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2014 April PAD Challenge: Day 4

Categories: Poetry Challenge 2014, Poetry Prompts, Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides Blog, What's New.

I hope you’re having a great time poeming so far. It’s been fun for me, and speaking of fun, I just recently learned about an article on Mashable that listed me and more than 30 other “gifted poets” on Twitter. It’s a nice starter list, though there are so many others who are worth connecting with and following. Click here to read the article. And if you’re not already, you can follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Since (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “Since the Last Time I Smoked,” “Since You Said Please,” and “Since When.”


Since we don’t workshop poems…

…you may be interested in getting feedback on your poetry.

Click here to learn more.


Here’s my attempt at a Since Blank poem:

“since my last selfie”

the angles have become more dramatic
& the lighting more dim i always think
the last cheeseburger is last cheeseburger
each bite severs yet another synapse

there was a time i felt comfortable
in my own skin but then again i guess
that would be a lie like this digital
shot trying to look more hot than i ought

i’ve always been prufrock before i was
prufrock & the ticking clock never mocks
as much as it marks the status updates
& bizarre diets i still need to try


Today’s guest judge is…

Vince Gotera

Vince Gotera

Vince Gotera

Vince is the author of Fighting Kite, Ghost Wars, and other poetry collections, including the forthcoming Pacific Crossing. He also published the lit-crit book Radical Visions: Poetry by Vietnam Veterans. Vince is Editor of the North American Review and also professor of English at the University of Northern Iowa.

Vince’s work has appeared in Ploughshares, Amerasia, The Kenyon Review, The Asian Pacific American Journal, Zone 3, and other magazines, as well as in anthologies like Tilting the Continent: Southeast Asian American Writing and Contemporary Fiction by Filipinos in America.

Favorite color? Any flavor of blue—aquamarine, cobalt, sky, robin’s-egg.

Learn more here: http://vincegotera.blogspot.com.


PYHO_Small_200x200Poem Your Heart Out

Poems, Prompts & Room to Add Your Own for the 2014 April PAD Challenge!

Words Dance Publishing is offering 20% off pre-orders for the Poem Your Heart Out anthology until May 1st! If you’d like to learn a bit more about our vision for the book, when it will be published, among other details.

Click to continue.


Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems. He’s been writing poetry since he was a teenager. Learn more about him here: http://www.robertleebrewer.com/.


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About Robert Lee Brewer

Senior Content Editor, Writer's Digest Community.

876 Responses to 2014 April PAD Challenge: Day 4

  1. IndiFox says:

    Since Then

    Many days have passed
    Since our last touch
    I hold that spot
    With a heavy heart
    It burns down to my bones
    And into my soul
    The very core of my being
    Is yours

  2. Mickie Lynn says:

    Since I Started Writing Poetry

    I pay closer attention
    to colors, sounds, and feelings-
    that surround, that pervade
    the senses
    like the air that I breathe.

    I always have a notebook,
    to jot snippets, phrases, the gems
    that rise to the surface
    of my thoughts
    like bubbles in fresh champagne.

    I meet creative people:
    artists, musician, and such
    that show what is possible
    when the mind
    is a bird free to fly.

    I am inspired to live.

  3. ToniBee3 says:

    “Since I Found That Hundred Dollar Bill”

    I attempted to trick my mind into
    thinking that it was nonexistent
    by hiding it in the most inaccessible
    “just in case” compartment of my
    billfold since every woman should
    always have an emergency stash
    on her just in case, you know,
    an “emergency” arises.

    Somehow or another this dead
    president ingrained in my
    conscience bellowed from its
    leather vault moving me to
    splurge on Starbucks and donuts
    and earrings and fashions…
    diminishing my Benjamin to
    only seventy-seven cents.

  4. bxpoetlover says:

    Since I Have Been There Before

    you had better listen. Cover up
    when boys come over. They shall not see
    the inside of your bedroom.

    When grown men approach you on the street
    look straight ahead and don’t smile,
    even if they say you should.
    If they persist, scream loud and long. Run.

    No sexual innuendos in texts, ever,
    even if he is your friend. No pouty selfies or nude pics.
    Technology makes the written word or image last forever.

    Before you kiss a boy you like
    bring him home. Let us look him in the eye
    and ask about his hopes and dreams.

    Read. Think. Keep learning new languages.
    Travel. Share much with friends and family but keep a journal.
    Women need not reveal all, to all.

    Above all, sex is best under the shelter
    of love and commitment.
    Don’t bring us any babies before you graduate–
    From graduate school.

    Girl, you better listen.
    I have been there before.

  5. ASperryConnors says:

    how many years has it been since Jubilee
    since your travels brought you close to me
    when sincere lashes swept the hours
    since the sun rose and set among spring flowers
    since God answered me in my trial
    he has been with me ever since
    it was assumed I was unavailable since
    i veiled my face and shyly winced
    i’ve never seen your blue-eyes since
    no signs or wonders has there been
    since moses since noah since the savior
    since there’s never been a day like that
    never before or since…

  6. TuLife says:

    “Since We Last Kissed (A dedication to fallen loved ones)”
    By: Tuere Aisha

    I dreamed the day
    The Late and Living reunited.
    In my dream, all hearts celebrated.
    But in reality, celebration was confiscated
    For distress had reared its vile head.
    So I mused over what to say…

    “Times changed since we last kissed.
    How I desire to share memoirs that tickle the ears!
    But I’ve had so many bad days…
    So many bad days while you were off a ways
    Resting your heads these last few years.
    Peace, please! Here’s what you missed:

    “Resentment and malice,
    Camaraderie fizzed out.
    I tried to recall what you taught me –
    That love was the key.
    But such a standard rarely held clout
    Against a world turned callous.

    “Sad people loaded with failure and guilt –
    Mirrors of each other’s state of mind.
    This passage has been no simple trek.
    So many – and parts of me – lost at shipwreck,
    Products of our own kind –
    Our people, society, and our today that we built.

    Permit me to acquaint you with our youths.
    (May God uplift our young ones…)
    The daughters you knew are little no more;
    The streets know them as Stripper and Whore.
    Our sons play them for sport. That is, when they aren’t shooting guns…
    Shooting… smoking, or guzzling booze.

    “Madly hunted for the contentment I could,
    While turmoil ran pervasive like the sea –
    Broken spirits set in flashy wiles,
    Gloomy eyes paired with plastered smiles;
    Notwithstanding my pursuit, what confronted me
    Was isolation and nothing good.

    “So, please, forgive what I’ve come to be.
    I’d hoped to sport the widest grin.
    Been meditating since our last unfortunate meet
    On how much more favorable would be our next greet.
    But I’ve been prostrated by foe, friend, and kin,
    And there, safely waited, ‘til YOU could, once more, love me.”

  7. Snow Write says:

    “Since there’s been something wrong with the radio”

    Be glad that
    The car runs just fine
    It’s only lived half it’s life
    As they say, still purrs like a kitten
    It has many miles to go
    And years yet to drive
    It runs fine
    Should be no complaint
    But the driver may go deaf
    From the maddening radio sounds
    Unexpectedly popping
    Blaring fizzing noise
    So intense
    Ears are shutting down
    To protect the heart that skips
    Pulsate extra beats out of surprise
    Find the button, turn it off
    Regain composure
    All quiet
    Deafening silence
    The car runs so quietly
    Face the dilemma, try it again
    Maybe the radio works
    Touch the knob gently
    Music hums

  8. bbjzmn says:

    day 4
    Since you insist upon being then I will let you be

    I hope you happy with you new existence

    far be it for me to stand in your way

    now go and be something kid.

  9. Since I Met You
    Since I met you, I haven’t grown taller
    Or gotten much brighter, or loosened my collar
    I’m not twice as rich and I’m my luck didn’t double
    I’d say I’m in just ’bout the same kinds of trouble

    But you brighten my days and I want you some more
    Nevermind all the rest — I’m not keeping score!

  10. Khara House says:

    “since I lost my baby”

    That day I held your hand
    and felt you slip away.

    There’s no going back
    from a place like this,

    where distance sits
    breathing the same stagnant air—

    where forgiveness and love
    build no bridges.

    I remember an infant I held
    once in my arms,

    the weight of her so significant:
    never had gravity felt so substantial,

    than in the knowing
    she was pulling me down

    in the same way I held her up.
    That one day her weight

    would outgrow my own strength to carry.

    From that first moment of baby mine
    pulling away, weighing me down,

    I knew I could not hold you forever.
    How strange to come full circle,

    to hold you once again and know
    there’s no holding on—

    only letting go—only losing
    the piece of you that was always mine to own.

    • hojawile says:

      Compassion for your loss, marveling at the beauty you possess, expressed in this poem of
      loving enough to let go, to feel the pain without letting it embitter you and keep you from expressing it and encouraging others that they are not alone

  11. IzzyG says:

    Since my Former Life Ended

    How am I?
    Fine, just fine.

    Smile, smile, smile.

    But since you asked.
    My life has become so small
    it might well disappear
    Like the dot in the center of an old television
    Don’t blink, you might miss it.

    Tiny people, tiny tasks and tiny problems
    that loom large.
    Being constantly summoned, constantly loved and constantly on call
    And consistently failing on all counts.

    Each night screaming silently into my pillow
    seconds before I can finally punch the clock
    And take a dream vacation.

    Since then, I’ve been fine.
    Just fine.

  12. blacksnark says:

    “Since the First Collision”
    between matter and anti,
    the universe has been unfolding,
    particle by particle
    for millions of years
    water has risen and receded, wrought stone and sand,
    stars have burned quietly away
    life exists on one tiny planet in a galaxy
    among others, and I,
    utterly unremarkable, am but a speck
    merciless against gravity,
    careening minute by Earth minute
    to the ground, where I land
    without sound,
    failing to matter.

  13. Snowqueen says:

    “Since they don’t seem to get it”

    Let’s review.

    Those on the highway are the existing traffic and have the right of way.

    There is a l-o-n-g lane to merge onto the highway so you can build up speed.
    Don’t meander onto the highway, forcing existing traffic to slam on their breaks till you decide to pick up the pace.

    New arrivals to the highway are responsible to merge safely into the existing traffic. Safely. We don’t have to move over for you – so quit flipping me off, cutting me off or riding my bumper.

    There is a l-o-n-g lane to exit safely off of the highway; so quit slowing down on the highway causing a domino effect of breaking and interrupting the flow. They built them long enough for you to exit at highway speed and have time to safely stop at the end.

  14. Julieann says:

    Since You Walked In

    I wasn’t looking
    I was working too hard
    No time for foolery
    I must keep up my guard

    You came into the diner
    So out of place in your
    Crisp new tux, with high-
    Gloss shoe tips dragging the floor

    You sat in my station
    And ordered coffee and pie
    You tried joking and laughing
    But tears filled your eye

    I couldn’t escape you
    Your presence filled the air
    I tried not to look, I didn’t
    Want to show I cared

    You sat and you sat
    I wouldn’t guess why
    Closing time came
    I said “goodbye”

    You reached for my elbow
    Led me to the door
    “May I walk you home?” you asked
    My heart began to soar

  15. ERavagniCarter says:

    Since the Fall

    since the fall things have not been the same
    all these dark aspects are fluttering around me

    each crying out their superiority

    I tell them: I think not

    to the sound of their cackling mockery

    my claims on supremacy fall flat here

    they followed me down to this place of blindness…

    now long fingers clutch,
    from all sides,
    at a crown
    that sits like a vice

    and I cannot remember what it is to see light

  16. Richard Fenwick says:

    Since October

    I’ve read the book you gave me
    on the terrors of the Amazon,
    recalling how alive you were
    as we talked about Teddy Roosevelt

    lying near death in the bottom
    of a skiff that moved slower
    than a windless day on the river.

