Archive for the ‘First Draft Quickie Poems’ Category

Winter Quickie Poem

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Winter Quickie Poem (untilted, for now)

When the writer’s laptop crashed, 
she looked at her bedroom windows. 
Grass green shades hung like sleepy eyelids. 
Drapes drooped white smiles 
like snow that covered branches, 
roof tops, and trashcan lids like icing. 
Everything was sweet, but she 
had never noticed before,

and this time when pine tree branches, 
too heavy with snow, nodded in the wind, 
she whispered, “Yes…”

Shawn R. Jones 2014

Haiku

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God is blessing you

when people you do most for

do the least for you.

Shawn R. Jones (2013)

Let’s Pretend We Know Everything

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Let’s Pretend We Know Everything

Let’s pretend we know everything
and carry our religion
like a clutch.

We can carry it when
we wear certain outfits
certain places.

Let’s pretend we are God
and give everyone a key
who is like us

to the door of these
certain places
where people gather

who are certain
about all things
in the universe.

Let’s pretend we are right
until certain people
decide we are wrong

and lock the doors
to certain places
where everyone

is absolutely certain
about everything.

 

Shawn R. Jones

 

Author of the devotional book, Pictures in Glass Frames   http://t.co/BxiNwWRG

and the poetry chapbook, Womb Rain, 

http://www.amazon.com/Womb-Rain-New-Womens-Voices/dp/1599242699/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1337717218&sr=8-1

I Have Danced All My Life

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I Have Danced All My Life

 

If you peaked through

my windows tonight,

you found me tapping

on my laptop keys

in a tan recliner by the fire

with a knitted white blanket

across my feet.

You saw my husband sitting

a few feet away from me,

flipping through Hemmings

Motor News, adjusting

his bronze-framed glasses.

If you listened closely enough,

you heard the jittery fire pop,

sizzle, and crackle within

its brick walls.

Then, you heard me say,

“Fires do not dance,”

as I turned

away from the flame.

 

Shawn R. Jones (2013)

From Cabin Windows

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From Cabin Windows

 

Spider-legged branches

cross orange-melon moons

in lavender- webbed skies.

 

Shawn R. Jones

This Day

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This day is on my chest.

Tick tock heartbeats

chime moments

I have to accomplish

 

something

 

Shawn R. Jones

Haiku

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Through many windows,

you watch my well-crafted life,

devoid of details.

 

Shawn R. Jones (2013)

Our Inheritance

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Our Inheritance

 

I do not see the need  to

dine with Kings and Queens.

I am a queen

and my husband-

my king,

and we prefer

to dine alone.

Every glass – a goblet

Every chair – a throne,

and everywhere

we sleep – a royal bed,

and every place

we step,

red carpet red.

Shawn R. Jones (2013)

 

Author of the devotional book, Pictures in Glass Frames   http://t.co/BxiNwWRG

and the poetry chapbook, Womb Rain, 

http://www.amazon.com/Womb-Rain-New-Womens-Voices/dp/1599242699/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1337717218&sr=8-1

Fall Returns

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Fall reminds me of days tripped over broken

sidewalk bits and wrinkled coffee-colored

leaves on the way back from fourth grade.

Leaves went from green to brown.

There was no gold on the way

to Stanley Homes Village  from West Side Complex.

 

Fall was a return to school where fearful boys

with no fathers chased me home.

I was fatherless and fearful, too.

I was afraid of them. They were afraid of the world.

The world was afraid of us.

 

With all that fear

no one took a moment to understand.

We were just children.  All of us.

Me. The boys. The world.