”. I was working on a library podcast episode about ghost towns in my county at the time and decided that Solomon would be ideal for this theme, even if it was more of a town than a city and it didn’t exist anymore.

The poetic form is an endecha, which is a Spanish quatrain form. Lines 1, 2, and 3 have seven syllables, and line 4 has eleven. The rhyme scheme is abcb.

Welcome to Solomon.

Solomon

A tiny place that once was
almost forgotten but for
stories and memories of
lives that went in and out of the only store.

Sweet memories don’t come from
things that last, that’s what life showed.
Buried by a man named Bray,
all that’s left is a hitching post by the road.

Poem–“Tell Me Anyway”

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I regret to inform you that I’ve decided to do a monthly poem. I enjoyed torturing you all with the Magnificent Seven series too much. Also, I’m lazy and I don’t always want to write a blog post, but I’ve got gobs of poems that will never be formally published because as we know, I only write terrible poetry.

This one is from the latest Poetry Month Poem-a-Day. The day’s theme was a Two-for-Tuesday theme. On Tuesdays, the themes were usually flip sides. In this case it was Tell Me/Don’t Tell Me.

I decided to do a triolet, which involves repeating lines and a specific rhyme scheme. It’s actually pretty easy to do once you get the right lines to repeat.

Tell Me Anyway

Some secrets should be kept,
but tell me anyway.
I’ll pretend I heard them while I slept.
Some secrets should be kept,
left under the rugs they were swept.
But those are the best ones to say.
Some secrets should be kept,
but tell me anyway.

Poem–“Mating Ritual”

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

It’s the last day of National Poetry Month! You made it! The torture is over!

With this last poem.

The final poem featured from the November Poem-a-Day Challenge comes from the theme Disguise. I admit to playing fast and loose with this theme, but you have to admit that my free verse isn’t wrong.

Mating Ritual

I pluck hairs
from my face
to hide that
I’m a mammal.
Men don’t date
within their species.

Poem–“Frayed”

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

We’re almost through National Poetry Month. You guys are such sports.

The theme of this poem from the November Poem-a-Day Challenge was Nerves. A fitting theme at the time because my nerves were, well, frayed.

This poetic form is called a nonce. It’s a poetic form created by a poet for one time use. The rules of this particular nonce is three words a line and nine lines for the poem. Easy peasy.

Frayed

going too fast
on black roads
shiny and wet
glaring like ice
hit the brakes
expect to slide
hope to stop
before I skid
thru the light

Poem–“Careless Syllables”

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Good news! You’re half-way through National Poetry Month and my poetic torture. Our half-way point poem from the November Poem-a-Day Challenge features the theme…Poetic Form. Write a poem in a poetic form. Hey! I’ve been studying for this one for months!

Many of the poems I wrote during November were done using scraps of ideas that I’d jotted down. This is one of them. I just crammed that idea into a tricube.

Careless Syllables

I’ve said things
that dug scars
in soft skin

used too much
teeth on a
tender spot

but for me
it was just
a Tuesday

Poem–“Rube Goldberg Revisited”

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

National Poetry Month torture continues with our second poem of the month, which was written on the 22nd day of the November Poem-a-Day challenge. The theme for that day was Machine, so I wrote about the kind of machine I could really use.

This poem is a stornello, which has fast become a favorite form. I have no idea why I like everything lower case in my stornellos, but we’re just going to flow with it.

Rube Goldberg Revisited

i need a machine to make my life easy
the difficulty level makes me queasy
a fan-like device should make it all breezy

Poem–“Hot Flashes”

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

I regret to inform you that it is once again April, and April means National Poetry Month.

This year’s selections all come from the Writer’s Digest November Poem-a-Day challenge. Every day in November, participants were given a theme and best wishes to write a poem. Eleven of the poems I wrote that month were put into a chapbook at the end of the challenge and submitted for funsies. That leaves nineteen poems with nothing better to do.

Let’s get started, shall we?

The first poem of the month features the theme Fire/Ice, and it’s written in my default free verse.

I’m easing you in, kiddos.

Hot Flashes

ice in my veins
fire on my skin
freezing hot
burning cold
maybe it’s love
maybe it’s menopause

Poem–Magnificent Seven–“Goodnight Robicheaux”

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

You made it! The last of the Magnificent Seven poems. You all are such good sports.

The last poem I’m posting was actually the first one I wrote. Goodnight Robicheaux is such an interesting character. His exploits for the losing side of the Civil War made him a legend and also damaged him considerably. While he works as a warrant officer like his friend Chisholm (an odd friendship given their opposing sides during the war), it seems that he mostly earns a living from his legacy and Billy Rocks’s skills with his knives.

Goodnight is deeply conflicted. He’s more than willing to join Chisholm in the Seven’s cause and actually cautions Chisholm about his motivations for saving the town of Rose Creek, knowing that they’re more personal than Chisholm has let the other Seven know. He’s got a Southern wisdom that never fails to produce a turn of phrase for the moment. And when it comes to training the men of the town to shoot, he’s an exacting and serious commander.

But Goodnight is haunted by the demons of his past, of the lives he took during the war. He may be a legendary sharpshooter, but it’s come at a great cost. Goodnight believes that if he shoots to kill again, he’ll die. It’s a paralyzing fear that only Billy knows about, and it leads him to abandon the Seven the night before the fight. Naturally, he overcomes the worst of himself and rejoins his friends. After all, if he’s going to die, he might as well die with them.

It was the scene in which he abandons the rest of the Seven, when he was riding away in the night, that sparked the idea for the poem. Because Goodnight is not a coward. He’s a haunted man. And he carries with him a graveyard of ghosts.

This poem is free verse, which is my default, and the only Magnificent Seven poem I allowed myself to write in my usual form. It was also the only poem that got a significant revision. After writing “Jack Horne” and “Red Harvest”, I realized that there was an emerging theme to these poems and I needed to go back and include that into “Goodnight Robicheaux”.

The overall theme of the Magnificent Seven poems is home. Every member of the Seven lost their home in some way, either by choice or by force, and they’ve all been brought together to defend a home that isn’t theirs.

It’s really obvious in retrospect.

Goodnight Robicheaux

He’s a haunted man.
You can’t half-fill a graveyard
and not expect a few ghosts.
He’s got an army of them now.
Waiting. Whispering his future.
He knows that owl following him
will soon swallow him up
and spit his bones into
the first grave he ever dug.
A grave he’ll call home.