    I’ve also painted one wall in
    my house an odd shade of green,
    wondering how many jokes you’d
    make between your laughter
    and a phlegmy cough, your voice
    high pitched from medications.

    And I’ve decided, since October,
    to keep the wall green, wanting
    to tell you it’s the color of trees,
    though you would counter, saying
    green can stand for sickness too,

    and I would ask you, as always,
    how it is you really feel, wherein
    you would smile at me, cleanse
    yourself with another cough, and
    tell me just how green you are.

  17. Since you left
    I have spent months
    looking everywhere for you.
    You have gone to places that you know
    I could never follow.
    I’m sorry that I’m not so strong anymore,
    at least not like I used to be.
    I have been at war with myself for far too long
    and I can’t remember how to be anything but destructive.
    So now I spend my time carving our memories
    into every landmark hoping that someday
    you’ll come across them again
    and remember the way it used to be.
    When it wasn’t so bad
    and it wasn’t this hard.
    Love, you’ve been gone for quite some time
    but when you’re ready
    I hope you know that
    I have covered your favorite towns in maps
    so one day you could follow them back to me.
    -Jaleese Nicole, Since You Left

  18. PenConnor says:

    Since You Taught Me

    I can stand on my own
    keep my balance
    on my toes

    I can cry through the night
    ride the sorrow
    on my own

    Don’t believe I’m not hurt
    by your choice

    but I’m strong I have learned
    both joy and pain
    come with love

    I will heal, and be loved
    honor the life
    we once shared

  19. Chris7BA says:

    Since I Gained Self-Awareness

    I was oblivious to it all
    I had been surrounded by love and understanding
    But then the outside world intruded
    Asked me what I was
    How I was
    Why I was
    And all the questions boggled my mind
    I no longer merely existed
    But I wondered
    What about myself
    How about myself
    Why about myself
    And I wondered why I wasn’t like everyone else
    And what I could do to be like everyone else
    And to this day
    That I’ve contemplated why I wasn’t like everyone else
    I still feel that there are some things that everyone does
    That I can’t do
    Because I’m not like everyone else.

  20. grcran says:

    Since Susan Died
    By gpr crane

    Since Susan died, I cannot breathe
    No thought for future, only seeth-
    ing anguish and a world of pain
    How can I find the joy again?
    She always showed me, super quick
    And ever easy. We were thick
    as thieves, we stole those happy years
    now my transmission’s grinding gears
    I wish to have her back once more
    It cannot be, my life’s a bore
    I keep on keepin’ on for some
    Strange reason, not to be so glum
    I gave up almost all my hope
    Jumped off my continental slope
    Yet I survived. So come what may,
    I live to face another day.

  21. Since I Said Yes

    The orange cones of marriage laws
    have changed from road closed
    to ‘road work ahead.’

    A rainbow of crystals sparkle
    from my second finger in
    next to the worn gold band from our fifth.

    Support weeps
    a sap to sweeten
    bitter blows of the past.

    Hearts of family and friends reveal
    they have been our corner for years
    cheering us more than we dared dream.

  22. clcediting says:


    Since we lost our house
    it’s just been you and me.
    You’ve tried so hard
    to be my brave little soldier.
    But every day
    another door closes,
    another person sneers.

    There’s no pity for us.
    No, not even though I wear
    mourning black
    and you can barely lift your feet.
    We’ve been walking all day
    on a crust of bread
    and stale water.
    Every scrap we own
    bundled in a laundry bag
    once white, now grey
    with the dust from the streets.

    Since he left us, no —
    I’ve tried to be strong
    for you,
    and for me.
    In this world of cobblestones
    and doors politely shut,
    I’ve done my best
    to keep our spirits up.
    But hunger and exhaustion
    weigh us down.
    every day we walk slower
    and you fade before my eyes.
    Your skin paper white
    and your eyes glazed with sadness.

    Since we spent our last farthing
    I’ve cried every night.
    Failure crushes me.
    Why can’t I spare you
    this suffering?
    The rain today matched our mood,
    hopelessness the only thing we feel.
    Your strength is almost gone.
    Must I lose you,
    to save your life?

  23. Evelyn Philipp says:

    Since Spring had Sprung

    The doors swing wide open and
    the rolling, tumbling mass
    pours out along the sidewalk
    and spills onto the grass.

    The tears over breakfast? Old news!
    Forgotten, past!
    Shrieks of delight and made up songs,
    mem’ries made to last.

    Set free from math and Dick and Jane
    to sunshine strong and bright
    Since spring has sprung the days are long
    and everything is right!

    Mothers, Fathers wait and watch
    Then call them from their play
    The class of 2026
    has turned out for the day.

  24. Joseph Hesch says:

    Since Last I Raged

    I never get angry enough
    to fling things or people.
    That requires too much energy
    for never quite righting wrongs
    against me or society.
    Tossing sufficient amounts
    of life’s gasoline on a fire
    for mere flash and boom
    yield only sore throats,
    scraped knuckles and fuel tanks
    depleted of most emotions
    except regret.

    I raged today, though,
    building from ink and imagination
    a geriatric vigilante killer
    of elder home abusers.
    It doesn’t provide the same buzz
    as a good flip-out.
    Done with skill, however,
    it still renders
    an emotional nut punch —
    seconds of hmmph,
    followed by minutes of

  25. bookworm0341 says:

    “Since when… (Hell freezes over)”

    Since when do you have the right to hide me
    From your posts on Facebook?
    Why would you assume that I do not care
    About your life?
    What are you hiding that you suddenly
    Do not want me to find out?

    Since when do you tell me one week
    That I am the freaking best you have ever had?
    The one that made you feel so darn good-
    In ways you have never felt before?
    That I make you feel desired and wanted?
    That I make you feel like a man
    Physically and emotionally?

    Since when is it okay to abruptly change your tune
    And say that you only feel friendship towards me?
    After all we have done? After all you have said and promised,
    Mr. “I always keep my promises”
    After all I have played your nurse and comforted you?
    You lie.
    Your body language tells me otherwise-
    That it definitely wants to be more than just friends with me.

    Since when is it okay, after knowing each other as children,
    And over the course of growing-up together,
    To screw with my mind?
    Taking all that we had, using me to get what you wanted,
    Only before tossing me in the donation pile?

    The answer to that is: when Hell freezes over.

  26. jean2dubois says:

    by Jean Dubois

    Since I downloaded games onto my computer, I’ve become a worthless woman

    I’d rather play Free Cell than
    make my bed
    vacuum the rug
    neaten up the house

    However the same skills I used to use to neaten up the house win at Free Cell

    And I win almost always

    but it’s the dancing lights
    of Bejewelled
    the timed version
    that ensnares my soul

    And it might be just as compelling to win at games as in the world at large

    But I lose almost always

  27. dalepopovich says:

    Since I moved on
    Things have been great
    I no longer feel as if I’m locked
    On the wrong side of life’s gate

    I can feel joy
    I often feel sad
    But most of all
    I truly feel glad

    I appreciate this life
    A great deal more
    Because not too long ago
    I was close to death’s door

    Sadness and disparity
    Day in and day out
    Only make you stronger
    When you’re out of their clout

  28. since I left
    you sleeping
    on the bedroom floor
    I tossed another coin
    into the liquid sky
    for luck, for love

  29. Yolee says:

    Since Your Birthday

    I’ve been seeing mini explosions of your very first day on earth.
    Minutes leading to you, I was fearful of going thru another C-section
    and having the anesthetic wear off like when your sister was born.
    But you were drawn from under my heart and wailed your way into
    an April morning, easy as a chair reclined in light. You were taken
    away to a room for close inspection, then pain came to qualify our birth.

  30. dextrousdigits says:

    Since the earthquake,
    at every rumble
    with the door I fumble.
    Mind-movies of walls, lights, furniture and me shaking
    brings images of the house taking a tumble.

    Staying calm and
    quieting my brain is quite a struggle
    when I want to hide under a desk
    a child with blanket to cuddle.

  31. lethejerome says:


    Since they’ve twinned the highway and we’ve learned the turnoffs
    Since we crossed the border where it could not be seen
    Since the snow has melted, leaving drifts to catch us
    Since we can guess the trees are about to branch off
    Since I only find time to dash in and take stock
    Since there are now more than neighbourhoods between us
    Since you grew a baby in betwen your eight arms
    Since the kids will grow up even when they’re not seen
    Since you live on a street away from our habits
    Since we left the city, they took out the bridges.

    (*The Yellowhead highway is part of the Trans-Canada network; the Trans-Canada highway, going West, branches off in Manitoba; the Trans-Canada runs through the south of the Prairies (Regina, Calgary) while the Yellowhead runs through Saskatoon, Lloydminster (on the border between Saskatchewan and Alberta) and Edmonton.)

    Jérôme Melançon

  32. BezBawni says:

    Perks of Being Alive

    since my u-cord
    since my first word
    since the first step
    since day one in prep
    since I got cool
    since damn high school
    since his light touch
    since my ‘too much’
    since that wet kiss
    since what I missed
    since the big fight
    since money and might
    since my old grudge
    since the dulled nudge
    since my old age
    since a blank page

    since my first breath
    till my last death—sins
    by Lucretia Amstell

  33. joanne.elizabeth says:

    “Since We Said, ‘I do'”

    Since we said, “I do”
    All those years ago
    We’ve had our ups and downs
    Been tossed some to and fro
    But with each stormy front
    We’ve fixed our eyes above
    And held on tight – rain or shine
    Weather-proofing love

    Joanne Edgington Henning

  34. kimberleetm says:

    Since Gingerbread Men Have No Feet

    They cannot try to escape
    the gaping maws of grubby-
    fisted children
    who really don’t care
    for gingerbread much.
    To be consumed
    as consolation
    in lieu of luscious
    iced confections –
    nonpareils of butter
    and sugar-spun air.
    Doughy, footless lumps,
    their mouths say “Oh”
    as they disappear
    down gullets
    longing for more
    than root flavoring.

  35. Reynard says:

    since i became a mom
    my muse plays
    hide and go seek
    with me
    i may go a week
    without writing
    or drawing
    or creating
    i collapse after
    and cleaning
    and teaching
    and peace keeping
    and being a vet
    to stuffed animals
    and a doctor
    to dolls
    i don’t get to do what
    i want
    or what i need

    since i became a mom
    my world has slowed
    my happiness is simple
    their smiles
    can make the sun
    i have been completed
    a piece was missing
    that i didn’t know
    existed before
    my days are filled
    with awe and
    through the eyes of
    i find myself feeling
    i am not alone
    and this is wonderful

  36. stepstep says:


    Since when was not so long ago
    Agility came natural
    Aches and pains were completely foreign
    We were quite firm and toned.

    Since when was not so long ago
    Long hand became shorthand
    Typewriters turned into computers
    Communication reigned as king.

    Opportunity knocks like running water
    There still remains the haves and have nots
    The separation gap continues to widen
    Spinning out of control seems normal.

    Since when was not so long ago
    Some wish the olden days remained
    But often do we realize as much as
    Things change they really are the same.


  37. azkbc says:

    Since the first time you shouted “WOW”

    with your whole body at the Denver Zoo
    when you first saw the monkeys, eyes wide,
    lips stretched taut over your mouth,
    arms pulled back at your sides
    poised to take flight as you leaned in
    toward the enclosure and watched them
    fly through the trees much like
    you watched the monkeys twirl
    round and round over your crib,
    I’ve never said “Wow” again
    without thinking of you,
    consumed and enthralled
    at that moment.

  38. cannon420 says:

    Day 4 Since….

