I have been writing my poem-a-day each day! I just haven’t been publishing them right away here on the ol’ blog. In fact, I think going forward I might end up doing mini-batches like this one. What do you think?
Today I’ll be sharing my Day 7 poem (Jealousy) (Haiku), Day 8 poem (Lucky Number) (Free Form), and Day 9 poem (Love/Anti-Love) (Magic 9). And if you’re just now finding this collection of poetry from me, I invite you to go back through and read days one, two, three, four, five, and six.
Most jealousy comes
From a profound sadness
And feeling of lack.
Luck has a way of showing up unbidden.
When you ask for luck, or when you think
You need luck,
It is nowhere to be found.
But that is because luck knows us better
Than we know ourselves.
It picks us out of a crowd, in the most
Unassuming way possible,
Tapping us on the shoulder,
And giving us the slightest nudge.
It is not three sevens in a row,
No matter how many gods we pray to
While holding a watered-down vodka cranberry
We only tipped a dollar for.
Luck is the butterfly that flaps its wings
In order to distract you, just long enough,
So years from now you end up in the right place at the right time.
Maybe It’s Magic
Sometimes it’s hard to believe in love
When it seems like all we see is hate.
Hate, and disdain, and competition to disprove
That there’s any resemblance of light.
We kick and we fight and we yell and we shove
In a vain attempt to get control.
But then there are moments, gentle as a dove,
Signaling maybe it’s not too late,
For a small spark of magic that causes us to evolve.