Category: Poetry

Reality (A Poem)

reality poem by melissa donovanReality

What if you could reshape reality
With words and pictures
Bring people into a new existence
Of your own making

You could make them believe
The earth is flat
The moon is made of cheese
Up is down and right is left

I saw the world flip

Outside where cherry blossoms swirl
And crickets chirp at the stars
The river digs through the earth
And the trees inhale the sky

Lions still devour lambs

This world is real
Even if you’re not

Waiting for the Wind (A Poem)

waiting for the windWaiting for the Wind

All that dirty starlight, I wiped it off your feet
mixed it up with Mercury and put it in your drink
sat back and watched you
drink oceans of me

We were weighted down
with sins that don’t exist
We were waiting for the wind
to erase what we did

I tried to warn you about love
and its fragile, fickle bliss

When spring came, our dreams departed
Our moon was full, our skies were charted
and the galaxy didn’t skip or sink

I might be forgiving
next time you need a drink.

Slippery Fish (A Poem)

slippery-fishSlippery Fish

That slippery fish you see
Dancing in poetry
She is a lie. I say
She is a fantasy
A pretty mermaid beckoning you
Casting shadows across your sea

She is the golden coin
Inside the fishbowl
We all want a piece

Consider instead the chameleon
Shifting her colors, rolling with the moon
She is the water inside your fishbowl
She is the goddess of the sea
In which lives your mermaid

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by “The Fish” by Ahmad Shamlou

Blackbird (A Poem)


She’s a blackbird, chipped and dry
Marble lines: gray, black, white
Face weathered, wings tethered
Beaded eyes, all-seeing outside the light
In gritty squawks
She talks to the night

Laugh lines and rusty bells
Secrets she tells in whispers and sighs
You can fly

She’s war-striped and spangled
Her mangled nest left behind
A mess of battle cries
She squints at the moon and sings
With books on her breast and songs in her beak
She beats her wings
And flies

Winter is the End (a poem)

The Long Wait

Photo: “The Long Wait” by spaceamoeba, Creative Commons, some rights reserved.

Winter is the End

Winter is the end
of all things. It is
frozen starlight
and empty trees
forgotten promises
and shivering dreams.

Winter is where the world goes
to die. It is the closing-up of earth
the shutting-down of light
the endless chill of infinite night.

Winter is when we turn
inside, where fires burn
and time crawls, too slow.

We scrape at the future, but
change is spent; winter
is the end. Yet the world turns
the sun burns, and
we emerge again.