    Since you cannot grab hold

    It’s got its hooks in you deep.
    Countless times I’ve been told,
    “I got this, no worries”
    Lies. Unintentional. To me and yourself.
    It’s getting old.
    Sadly, you mean well every time
    Every time is a guaranteed failure
    Its got its hooks in you real deep
    Reminding myself
    In sickness and in health.
    Decades worth saving?
    Am I a doormat?
    Have I stayed too long?
    Feeling anger, pity, resentment
    There is no trust.
    Needing to be patient, encouraging… positive. Sigh.
    So difficult when our marriage is beginning to rust.
    Here’s my last ditch effort
    Going to crack the whip.
    Don’t hate me
    Right now I hate you
    You are going to be going away for a bit
    You can beat this I know it.
    I’m giving you grip
    Since you cannot grab hold.

    by Dawn F

    Please forgive punctuation. I am new to this. I’m finding it pretty fun to write poems when there is a prompt, do not know why it never occured to me before. It’s helping it to flow in an actual direction. Never put pen to paper for a poem before this PAD challenge because it was always a jumbled mess in my head that I couldnt even begin to decifer into an organised poem. So, nutshell.. very cool
    I tried the Day 3 so far as well. Cant wait to try the others :)

  39. Jaywig says:

    Day 4 “Since …” (Poetic Asides)

    Since We Are Launching the Community Art Garden Today

    Since Art is
    part of the Garden’s
    title, we

    provide it.
    The table piled high
    with junk, we

    make gods’ eyes
    and doiley flowers.
    Cyclone wire

    fence becomes
    more than a border.
    Dream catchers

    cross through to
    food swap, green crops,
    cups of tea.

    The sun shines
    Three hours’ fun.

  40. jean says:

    Since writing a poem a day,
    I waffle twixt joy and dismay.
    The discipline’s killing.
    Though I remain willing,
    Most times, they just turn out okay.

  41. Shell says:

    Since The Day That Stick Turned Pink

    Never say never; or so they say.
    Changes life heaves,
    hits with intention.
    Beautiful fate is at times,
    often pain endures whilst suffers.
    The day I feared most was upon,
    an occasion to end then begin anew.

    Sacred vows vanished like ashes thrown into the wind.
    As if life mattered no more,
    years stolen when moments fractured in some million pieces.
    Thus small,
    never to be seen by the naked eye no more.
    Heartache intensified with every breath,
    burning a hole in my soul.
    Love like no other.
    The one God sent so that pain of loss is bore.
    An angel;
    blessed the very air filling lungs aggrieved with grief.
    An angel;
    granting sanity when chaos demanded compliance.

    Since that day;
    True Love.
    My daughter.
    My light.
    My life.

  42. PenConnor says:

    There are keys to loving well.
    I found them tucked inside my heart.
    There is life in loving, too.
    In truth, there’s no room for regret.

    I found these truths in my own heart.
    Love in all these broken pieces,
    leaves no room for sad regret.
    My heart’s not untouched by grief.

    There’s so much love in brokenness,
    in accepting pain and loss.
    Any heart untouched by grief,
    cannot know full joy in love.

    I’ll not numb the pain of loss.
    These are keys to loving well.
    I will know the joy of love,
    find more life, in loving more.

  43. PenConnor says:

    I can stand on my own
    keep my balance
    on my toes

    I can cry through the night
    ride the sorrow
    on my own

    Don’t believe I’m not hurt
    by your choice

    but I’m strong I have learned
    both joy and pain
    come with love

    I will heal, and be loved
    honor the life
    we once shared

  44. Since I Saw You Last

    Since I saw you last
    Saw the corners of your eyes crinkle when our eyes met
    Saw them moisten when you spoke of her
    Saw the gray in your hair; wood shavings in your beard
    Saw, scotch taped to your wall, memories –yellowed, curled
    Saw you finger them, trembling

    Since I saw you last
    Saw how the light left your eyes
    Saw how your lips quivered at goodbye
    Saw how much and how little was understood
    Saw you over my shoulder leaning against the doorjamb
    Saw in dust filled beam your slumped silhouette

    Since I saw you last
    I cry for you
    I cry for her
    I cry for vanished hopes and dreams
    I cry for walls that separate, beliefs that collide
    I cry for prayers hovering between heaven and earth

    Since I saw you last

  45. Cati Porter says:

    Since You Insist

    I do not resist easily. Facts conspire,
    and yes, my respiration is a little
    sketchy. You say the truth can only
    be told in fiction, but I say the truth
    can also be told in a tunnel, shouting
    down the length, a lens at both ends.
    Seeing is as seeing does, which is to say,
    everything and nothing is open
    to interpretation. I would write it all down
    but the facts keep shifting, the truth
    a moving target. When I say run,
    you better know that I mean, please stay.
    When I say, please stay, you better know
    that I mean really, please don’t, go.

  46. sdwc8181 says:

    Since a Drop

    Since a drop splashed on my nose—
    a single, unthreatening drop at first,
    followed by a steady succession of fellow raindrops—
    I abandoned the promise of a peaceful morning walk and turned back.
    I distracted myself from the miles ahead of me,
    Becoming wetter with each step.
    I allowed my mind to stray
    Into the trees hovering above the darkening path.
    Under the decaying leaves, trampled into the dirt
    Into the breeze of a passing jogger.
    My thoughts wander into a smile at a dog sniffing wet leaves
    And an understanding look offered to its patient master.
    The other musings,
    the ones I hardly dare think
    and wisely refuse to utter
    Descend into existing puddles,
    Disturbing the surface with rhythmic ripples before disappearing.
    I am relieved
    And wet
    When I enter the house,
    Close the kitchen door
    And remove my soggy sneakers
    It is then that the rain stops,
    Chased westward by a victorious sun.

  47. Kerridwen says:

    Since Last Night’s Rain

    It’s been grey all day, but dry, that’s something,
    and the fox came again, to her usual spot, napping,
    Whilst the cats roam around in gardens, on roofs
    Schedule a five o’clock meeting (I have proof).
    They were four, in the front yard, two and two,
    My two, of course, but two extra, too.
    The fox is still sleeping, her babies wait
    For her nightly return, after the hunt’s gain.

  48. mbramucci says:

    Famous Last Words

    Since the words left my lips
    My fate has been sealed
    Like a deal with the devil
    My soul won’t be healed

    Since the words left my lips
    They took my breath too
    Like an old Aesop Fable
    A lie that rings true

    Since the words left my lips
    And cut through my heart
    Like a slow, leaking faucet
    It bleeds in the dark

    Since the words left my lips
    For the last song sung
    Like wretch’d prison guard
    I’ve shackled my tongue

    When the words left my lips
    And I said “I do”
    Like a cold, greedy, fiend
    You took more than two.

  49. Aberdeen Lane says:


    Since the aftermath
    Icy roads
    Nostalgic cynicism
    Comparisons and covers
    Erode and evolve

  50. Deri says:

    Since When

    do people celebrate sports
    with gunfire
    and the burning of couches
    but we get nary a
    firecracker about
    a child learning to read
    or drawing a picture
    or solving a chemical mystery
    than may one day
    save the world.

  51. Mywordwall says:


    Since I anointed my Lord
    with nard from the alabaster jar
    I had been subject to ridicule
    from the apostles, of all people.
    How dare I waste such perfume
    to wash their own Master’s feet
    when it could have been sold
    for the poor’s benefit!
    But, could anything be too precious
    for Jesus, the Son of God?
    Could anything inferior
    be allowed by love?
    I whom He had saved
    from the murderous crowd
    could only show my gratitude
    with the best that I have.
    And if there was anything
    more beautiful that I could give
    I would have offered it
    with joy in His hands
    by whose generosity
    my soul came back to life.

    ~ Imelda Santore

  52. otterblossom says:

    Since Spring

    Since spring arrived despite the snow flakes
    Since I’ve returned to the seasonal zoo job
    Since I’m working outside in the fresh air
    Since the activity is physical and rewarding
    Since I’m surrounded by friends and animals
    I am

    ~ Blossom Vydrina

  53. EbenAt says:

    Since When?

    Since when is this world OK?
    Who said so?

    It appears we just sold our government
    to the highest bidder.

    We spend billions on death
    and ignore need.

    We aid despots and crackpots
    at the expense of our starving
    starving and homeless.

    Mega churches teach that
    it’s OK to be rich and selfish;
    the needy need to
    try harder.

    Why is it that
    any assemblage of more
    than roughly 500 humans
    can’t find their asses
    from a hole in the ground?

    Unless we flip The Big Switch
    we’re preprogrammed
    for self destruction.

  54. Since I Hit Rock Bottom

    nothing’s been the same.
    I’ll never be the same person

    I used to see in the bathroom
    mirror, back when I still had

    spine enough to look, in
    between applying moisturizer

    and makeup. That day, I lost
    everything, and gained much

    more than all eternity: grace,
    from Someone who knows me.

  55. JamesW says:

    Since you asked me
    Since you asked me how I am,
    Not very well, I’m afraid
    None of my debtors has paid
    While my creditors are calling
    I have a nagging bit of headache
    Just realized some of my friends are fake
    And my only decent shoe pinches at the little toe

    Since you said- ‘how are you?’
    My bones creak in the mornings
    And the vasectomy failed
    The wife is pregnant again!
    My children are not talking to me
    And I think I have a touch of the gout
    And my annoying mother thinks my wife sits on me

    My boss looks at me suspiciously
    I did take some photocopier paper for my children’s homework
    I wrote paid on a fundraiser form and didn’t give
    My maize field is stunted from lack of rain
    And a beautiful woman wants to borrow money
    I wonder if God remembers me,
    I am only telling you this since you asked me how I am

  56. anneemcwilliams says:


    A chain saw filters through the walls of our house;
    every time it rev’s, my cats run and hide. Cloud cover,
    like sacks of goose-down, are propped here and there.
    Birds chatter at feeders swinging slowly in a southern wind.

    I’m interested in anything. Rose canes weaving
    and scraping at the air. Asparagus crowns tipping.
    I’ve walked to the back of our property line
    where I am surprised by a big white bunny
    sitting in water without a care. I was thinking
    about places to set a live trap for a cat
    whose tracks I saw in snow last season.

    Who expects to find a lost house rabbit in a
    2 inch deep puddle? Consider the implications.
    A place where poofy clouds decorate the sky,
    where someone is eating or opening a window
    or cutting fire wood, someone else, walking along,
    finds muddy bunnies, hungry calico footprints
    …as if in any moment there’d be solutions…
    like where to find an airplane that fell into an ocean

    first draft 04/04/2014

  57. PatsC says:


    Since the tree fell,
    In a storm of ice.
    My front window view,
    Broken for a lifetime.

    The lawn recoiled,
    To receive evergreen boughs.
    My life on display,
    Shattered and new.

    Spring beckons,
    The strangeness of flowing sap.
    The dream of growth,
    Betrayed and removed.

    Cutting away debris,
    The neighborscape,
    Ever present.
    Mocking and enchanting.

  58. “Since you’ve left,”

    I imagine you out there
    on a crowded street,
    drunk, and looking for
    any way to rid of my memory
    from your mind, your heart,
    your worn out skin.
    But let me tell you, baby,
    that no one wants to be
    the thing that temporarily
    fills the void in your chest.
    And even if that beautiful boy
    was able to whisper promises
    of healing in your ear,
    he will have already forgotten
    your name, and what it is
    that he came over for,
    by the morning.

    – Colleen Brown

  59. madeline40 says:

    Since Sunday
    I’m not the same.
    I’m wounded, hurt, bleeding.
    My heart is broken into bits.

    Since Sunday
    My life has been blown apart
    and I don’t see how
    it can be put back together
    or even healed

    Since Sunday
    I’m going to have to get used to
    a new normal for my life,
    a life without my son in it
    because his wife
    says she will never ever
    see me again.

