My poetry class is cancelled tomorrow so I don't have a poem for Thursday. However, we did blitzkrieg poems in class (each given 10 minutes to write) on Tuesday that I am going to post. These prompts came from poems that the prof read in class and took ideas from. I have not edited from the way I wrote them in class as they are quick writes.

The first prompt was to take a color and elaborate on it.
The second prompt was more of a rule: your poem has to start with the line "My love is..." and then from there you could take the poem where ever you wanted it to go.

BLACK

Onyx, that is the
negative of day,
lunges at you
as you turn off
the lights.

Ebony, that gets
close to your throat
and scuttles
across your ribs.

Noir that hugs the
inside of the charred
fireplace, too bare
to burn flame.

You're sweet and cold,
as the bleak black,
dark as death,
dips you in
the fathomless sea
to check if you
can really be
born again.

MY LOVE IS

My Love is broken.
I'm not talking about
a boy or a man.
I'm talking about
a friend.

She's sitting on
our couch, tequila
drunk.
She's crying about
a boy, she calls a man,
who she thinks she
loves.

My Love is broken.
She thinks she's
fixed herself, but
her heart's in her
feet and her
brain's in her
mouth
and she's running on
this thing she
calls love, with
this boy she calls
a man.

And I've tried
to talk, we've tried
to talk to her,
our broken Love.

And she's pushed us
away.

So now,
my broken Love
tries to stand,
thinking she is
whole again,
while we sit,
and we cry,
and we try to
fix.

Love from Pullman,

The Blonde and The Bullshit