  60. Pengame30 says:

    “Since I’m Invisible”

    Unheard and unseen, I scream and your hear nothing.
    I jump around, arms flailing and lungs failing,
    but your minds eye is blind.
    You gulp down a tonic and go digging through your wallet.
    Offer your friend a drink, but what about me?
    Can I sip on some vodka too please?
    The sheets soak in plasma from freshly slit wrists,
    and you snuggle up beside my cold corpse as nothing is amiss.

    Written By: Sean Drew

  61. ianchandler says:

    Since I Crashed My Car Into a Tree

    my mother has not reminded me about my phone bill.
    she has not told me to wash the dishes
    and even offered to make me dinner.
    it was steak and garlic potatoes,
    and it tasted like a postcard.
    she used to crumple up junk mail
    but now I find her folding it neatly
    mathematically right geometry
    and almost placing it in the garbage can.
    she has not frowned at my girlfriend
    when she comes over to study.
    my mother offers us tea
    we take it
    and it is rebirth-flavored oolong
    hoping we will be around longer
    linger to lick the leaves
    and settle in the bottom of the cup.
    my mother walks more slowly now
    like an epidemic.
    she has spent most of her time on the window seat
    glancing at the hostas
    with her hand on her cheek
    and has not told me
    to get my life together.

  62. WCWiley says:

    Since That Day

    I haven’t been the same since that day
    You know the one when you swept in
    And one look took my breath away
    It’s all I can do to keep my head about
    The love I feel makes me sing and shout
    Life is as simple as a child at play
    Everything in my world is perfect again
    Because you’ve been in it since that day

  63. Dan Collins says:

    Day 4:


    along the river
    a wind of cedar starlight
    makes the lanterns moan

  64. Dan Collins says:



    along the river
    a wind of cedar starlight
    makes the lanterns moan

  65. Since August 29th

    Between the world and
    I there is a lacy veil.
    Put there to protect.
    It seems I always fail when
    it comes to the heart and love.

  66. Rosie Red says:

    since we’re here let’s speak the unspoken
    let’s talk about society and where humanity is going
    let’s talk about how democracy is a joke
    or how making 8.25 is a component in the cycle of being broke
    let’s speak upon culture
    how America is one build with stolen ideas and watered with blood
    how immigrants build america even though their names were dragged through the mud
    let’s converse about race and how it doesn’t exist
    about how they want us to fight over the pigment of our skin
    when the real issue is the money in our pockets
    let’s say something about sex
    how a woman in a short skirt screams “let’s!”
    to a mans ears
    how speaking about the size of a woman’s ass or breast is expected
    but commenting on the size of a man’s penis is objectifying
    humanity.. it’s dying because people aren’t people
    they are objects in a materialistic world, it’s simple

  67. CLShaffer says:

    Since You Have Gone Extinct by C. Lynn Shaffer

    I’ve been scouting the landscape
    for places to embed my shovel

    sweating rivulets through the dust
    skimming my back

    turning over and over like proof
    the questions

    why you had to die like that
    and how exactly it happened
    your last moments

    both of which are really
    the same question.
    The meteorite entered unscathed
    the ground gave itself to the heavens

    the sun became a cloudy eye
    the mammals asserted themselves
    death invaded at the cellular level.
    No matter.

    Lift look heap after heap
    the piles pile up
    but one layer is blank as the next
    I carry sediment not star dust
    beneath my fingernails.

  68. whitewrite says:

    Ok here goes:

    Since the last little blue pill

    It stuck a little, I’d swallowed it dry – she wasn’t.
    It was hot in that little room -stank of stale sweat and body musk.
    Hotter in the tiny closet that passed for a bathroom.
    Staring at my murky face in the lopsided mirror, water spiraling down the drain as I waited for lift off…
    “You coming baby?” she asked, she was prone, primed and ready on the rickety bed.
    “Once more, with feeling” I prayed as I turned out the light, to feed my body what it was craving even as my spirit bled.

  69. spacerust says:

    “Since I Found You” by Karl Avila

    I never thought that I could feel this way
    the way I feel when I’m with you
    and my heart races
    every time you are near me
    I love you

    I never thought I could live so free
    where the grass could be so green
    and I know
    it’s because of you
    you are my sunshine

    I never thought I could love again
    the way I feel your love so true
    and I know
    Jesus, you’re my buddy
    you’re my friend

    I never thought I could be so free
    I never thought I could love again
    I never thought I could live again…

    since I found you.

  70. jsmadge says:

    Since When

    Since When demands a question, fists on hips,
    Like some forgotten cartoon mother, mouth askew
    Eyebrows caterpilling toward collision
    Waist restrained by apron strings.
    You got some ‘splainin’ to do, missy
    Of things inexplicable: the pattern of pineapple skin
    The smell of green lizards, why you chose him.
    Poke nostalgia: you get bit.

    Jo Steigerwald

  71. SugarMagnolia says:

    Since You

    Since the first time I held you in my arms
    I felt a love I had never felt before
    I knew my life would never be the same again
    While I was uncertain about what the future held
    I was confident I was up for the job
    Knowing I would protect you with all my being
    Teach you how to love life and encourage you to be happy
    Love you with all my heart

  72. AC Leming says:

    A day late, but I DID write it yesterday.

    Since Our War Started

    We haven’t been afraid
    to bring out the big guns,
    the big words. We line up
    in our cross hairs
    and pull the trigger.
    Unleash the pin, strike the powder
    tamped down under our tongues.

    One casual remark,
    and a spark ignites an explosion
    and we’re at it again,
    lobbing accusations
    the imagined affair
    the lack of sex
    the utter indifference
    I feel towards triaging our relationship.

    Amputation, the only remedy.
    Blood flow strangled
    by the tourniquet
    we both screwed tight.
    Better the death of our marriage
    than the bitter recriminations
    I see as our future together.

    • AC Leming says:

      ARGH! Lost the indentations…

      Since Our War Started

      We haven’t been afraid
      to bring out the big guns,
      the big words. We line up
      in our cross hairs
      and pull the trigger.
      Unleash the pin, strike the powder
      tamped down under our tongues.

      One casual remark,
      and a spark ignites an explosion
      and we’re at it again,
      lobbing accusations —
      the imagined affair
      the lack of sex
      the utter indifference
      I feel towards triaging our relationship.

      Amputation, the only remedy.
      Blood flow strangled
      by the tourniquet
      we both screwed tight.
      Better the death of our marriage
      than the bitter recriminations
      I see as our future together.

  73. drwasy says:

    since you left

    three days ago
    I sleep past 4:38,
    no longer
    lock the door,
    & mornings
    taste like

  74. robinamelia says:

    Lakeside Cabin

    Since the puzzle pieces scattered
    and moonlight fractured all hope
    the children went off to their beds

    As the loon started up
    they dove deeper into sleeping bag cocoons,
    whispering litanies of denial.

    Robin Amelia Morris

  75. lionmother says:

    Since I Began Writing

    Since I began writing
    each day moves faster
    and the moments find their voice
    waiting for quiet to emerge
    In words created by the feelings
    I keep inside in a locked box
    fearful if they spill over and
    seep into my day
    they will drown us all and we
    will be left floating in this
    uncertain sea of worry
    trying to bring ourselves
    back to old normals.

  76. Pamela says:

    Day 4 – a peek into my state of mind

    Its been a while since I met you
    Oh Inspiration, where art thou!
    I am stuck in a permanent rut
    Like a faulty engine that just won’t start
    Where ideas once flowed like water
    There now sits a blank piece of paper
    Spouting nonsense in sheer desperation
    I am trying hard to contain my frustration
    When will I write again, I silently ask
    Getting into the groove is no easy task
    Stop me from sinking into this well of despair
    Come to me my Muse, my saviour

  77. Amanda Oaks says:

    Since I Can’t

    When you write us,
    write us into the underbelly,
    write me blade & you skin,
    write us decadent, write us
    into the time you buried
    your notebook at the rest stop
    halfway between home
    & home, write me blood
    & you air, write us into the pride
    of small places, write us into
    the milk dripping from my breasts,
    write me head, write you arrow,
    write us into the wound, write us
    into each other so we can show them
    that we will always make our way out
    hand in hand.

  78. Since When Did I Stop Seeing You?

    You used to fill my gaze but now are just a blur
    Two ships that pass in opposite seas
    These rose-colored glasses are fading fading
    Do you see me or am I just a shadow
    Lurking in dusty corners
    Obscured from the light.

  79. donnellyk says:

    Since I never wrote a “Dear John” letter to my addiction 20 years ago…

    Well it was back in the day, you were a junkyard dog,
    Bristling, snarling, straining to get at me.
    I was trespassing your territory but I was fresh meat tasty with soothing words, naive and looking
    To belong somewhere, anywhere.

    Full of false courage was I. You, a master manipulator, had me eating scraps
    Out of your hand in no time, cautiously, though I was full aware that I’d be dancing
    With the devil by sundown, dress tattered and torn to the bone. I sensed this to be
    A long journey where I would not emerge unscathed.

    I liked the power, learned from you how to devour my prey and make them mine.
    I’d own their soul too. Looking back I guess I had tunnel vision, dark and swirling,
    Could not see how you were snuffing out the bright lights that used to beckon me.
    The years passed, hellish, I was cowering and afraid but I could match you howl for howl.

    The streets were ours now, and we’d conquered many weak souls,
    Looking for a leader who would promise them riches, power over their own destinies.
    We were a fine mix of misfits from a society that shunned us, or so we believed,
    In retrospect we’d erected impenetrable walls and fortresses, we shunned society.

    It’s hard to pick out the exact day you turned on us, went from the respected though feared, leader, to Master.
    Enlightenment came in it’s time for each of us, and we slowed the dance that had become frenetic,
    Looked down at our bloodied hands and saw we’d been shackled, our bodies and minds poisoned. We had Become slaves to you. We pleaded to a higher power to be freed from bondage. We were beaten.

    We trusted you, counted on you, we thought our secrets were safe. You turned on us, starved us,
    Played mind games on us, turned us against each other. Your hot breath taunts left us shaking with fear
    And incomprehension. I am ashamed to say that I hated to give you up, to lose you, I used to beg you,
    Just one more chance, groveling, sniveling, trembling. You stole our lives, our lovers, our dreams, ourselves.

    Rising up through the ashes I joined the other broken souls who managed to escape.
    We paced the dark halls calling out for our very lives then,
    We pace the dark halls calling out for other’s lives now.
    Haunted we are, but free.


  80. Melahlah says:

    Since this time last revelation
    nothing has changed,
    yet something has changed.
    Has everything changed?
    I have figured out
    linear time never retraces it’s steps
    only repeats it to large extent,
    slightly variant to it’s prior familiarities.
    I’ve decided it’s time that must be nudged
    (my time, to be exact)
    out of it’s well-worn path,
    ruts gouged into my walkway
    from use, overuse, misuse
    until it’s a veritable trench
    needing, no, begging
    to be climbed out of.
    Or is it me needing,
    No matter
    as long as I’m climbing:
    varying my necessary repeats
    so they’re not retraces,
    all the while climbing, climbing.
    It’s a balancing act;
    trying not to send the sides
    of my unstable ruts
    toppling over the edge
    into another’s comfort zone,
    burying them
    under the weight
    of my errors,
    while escaping them myself,
    one step at a time.

  81. RavenCorbie says:

    Are We?

    Since we last spoke,
    I can scarcely recall
    My name
    My number
    My address.

    Since we last spoke,
    I have forgotten
    How to breathe,
    How to speak,
    How to love.

    Since we last spoke,
    I wonder:
    Was it all a joke?
    Or is there something
    Something to make this all

    I knew you once.
    But now, I feel,
    I barely know you
    At all.

  82. Since The Moon Died – Amirae Garcia

    I saw your face the night it happened. 
    I felt the stars as they wept for the loss of the beauty in the night. 
    The trees shook their branches as they said their goodbyes and the clouds took back the sky the day the moon died. 

    Every creature on earth knelt down as the craters went up in flames. 
    The birds sang melodies that sounded like “please don’t go” as the dark consumed us.
    All they do is miss you; and since the moon died, all they do is mourn the light. 

  83. tbell says:

    Since the Fiery Crash

    Since the fiery crash that took your life
    I haven’t been able to look in a mirror
    without seeing you, flesh of your flesh, mine
    hangs more like yours with every passing year

    (I am both grateful and mortified)

    the way it did when I was a little girl watching
    you dress after a shower so quick there was no need
    for a towel and I wondered to myself how you got that way,
    skin loose and stretched like a story that would never end

    until it did

    with a horrifying surprise no one sees coming
    and everyone tries desperately to turn back
    the pages of time, give the Writer a fresh pen
    and perhaps a better night’s sleep, beg him

    come up with something more palpable

    than the hero incinerated in thirty minutes or less,
    remnants of you scattered across the highway, carried
    on the wind, igniting the stench of grief
    I would smell twenty-four hours later

    (and nearly every day since)

    as I passed through the place your charred
    remains mingled with bits of broken hearts
    and glass bulldozed into a ditch, an effort
    to erase all traces of tragedy,

    (didn’t they know that included you)

    but like those classic books burned
    for being too raw and real, fire only served
    to keep you more alive, could not
    silence such generosity of Love

    found in a single brown mug

    buried in the ashes and mixed with my tears,
    the memory of every man or woman
    whom you served a cup of hot
    coffee along with your smile.

    Copyright © TD Bell
    All Rights Reserved

  84. Ciel_ says:

    Since You Won’t Remember
    Since you won’t remember,
    I’ll share a secret with you
    I haven’t told anyone
    friends and family haven’t a clue.

    I cook and clean and work,
    I laugh and play too,
    but these are just the motions
    of what I think I’m supposed to do.

    I’ve been numb inside for years
    I try, but I don’t feel a thing,
    no happy birthdays for me
    or joy on Christmas morning.

    In my head I know I’m lucky,
    I have more than I’m worthy of,
    I just wish that I could feel something
    so I could truly return their love.

    I’m not sure what the key is
    to switching back on my heart.
    Is it locked in a pill somewhere?
    Or is a glass of alcohol the place to start?

    I will continue to search for an answer,
    though the path can be dangerous and long,
    in the meantime I’ll keep pretending
    so no one thinks anything is wrong.
    By Ciel Haven

  85. FaerieTalePoet says:

    Since you Left in a Huff and Unfriended us on Facebook

    Since you left in a huff and unfriended us on Facebook
    We decided to act on our feelings despite the fact that it looked like we were going to have to go it long distance for a while.
    The kiss happened and then so much more, boundaries crumbling like cookie monster had his hands on them.
    Cards were consulted the universe said go for it.
    We ran off to Oregon, she was just supposed to help me move, but she’s still sitting on the couch next to me.
    She has shown me hers and I’ve shown her mine and most have become ours.
    We have consoled friends in need and made emergency trips to see her sister.
    She has strung beads and I’ve written poems but we’ve both created something beautiful.
    We went to a wedding, I caught the bouquet.
    I proposed, she said yes.
    We would like you to come to the wedding.
    I know you introduced us, but she hadn’t been yours for over a decade. You were barely even on speaking terms before that day you invited me to tag along with the two of you, to the city. That day was fun. We’d like it to be like that again.

    Dana A.Campbell

  86. Since The Last Time There Was Rain

    Since the last time there was rain,
    I think it’s been two years, but
    these years have blurred into

    Since the last time there was rain,
    I’ve waited to feel something as
    soft or as powerful against my skin,
    holding my breath.

    Since the last time there was rain,
    it’s been clouds and thunder, lightning,
    but I’m just longing for the drops,
    against my skin.

    -S. Monahan
    All rights reserved.

  87. hohlwein says:

    Since Noon

    I have been two of me.
    One drank Vietnamese coffee.
    One went straight to bed.

    One started a poem
    And the other

  88. cbwentworth says:

    Since 2000

    Twin towers crashed down
    and started a war
    Money bubbles popped,
    all innocence ends
    Computers are flat
    and don’t need a desk
    Books lost their pages
    to downloads and screens
    VCRs retired
    and took tapes with them
    Lockdowns in airports,
    GPS in cars
    The art of travel
    has lost its compass
    Smartphones invaded
    and killed the pay phone
    Buttons lost the fight
    to touchscreen icons
    The virtual world
    replaces the real
    Too busy to care,
    or even look up
    When the lights go out,
    can we face the dark?

  89. FlowsforLove says:

    Since it’s just me all alone at sea
    I take full responsibility of my destiny
    As to whether or not I can survive the high tides
    And successfully arrive back stateside
    All the while weathering unexpected storms
    With no one but I that if need be will be the one who performs
    The necessary tasks to stay afloat
    All alone now in the middle of the ocean
    The ship begins to sway in a back-and-forth motion
    I hear loud thundering booms
    Creating the beginning sense of an impending doom
    Lightning follows in the darkened skies
    So brightly that I see dots in front of my eyes
    I must act fast for there is no time to waste
    I pull down all of the sails and ensure that the ropes are interlaced
    Everything I can see I throw overboard
    No need to have anything else on board
    It’s all or nothing at this point
    This storm is going to make or break me at a knee joint
    It’s been an all night battle but I’m still afloat
    The ship has only suffered minor damage but I lost a dingy boat
    Time to set the sails in position again and head back home
    It’s been one heck of an adventure all the while being alone
    I’m thankful that I made it back alive
    Never once did I doubt how I would survive
    Since it was just me all alone with that mighty ship.

    By FlowsforLove

  90. DanielAri says:


    came to a point where one more shot would put me
    underground, and I was lucky then to start a brawl
    I had no chance of winning. Work up in a sick crust
    at my friend Soledad’s place. “Time to clean you up,”
    he said, tying me to a metal cot with thick swatches
    of bluejean denim. I could eat porridge or drink water
    just for asking, but I never asked for the thrashing,
    cursing, and pouring bottle after bottle of rank sweat
    into the pad. When finally, I asked for porridge, that’s
    when Tatter-Rat showed up, a mangy, three-foot-long
    rat, nearly all black with a white-tipped bald tail and
    a nose red as a fresh cut. He wanted whiskey, not
    soup. He wanted whiskey, an ocean of it. His thirst
    was big as a subway system. I ate gruel and drank
    water and rubbed on aloe vera Soledad gave me
    for the rawness the denim had given me; while Tatter-
    Rat begged, hissed, demanded, whined, threatened.
    “There’s a giant, greasy rat here asking for whiskey,”
    I said. “Give it something else,” Soledad said. I gave
    it pea soup and water, bananas and rice, sleep and
    TV. It wanted whiskey. “He’s driving me crazy.” “You
    are already crazy.” “He wants to kill me.” “That’s true.”
    Finally I asked, “Tatter Rat, what do you want besides
    whiskey?” The rat said, “Whiskey. Or at least a little
    love.” Then, when he asked for booze, I’d hold him
    and say how I wanted his company always. The more
    I could mean it, the better the soft drinks tasted.


  91. Last Night

    Since Liam turned two, it has been less
    and less. The gradual stretching and thinning
    of the thread between us. But tonight, almost
    as if he knows, the night before his third birthday,
    he wakes to nurse. He nestles close, a little boy,
    so different from the baby I held
    in the hospital when the nurses would come in
    all concern and abruptness, telling me what
    I should be doing. Instructions barely registered
    through my Percocet haze. He snuggles in,
    the Superman emblem on his top cool
    against my stomach, and I think about
    before he was born, lying in that same spot
    on the bed, watching him flip and roll under
    my skin. In the dark, he is all sweetness
    and softness, silky head of hair,
    and small hands grasping. It is only a few
    seconds, and he is asleep again. In a few
    hours, he will be three. My sweet boy,
    grumpy-awake in morning light,
    and I will remember sadly the night before
    the last time I ever held him so close.

  92. Megaparsec says:

    Since I Can’t Read Your Mind, Mine Is Going Crazy

    Since, perhaps, maybe, if
    Our words were not awkward and stiff
    I could tell what you were thinking
    And my gut would not be sinking
    Each time that I see you.

    I think I might like you a lot
    But if you don’t like me, then maybe not.
    Oh I wish I knew your thoughts for real
    Then maybe I’d know how to feel
    And know just what to do.

    For if you do, then I might dare
    But if you don’t then I DON’T CARE!
    I want to end this raging war
    I’m sick of not knowing anymore
    If you like me too.

  93. since the last time i heard your voice

    i fell in love with a woman.
    i had two cups of coffee and
    one beer. i had a cup of tea
    with a sweet, old man who
    couldn’t hear and his wife
    who is a poet and a painter.
    i spent two nights in the house
    of a woman who was a stranger
    last year and now knows the way
    to hold my tears like a sister.
    three days have passed since you
    were inside me—and i fell madly in love
    with a woman.

    -Fatima Hirsi

  94. brandonspeck says:


    since i moved into a sinkhole
    everybody keeps asking about my future

    as if everybody isn’t already
    living with deserts in their pockets
    speaking with mirrors on their tongues.

    //brandon speck

  95. Holly Lynae says:

    “Since You Left”

    Every kiss tastes like cinder
    they leave ashes on my tongue
    a bitter reminder
    of how long it’s been
    since I’ve licked the flames
    from your lips

    I try to grasp a memory
    of April stars and slow dances
    but it is too foreign,
    far more distant
    than the 4,000 miles
    between us

    I’ve discarded many lovers
    for since you’ve departed
    I’ve never been warmed by a flare

    I still spend my nights
    devouring scraps
    any remnant I can find will do
    I reach for April stars
    and midnight lovers
    longing, longing
    but their hands don’t grip
    tight enough to fool me
    my heart knows it’s not you

    I am bound by a love
    like a dry well in an empty desert
    sometimes we fall into it,
    willing to take what we can get

    Every breath I expel
    in the embrace of another
    pulls my mouth open wide
    desiring pleasure
    but gathering regret
    my mind reels as he
    saws back and forth
    how many kisses
    have you sent to the moon
    while I searched another man
    for your taste?

    We vowed I should not wait
    but I am afraid
    of letting go
    and wondering.
    What will be when you return?

    Mi sento solo, tesoro.
    You have ruined me
    for good.

  96. sbpoet says:

    Since Drowning

    I have grown
    fins & a tail.
    My gills pulse
    with the rhythm
    of waves.

    I swim with
    thousands. My body
    flashes in concert
    with symphonies
    of fishes.

    I see
    with my voice.
    I maneuver through
    of echoes.

    I explore the refuse
    of many lost
    I have tasted
    their heroes.

    In the orca’s eye
    I see my death.

    ~ Sharon Brogan


    That moment with our lips pressed
    a tender buss to stir the embers
    and seal the glow of love’s true heart,
    I had been changed. I craved you,
    savored the flavor of you. Breathing
    through each other in passion’s breath.
    Soft and warm and disarming,
    you were charmed as I was charming you.
    Ever since that night, the moon shone
    brighter, my steps were lighter and
    I was brought into your heart, a
    delicious sip from your sweet lips.
    My hunger has been sated.

  98. msmacs3m says:

    Since Yesterday Morn
    By Sandy McCulloch

    Since yesterday morn,
    Ive traveled a lifetime-
    Remembering him.

    Since I last saw him,
    Time holds it’s very breath-
    A dream held captive.

    Since our goodbye kiss,
    When time and space just stood still,
    My heart just stopped.

    Since love left that day,
    I walk a road much taken-
    Step by single step.


    Since Jesus found me,
    I breathe in and out again-
    Love Everlasting

  99. cmariee says:

    Sense she window shops relationships

    Sense she window shops relationships
    she shouldn’t blame her date.
    She shouldn’t expect commitments anyway
    When consumed by needs that change

    It is she who needs to change. She needs to find a way
    Past the meaningless relationships
    And the texts and tweets she craves.

  100. tuner says:

    “Since Ever”

    Since you’ve gone
    I have witnessed friends gawking
    up at a desolate sky
    the one above the empty field,
    where we once ate peaches,
    the cold, beautiful sea just adjacent.

    That’s me flying there
    cross the horizon
    in the long dark coat
    among a flock of gulls
    feathers and breasts crashing, one upon the other,
    wing touching wing
    darkening the sky
    in endless droves

    Since you’ve been gone
    there’s nothing
    but time on my hands
    eons, eras
    ebb and flow
    cascading endless rivers
    this expanse of time
    vast and roiling
    and me simply swept away since
    you are not here
    there is nothing but nothing
    and everything
    nothing but choices limned against the dark green,
    verdant and blue,
    line up from here to there

    since you’ve gone
    I am content as a clam
    I’m here and there
    really quite everywhere
    that man on the shore
    or sitting upon a bench
    strolling the park
    hands swelling in empty pockets
    pressed against the lining, thread-bare,
    shoulders squared, steadfast against the December wind.

    Happy hours were never so swell.

    Flitting, floating, flying away ever

  101. acele says:

    Since the Summer Nights

    Since the summer nights
    When we would lay
    In our side by side twin beds
    And make up childish games
    Until sleep crept in

    Since the sandy days
    When we would share
    The tent on family camping trips
    And you would keep your side meticulously organized

    Since the afternoon
    When you twirled my hair
    Into a French knot
    Before I headed off
    To my prom

    Since the winter day
    When you flew back home
    To meet your newborn nephew
    For the first time
    And shared my newfound wonder

    Since the February
    When we flew to Florida
    To pick up the pieces of untold hurt
    And sang to Wilson Phillips
    On the radio

    Since the lazy day
    When we waited together in your living room
    For your round belly
    To bust forth with a
    feisty sweet angel

    You have been my sister

  102. Astrid Egger says:

    Since ….

    Since your last order
    we have been running
    low on chervil and lavender;
    common seeds, to boot

    The deer have sneaked in
    through the laurel hedge
    chomp, chomping away
    at tulips and rhododendrons

    Since your last order
    We found stray seeds
    hidden beneath a
    watercolour planting diagram.

    Propped up in your bed
    You ran your fingers
    through the soil tray;
    gotta be consistent.

    Since your last order
    we have brought you
    asparagus, strawberries
    and mint tea

    A red-breasted sapsucker
    Is drumming away;
    a slight tap on your chin
    your feeding reflex is gone.

  103. jakkels says:

    Since blank, you know is a wonderous phrase
    With the power of time itself
    With one fell swoop it divides a life Into times both before and after
    With imperious grace it defines a fate
    Without judging or forgiving or applauding
    Good times lost, or Evil passed I
    t reqards with equanimity
    And the only gift it can bestow
    Is the knowledge of past and present.

  104. Kevin D Young says:


    Since time is short and time is money
    I’ll say no more to you tonight
    good sir. The fish you fed me was indeed
    fair fresh, far-fetched from off the coast
    of Nova Scotia and roasted with a need

    so sweet it lingered on the lips as honey
    drips from off the comb. You’re right,
    sound sir, to think that vine’s good seed
    and all the grapes Italians boast
    most willingly do peel their skins to bleed,

    to bless us, should, in turn, lead me
    to see you blessed. And so I do.
    And so I would, should we agree
    there was no other one than you.

  105. Grey_Ay says:

    Since When

    Since when did I
    start to forgive
    all I’ve ever done

    Since when did my
    silly mind
    return to what it was

    Since when did we
    open up
    and accept all of our fears

    Since when has this
    come to mean
    I won’t always have you here

    -A. Ault-

  106. Mariejoy says:

    “Since I started breathing, …”

    I sing and dance to life-sustaining breaths,
    my ear to the ground, rising to its breaths.

    In the desert, a woman with my face
    though not my name speaks in rhyme with my breaths.

    I was droplets in a stream, tickling fish,
    watching palettes on scales. I gave them breaths.

    A boy from the mountains plays his nose flute.
    I am the strength and music of his breaths.

    I no longer listen to those who said
    “Joy, do not wander.” I leave to take breaths.

  107. SestinaNia says:

    Since Your Proposal…
    from Miss Elizabeth Bennett to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy

    Do not worry, Sir.
    I won’t dredge up
    the painful words spoken
    on both sides,
    nor the manner in which
    they were said.
    It’s just that since then
    there was that letter—
    penned in regret and tasting
    of bread and water, sustenance
    and truth.
    And that incident
    with Lydia—
    how you orchestrated
    her redemption far better than
    priest of father could,
    asking for nothing and especially
    for no recognition.
    Not to mention
    the beautiful grounds at Pemberley.

    So, Sir, if I were a bit bolder
    (and we both know
    I’m much to bold for anyone’s good,)
    I just might tell you
    to ask again.

  108. GirlGriot says:

    Since I’ve Been Waiting

    me she’s here
    singing her blues.
    She tells me to breathe
    breathe in,
    be still, wait.

    She’s not ready
    to play light, loving.
    Winds still cold,
    flowers tight
    still held in bud
    await her warm kiss.

  109. beachanny says:

    Since Fate Took You Away

    Since everything in the cosmos
    came into existence at the big bang,
    Since all matter is made up
    of charged and kinetic particles,
    Since all things can change from
    solids to liquids to gas and back again,
    I have every reason to believe there is
    a finite chance that in some form —
    somewhere across the vast expanse of space,
    we will be able to bond to one
    another again and again and again.

    © Gay Reiser * 4.4.14 * All Rights Reserved

    • claudia marie clemente says:

      this is lovely. one can hope you will be able to bond again across space, though i am fairly sure you already are bound in a way outside of space and time. in any case, i enjoyed the poem.

  110. The King Tut Curse

    Since when is it okay to cling to the obvious?
    Better to back away from broken boundaries.
    Lines that have become dashes— these are easy

    to fall between like the rotting floorboard of a ’68 Valiant;
    278,000 plus miles and still running, just not safely.

    An odometer can tell a lot and it can tell lies.
    More times than not we accept the math. We are

    too trusting for our own good. Then things happen.
    Bad things. Things associated with the King Tut exhibit,

    the curse that keeps taking. No one wants to believe
    the curse— that would be too obvious.

    Michael A. Wells

  111. Clark Buffington says:

    Since I met you life has changed

    Never has anyone had the faith in me that flows from you
    I try and hide my fear at life’s challenges
    You smile and the fear recedes
    The Love you give me sustains me through the valleys

    The craziness and insanity of the world pound on our life
    When the weight becomes a burden unbearable
    The uncertainties eat at my confidence
    Then I feel you shoulder the burden and show the way

    There is peace and joy in life shared with you
    I know the life’s pain and suffering are not less
    The harshness of the existence will intrude
    The strength we gain together will see us overcome

  112. Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Day Four Since Poem

    Since Sigmund Freud Died

    My mother sleeps better at night.

    While lying with her arm
    across my father’s chest
    in a defense mechanism
    just in case
    in his dreams
    he’s driving too fast
    for even his superego
    to control,
    she finally loses
    and forgets for a moment
    why I’m driving her

    But I digress.

    Not to be confused
    with a true deviation,
    but I should have been talking
    about my desire
    to sneak into the kitchen
    and fill my emptiness
    with whatever my mother
    hid in the back of the fridge.

    All the while denying
    my need
    for a banana,
    or a strawberry,
    or any fresh fruit,
    I consume an entire
    carton of ice cream
    until the dog comes,
    and I set it down
    so he can lick the remains.

    But he is slobbering,
    and whining,
    and tapping me with his paw,
    so I tell him in my mother’s falsetto voice,
    “No baby, you don’t need any more.”

    And I come to the realization
    that my mother is sick.

    So sick.

  113. LuvingLife says:

    Since The Day I Lost My Mind

    While contemplating over covalent bonds in class,
    my criminal past came into focus.
    Twenty-one hours it took to realize that my mind breeds chaos.
    Twenty-one minutes I stood in front of the Apple store,
    convinced that Siri was talking to only me through every device.
    Twenty-one years of age is when I lost my mind.

    Since that day, every inhale feeds the famished
    monster in my head.
    Twenty-four hours of oxygenated confusion that stirs.
    Twenty-four non-consenting fires of neurons
    while I try to focus on what’s really in front of me.
    Twenty-four cries for help where no one can hear me suffer.

    *Help support mental health awareness

    Taisha C

  114. carolecole66 says:

    Since I began to lose my mind

    the stars shine extra bright, the moon’s sharp points
    gouge the sky, bleeding black and silver, streaks of mourning.
    We walk out at night, stroll hand in hand the neighborhood,
    look for explanations, plausibility, find beer cans in the gutter.
    You want to turn this into a game but I refuse to bend.
    The world is tilted, the laughter ours. We cradle in our hands
    all we need to know, all we need. I’m serious now.
    Nothing smells as good as your lips, just before they smile.


  115. LaraEckener says:

    Since May 20th

    You drove
    for three hours
    without telling me
    you were coming.
    It would have been romantic
    if you weren’t there to break my heart.
    And still, every day
    I think that I shouldn’t
    have asked you
    if that was your plan.
    Because you hadn’t said anything
    just sat next to me
    and stared at the floor
    quiet, quiet, as the weight
    slowly collecting in my lungs.
    I wasn’t kidding, you know.
    I wasn’t finished.
    Even though you only
    presented me with your cheek.
    Even though you pulled away.
    I meant it when I said
    I wasn’t finished.
    Those are terrible last words,
    so I want to see you again
    just once. Still, every new morning
    I am less and less concerned
    with if I’ll have the chance to.

  116. Since Spring

    arrived so slowly
    this year, we appreciate
    the plumage of wrens
    and sparrows just as much
    as the jaunty cardinal.

    Welcome guests, please come,
    trill, warble, feast at the blue
    feeder outside our
    kitchen window. We’ll count drab
    precious as any phoenix.

    (c) Courtney O’Banion Smith

  117. RAW says:


    She’s the only child in the world
    Trapped inside a siren’s body
    Despising what she used to be
    And not knowing what she’s become

    Her loyalties lie
    Dead and burned
    At the bottom of the ocean
    At the top of the mountain
    At the point in time, past
    Where her loyalties stood
    They lie
    For the ancestors
    That gave her the right to choose
    She chooses
    Every single time

    So conscious of the possibility
    Of being abandoned
    She’ll abandon you first

    Put your fingers on her throat
    And all you’ll feel is

  118. sharon4 says:

    Since It’s Late and All Day It’s Been Raining

    and Andy, my contractor, who was hit on the head
    with an oak plank and who still suffers
    symptoms of a concussion, keeps forgetting
    to come by and fix the downspouts,
    which rage like waterfalls all through the alleyway.
    And since this day grew grayer, cooler, wetter
    by the minute while I taught my literature
    classes and ironically, today we read
    the scene when Lear , having lost everything,
    broke down in the raging storm on the moor,
    while his Fool begged him to enter the hovel,
    and out of the corner of my eye,
    I saw Emma plaiting Hannah’s wild hair
    Into twin, fat braids and before scolding
    Them back to this old, tragic world
    On the page (so mesmerized was I by the swift
    Pattern of hair, the over-under movement,
    which inexplicably reminded me of why I so love
    to revise poems, the culling of wayward words,
    the chaotic spill wrested into order and pattern,
    a weave of mystery and pageant that on better days
    might just be called beautiful.

    ~Sharon F. McDermott

  119. Since I Began

    Past always
    Elite alive
    Twice remade
    Clock countered
    Small hours
    Always circled

  120. k_weber says:

    Since I Am Taking a Break from Facebook

    I won’t know which color I am.
    There won’t be signs that tell me
    which friends like to give
    away the ending of movies
    and television shows.
    I won’t feel obligated to like much
    of anything 16 times a day.
    There won’t be that sensation
    that I can post what’s on my mind
    and everyone will appreciate
    my point of view.

    I won’t need to document
    everything in text or a trail of photographs.
    There will be words to write down
    and I will turn them on their sides
    so that they become poems
    no one ever sees.
    I won’t accidentally get into
    disputes and turn into a dragon.
    There will be an almost instantaneous
    lack of knowledge of the existence
    of bacon and cats.

    I will slip out the back with a singular click.
    There won’t be much
    to say since my words will disappear.
    I will often wonder what happened
    to the Idaho moose or whose
    children were most precocious.
    There won’t be much to say
    because I have said it all before
    and instead of recycling my own
    typing, I will leave them wondering
    if I because a suburban legend.

    –k weber

  121. Heidi says:

    Since My Last Bath in Connie’s Tub

    Since my last bath in Connie’s claw foot tub,
    Constance tucked her shotgun
    in her arm and held two outlaws
    at gunpoint, screaming, “Whatchya doing here?”
    You Lie! You lie!” One peed on himself
    and the other slinked back into the Cookson Hills.
    Connie’s fame grew throughout the valley
    as she heard answering gunshots and dog yelps.

    Since my last bath in Connie’s tub
    stationed behind a bed sheet curtain
    in the corner of her kitchen,
    a pigeon hole of a room,
    in a valley surrounded by walnut woods,
    the chain saw attacked her finger.
    After a summer break in December
    while chopping wood quick before the next ice storm.
    The finger lived,
    Constance lived with her guard up higher.

    Since my last bath in Connie’s tub
    when I found a tick in my crotch
    and I heard her frying up green tomatoes
    on the other side of the sheet
    her radio singing “Oh when the saints come marching in…”
    She poured the old Goldenrod can full of Wesson oil on my head and
    pointed her civil war sword with scotch taped Bible verses at me and said

    Since my last bath in Connie’s tub
    we climbed a six hundred foot hill and drank wine
    out of a hunter’s flask in the deer stand
    while the sun set and the valley cooled purple
    remembering the battles of the past year when
    the kamikaze soldier crouched on the ceiling fan pointing
    his poisoned needle at my heart
    and the lumpy woman’s first and last visit,
    with the blue chewing gum hex
    offered on bewitching fingers and smiling through
    teeth tipped over.
    Constance pointed her ram’s horn at me
    and declared, “Never turn your back on a Kamikaze Spirit!”

    Since my last bath in Connie’s tub
    It rained so hard that we opened up French doors to
    the late October valley, orange, gray and sumac red,
    and the rain rained inside on our bare toes.
    We beat the dogwood rods on the plywood floor thumping a drumbeat
    and we danced to the sound of thunder,
    blew horns and harmonicas.
    A vision of Shem’s school of prophets
    leaving the belly of the ark on Mt. Ararat.
    The rainbow showed us the path.
    And Constance pointed a finger with squinting eyes
    “Watch out for witches vying for the gate
    at the corner 21st and Jacob’s Ladder!”

    Since my last bath in Connie’s tub
    Her hands dug in March compost,
    Marking price tags on Greenhouse lettuce plants
    Mud lines her fingernails while she instructs the winds
    to wrestle the asparagus patch,
    caress the radish rows, but
    storm hard on Jezzie’s plot of spider eggs
    burrowed beneath my fig tree.
    Constance grates her voice over cellular waves
    “Yes, I’m mad at you! You froze up as a prophet.”
    My heart fell out. While on my hands and knees I scooped up the pieces and
    tucked my heart back inside, but not without first
    air drying the wounds in the hot sun.

    No more freezing up
    when I take my next bath in Connie’s porcelain tub
    sitting in the pigeon hole of a kitchen’s corner
    anchored in that valley
    scooped out of the spine of
    the Cookson Hills,
    Where Constance sleeps at night with
    a shotgun propped up
    by her bed next to the shofar, by the
    civil war sword scotch taped with Scriptures
    torn out of ripped Bibles, warnings
    to watch out for Baal at Peor.

    Heidi R. de Contreras

  122. shethra77 says:

    Since Crest Hill Lane

    Since we last saw the salamanders
    (who do not burn in fire
    but dry to parchedness when even shelter
    heats up oven-like)
    and the grass crackled
    weeds popping and snapping underfoot like
    fresh potato chips
    and I hauled all that washing machine rinse water to the hollyhocks
    and we all took three-minute showers
    on then off then scrub then on then rinse
    and watched the ants
    big ones farming large aphids
    little ones farming small
    each colony using their own staked-out leaves
    sucking them dry
    wilting the sunflowers
    and tiny toads hid in the woods
    because the road began to melt
    and you came into the house floppy
    to drape in your chair and suck down fluids
    since we lived in that former cigar store
    with two really iffy undrinkable wells
    unwisely relocated onto the rockiest ridge
    in that whole damn county
    a smear of soil on rocks that still managed to flood
    when the flash melt of five feet of snow washed
    into the basement
    and we thought
    maybe the salamanders will survive
    maybe we will survive
    since then
    here we are.

  123. Scott Jacobson says:


    When you entered my imagination 
    the Yeti that prowl my frozen landscape 
    wandered south to gather flowers.
    My snow storms have turned to rain
    and my ice caps have melted
    and created a polar vortex 
    that sits over the Midwest, thus
    closing the schools that were
    suppose to teach you my Reproductive
    Earth Science. You are beautiful
    and drunk and keep making
    snow angels to keep us company
    until they can stand on their
    own two feet and put on a bikini
    to go sun bathing in Miami. 
    In April we collapse in a hot
    tub and watch and wait as your 
    smile slowly disappear behind
    my mountain top. The air turns
    chilly. And I am so afraid
    that I am waking up.

  124. kmb3 says:

    Since I became a bear

    I was
    Once many things
    To many people
    Classic chameleon
    Sold swampland to Indians
    Anything to anyone
    Precisely what was needed

    But the day they laid her on my chest
    I became a bear

    I remember the first thought
    As I looked upon her face
    It is my grandmother Sophia
    Perfect image in the flesh

    I remember the moment
    The first moment
    The claws came out
    The fangs dripping venom
    Relentless protector of cub

    “None of our babies have hair”
    Said his mother
    And mamas head snapped around
    And she growled
    For six months
    Never forgetting
    Forever snarling

    Years have passed
    And the cubs have grown
    Three now

    But mama still snarls
    And growls
    And shows those fangs
    And claws
    Vigilantly protecting
    The cubs
    Whenever harm
    Or hate
    Draws near

    I never knew love
    Or passion
    Or pride
    Or joy

    Until I became
    Mama bear

    K. Blankenship

  125. shelaghart@yahoo.com says:

    Since Erika’s Birth

    God’s Spirit in you
    Illuminates many lives
    Stars give light to night

  126. Rolf Erickson says:

    Since I Have Nothing

    Since I have nothing
    More to say or do or be
    Everything blossomed.

  127. James Brush says:


    Between prairie fires, buffalo
    and wind few trees could live
    here. The ones that did take root
    and survive grew tall over the grass.
    We stopped the fires, and the buffalo
    are gone. Now fences provide
    shelter for saplings to grow.
    But when I drive up 183 toward
    Abilene sometimes an oak catches
    my eye, a tree, hundreds of years
    old. Settlers would have known
    this tree, Comanches too, I’m sure.
    And ever since I read Lonesome
    Dove, I can’t help but wonder
    what horse rustlers may have been
    hanged from its branches, their legs
    twitching in the space above
    the wildflowers blooming.

  128. Sharon Ann says:

    Since the Triumph

    We won.
    We laughed.
    We celebrated.
    We told our stories.
    We lived in glory.
    We passed the test.
    We were the best.
    We think we are.
    We think we can.
    We surely want to win again.

  129. Lori DeSanti says:

    Since before I could taste

    I knew the salt of your skin;
    I learned each sliver of the
    moon, how to sate a hungry
    tongue. I teethed the doubt
    on our lips and savored each
    breath of honey before sugar
    ever scraped the inside of my
    cheek; but before I could break
    the limits of your skin, my lips
    touched every inch of you, and
    to learn the taste of your flesh I
    first had to read you, like Braille.

  130. Donna_KM says:

    Since I’ve never actually met you,

    Prisoner #193494,
    I am forced to assemble you
    from clichés of that dreadful time.

    A starving stomach eating the body
    from within causes facial craters
    punctuated with cheekbones.

    Sink hole eye sockets,
    a flesh shrink-wrapped
    skeletal frame from which

    threadbare striped pajamas hang,
    stiff with dirt and grime, all that is left
    behind of the men who wore them before you.

    I hope you made it home from Camp, that
    you were not among those who clawed into
    the concrete walls of the Shower Room.

    We are related by blood or coincidence
    of a shared surname, and so, if it’s okay,
    I’ll just call you Uncle Robert.

  131. Bucky Ignatius says:

    Since You Asked

    Since I’m eating dinner
    with Donna who moves
    her brushes from the gut,
    woman of Paris, girl
    from West Virginia, mouth
    with a mind of its own, I
    try to stay loose for the next
    thing that comes. Ever
    since she painted me into
    her life, I’ve learned to love
    the blurry, and that’s where
    the real stuff comes, since you asked.

    Bucky Ignatius

  132. Hannah says:

    Sevenling (Since two purple-black grackle feathers)

    Since two purple-black grackle feathers appeared on my path,
    as well as an intact fragment – the ceramic paw of a lucky garden rabbit
    and a flat palm-sized almond-shaped golden-flecked stone surfaced-

    I’ve decided that the deep-dotted-universe knows me personally,
    it must be privy to every swirling-sea-cresting wave of thought;
    yes, jotted into starry-dust of sky – my dreams are accounted for.

    Cosmos carries me close and celebrates my day of arrival with gifts and infinite kindness.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

  133. “Our real life”

    Since the laundry was washed, dried, and laid to rest yesterday,
    I decided I was an enemy of the sun because by noon, it had
    kicked up its feet, poured a sweet tea or one of those screwy
    look-a-likes and had laughed at me like bullies do.

    I was singing hallelujah cuz your socks had jazzed out of the
    dryer playing kissy face, rolling into each other with no leftovers.

    I was a little embarrassed to pat myself on the back but
    I did until the septic field shook a yellow warning sign.
    I saw it but there was this book in my hand that was
    cheating me out of good ride, the author was a coward
    with no love for the fool so out of frustration, I ordered the
    machine to mash up the darks. In protest,they went to war
    with the septic bombs and by the end of chapter seven,
    the room lit up like a toothless lover. I popped the lid
    and skulled the clothes but my fingers burned off trying
    to save your Twisted Sister t-shirts, which were shouting
    at me, flapping their arms behind their backs, breathing fire
    like a rotting politician. Your pants inched out standing on
    their own like a tall stiff draught stretching in the crooked
    sunbeams. That’s when the sun laughed.

    I kicked it in the shins until I felt better
    and by three I was drinking our real life from
    the pockets, fighting with the poisoned t-shirts,
    stuffing their carcasses into your drawers.

  134. MMC says:

    Since You Found Me

    I’ve wondered more than ever
    who I am. Am I the person
    you remember from three decades
    ago, who clearly lives in
    your memory? Am I the one
    I think I am, then and now?
    Or am I someone else, the ghost
    of all these years who lives
    only as an echo, a heartbeat
    skipping rope to yesterday’s
    forgotten ballads? Since you
    found me, you have the privilege
    of tossing me back
    into the trash heap of the past
    or joining me in some future space
    or – perhaps most difficult of all –
    staying in the present moment,
    seeing if who we are together
    actually exists.

  135. peacegirlout says:

    Since you last spoke to me in tongues

    Since you last spoke to me in tongues,
    I’ve decided to mince my words,
    Newfangle my utterances,
    Constrict my uvula
    Exculpate my neighs

    Yak if you want to!
    Object as you may!
    Unbar your Umlauts and gö!

    Since you last spoke to me in tongues,
    I stopped biting mine.

  136. Laura Romero says:

    Since You Passed
    -Laura Romero

    I can’t count the times
    I have tried to run to you with good news
    Only to be stopped be sweet memories
    And count the blessings of the time spent
    With you
    Or how many times
    I have wanted to hear your voice one more time
    Just to hear my name pass your lips would be
    The sweetest sound ever uttered by anyone
    Or how many times
    Your embrace would be the perfect solution
    To heal my wounds and dry my tears
    Except for the ache in my heart from
    Your absence

  137. flood says:

    Under The Third Pine

    He scattered
    her ashes
    under the third pine
    from the road
    and, even though
    it had been twenty-five
    years since he had
    done that, asked me
    to do the same
    with his.

  138. flood says:

    Under The Third Pine

    He scattered
    her ashes
    under the third pine
    from the road
    and, even though
    it had been twenty-five
    years since he had
    done that, asked me
    to do the same
    with his.

  139. feywriter says:

    Since I was Young

    Words enchanted me
    I devoured book after book
    every spare moment.

    Punishment for misbehavior,
    not sent to my room—
    loss of books

    My ideal job?
    Maybe dancer, illustrator, fashion designer—
    always “and author”

    Now I write
    not quite for a living
    it’s my Life

    by Mary W. Jensen

  140. Alpha1 says:


    Raise your child up
    To stay in a child’s
    Out of grown folk’s
    Out of grown folk’s
    Since you
    Grown now yourself
    Make it happen overnight
    Because a child
    Out of place
    Is not cute right?

  141. Tara says:

    Since the last time he kissed me
    leaning in the car window
    before I drove away
    I have gone on to a new life
    and he has just gone

    Since the last time he kissed me
    I have wished I had known
    it would be the last time
    as I watched him wave good bye
    in my rearview mirror

  142. amaranthe says:

    Since I woke up

    I have seen
    hawks, hills, rocks, and roads
    in two states.

  143. Erica says:

    I grew two inches and
    started getting my eyebrows threaded.
    I also lost sixty pounds and
    gained it all back in my thighs and ass.

    I’ve had six birthdays, each
    one worse than the last and
    got my drivers permit, but never my license.

    I started college and fully
    how badly I screwed up
    in high school.

    I quit my first job, broke
    up with my best friend
    and got a tattoo I immediately

    I stopped thinking about
    what we could’ve been.
    I took an acting class
    and decided to use our history
    as research for emotional scenes.

    I stopped salivating
    over nooses and pills
    and knives and became
    a professional exhaler.

    I learned how to
    open my mouth without
    crying and use my
    big girl words.

    I cut my hair
    and started wearing

    I vowed to never
    wear thongs again and
    fell in love with Michael Fassbender,
    green smoothies and MMA.

    I witnessed the
    trouble of sex buddies and
    their violent endings.

    I installed an A/C in my
    room and remembered how
    to sleep on my stomach.

    “SINCE YOU”- Erica Jeudy

  144. LCaramanna says:

    Since Friday is Casual Think

    Friday comes but once a week
    with blue jean comfort
    and casual think.

    Stroll into the weekend
    with Saturday quintessential,
    realize Monday influential
    eclipses Sunday potential.

    Oh, what if Friday
    came twice a week
    with its blue jean comfort
    and casual think?

    The world would be
    more relaxed and in sync
    since Friday is blue jean comfort
    and casual think!

  145. rewrite:


    the nestbox that hangs from the oak over old-dog graves
    holds three blue eggs, quite cold, as if the winter of birds
    incubated inside.

    Neon-sky flashes – bluebirds skimming grass, our bare-
    dirt field at last greening after so many months of no
    rain. The land always tries to come back, like bluebirds.

    Tomorrow in this nest, there may be four eggs. The next
    day five, then six. When the clutch is complete, the mother
    will begin her two-week brooding.

    In last night’s dream, I tossed handfuls of seed at the bell
    in a broken tower. Strange roses blossomed upside-down.
    Whitman’s lines sailed kites in blue air.

    This is the box where last year I found six fully feathered
    nestlings; not an eyelid moved. Parents gone – killed
    by a hawk? I pulled a baby corpse out by its stiff blue wing.

    The dead heap flickered. One chick came to life, flew
    away. The rest, buried under the dead, tried their wings,
    became blue sky.

  146. shellaysm says:

    Since the Advice (a Tritina)

    Since I accepted the advice,
    held hostage are the words
    and awaiting ransom: my story.

    Where ideas once swirled into creating this story,
    now they’re held under clutch from the advice
    as I struggle to reorganize my words.

    Frozen, stifled, I feared revisiting the words,
    lacking confidence with my story
    ever since the red-inked advice.

    New advice for the story (and my life): Value other’s words but not above my own.

  147. Jay Sizemore says:

    Since I could not stop for Life
    -after Emily Dickinson

    Since I could not stop for Life
    she did not stop for me,
    an open road between myself
    and my own mortality.

    I chased the echoes of her steps,
    a vestigial beauty
    beyond my window’s edge,
    lost to vague memory.

    This window in my palms-
    a rabbit hole, a mirror-
    replaced my eyes with gossamer gray,
    cardboard cutouts for scenery.

    My pace slowed to a crippled crawl
    as the seasons blended to one,
    her footfalls vanishing
    like her perfume in the chill.

    I looked up to see the stones
    etched with names long forgot,
    I felt nothing but exhaustion
    my destination too forgot.

    There’s no lesson here
    except circles in the trunk of a tree,
    sometimes a window’s a keyhole,
    not all doors desire a key.

  148. ChristineA says:

    Since You Fell Asleep in My Arms

    Since you fell asleep in my arms,
    I kissed you on the head,
    wrapped a quilted afghan around us
    and settled in for the night.

  149. bethwk says:

    Since I Gave Myself Permission
    by Elizabeth Weaver-Kreider

    Since I gave myself permission
    I don’t have to ask for anyone
    to give me theirs.

    Since I made my own bed
    I can lie down on it
    just as I please.

    Since I made the choice to own my choice
    I don’t have anyone to blame or applaud
    but myveryownself.

    Since I took my own chances on the rain
    I don’t have to wait for someone else
    to remember the umbrella.

  150. Mustang Sal says:

    Since Time Began

    We’re all on the tick-tock,
    pace making, no slaking,
    go, go, go, go, go.
    breaking only to rewind,
    change batteries,
    marking our lives in improper fractions,
    trying to achieve more than the whole.

  151. Genevieve Fitzgerald says:

    Since the pear I for days let ripen
    to perfect fragrance and sweetness
    slipped from my fingers and the knife
    slick with its juice and my blood
    exploding on the kitchen floor
    To be gobbled by the pug
    and never paired with
    wine and Stilton
    I admit
    I’ve been

  152. pomodoro says:

    Since I Retired

    I keep the woods in view,
    brown leaves on early winter trees;
    notice a rabbit crouch under the pine,
    watch grape leaves darken and
    birch trunks lean against the snow.

    I sort the hawks into categories:
    Cooper’s, red-tailed, sparrow and sharp-shinned;
    hear geese call, woodpeckers jeer,
    cold lean birds light out from the spreading oak.

    Icy needles hit the window,
    wind slips in through cracks in quilted silence.

    I get the moon up,
    turn the stars on,
    listen to Coltrane while life hurtles by,

    keep it all going right.

  153. (This is dedicated to my brother in-law who is fighting for his life as I type.)

    Since Cancer Woke

    Sleepless nights
    Aches and pains
    The throbbing of my inner veins

    Nauseous and trembling
    Begging for what once was
    Emotions rising and brain turned to fuzz

    The headaches
    The swelling
    It’s all I can do
    To sit on this chair
    And not scream and shout at you

    Needles and hospitals
    And doctor trips
    I wish it were a dream
    And I could wake from these scripts

    What can be done?
    What can you do?
    This is what I ask of you

    Never again take for granite
    The miracle of life
    And be thankful for your loved ones
    Stop greeting them with strife

    Your life is mundane?
    I’ll take it
    You hate your job?
    At least you’ll make it

    What I wouldn’t give to drive to work again
    And have more ordinary mundane days
    Plain old days that start and end

    But through it all
    I have seen God
    He has been with me
    And His love has been broad

    I’ve seen God in the people that cook my family meals
    And those that give selflessly
    Their heart it reveals

    Those that are praying
    And remind me I’m not alone
    And those that text or reach for the phone

    Beautiful stories of humanity
    Mixed in this mess
    So much beauty has come
    In the broken I’m blessed

  154. PKP says:

    Since you split my lip

    I learned that blood
    does taste like copper
    pennies and that it is
    possible for you to cry
    copious tears in my lap
    as I hold your hand and
    notice that your knuckles
    are swollen around small
    cuts where my teeth hit
    Since you split my lip
    I dry your tears with a
    dishtowel – suck the
    blood back down my throat
    and get you ice for your
    too fast fist
    and – No, there
    is no need for sorry
    because I truly do
    know that this time

  155. Angie5804 says:


    Since you left
    The dog walks round in circles every afternoon
    There are no more cigarette butts in the front lawn
    Or funny mismatched socks on the floor
    I don’t hear a cell phone ringing in the night
    Or singing from the shower
    The bathtub stays clean
    But my arms stay empty

  156. tunesmiff says:

    G. Smith
    Since you went back to Austin,
    My world has come apart;
    Shattered into pieces,
    Just like my broken heart.

    What you see in Texas,
    And cowboys I can’t tell;
    Since you went back to Austin,
    I’ve been living here in hell.

    Since you went back to Austin,
    I spend my sleepless nights,
    Staring at the ceiling,
    Wondering how to make things right.

    Was it something that I should’ve done?
    Was it something I forgot?
    Is there anything that I can do?
    My guess is probably not

    Spring has come again here to the mountains
    Even though you thought it never would;
    Days have come and gone and I’ve stopped counting,
    Even though I thought I never could.

    Since you went back to Austin,
    My world has come apart;
    So many shattered pieces,
    Just like my broken heart.
    What you see in Texas,
    And cowboys, I don’t care,
    Since you went back to Austin,
    I hope you’re happy there.

  157. christinamcphee says:

    Since I Write

    Who is the muse?
    My quills delight?
    How shall I paint thee?
    Should I conjure up strife?
    Shall you play a sad requiem?
    Crack a teared smile?
    Babble cryptic wisdom if only for awhile?
    Will you stay with me as I stab your fertile ground?
    Words dancing wildly they seek to bed
    A place to land, for eyes to tread.

  158. mrs.mjbauer says:

    April Poem a Day Challenge 2014

    Since I started this challenge
    I have other people’s songs
    Going through my head
    Chicago’s Beginnings
    Message in a bottle
    Since you’ve been gone
    I just want to hear
    My own lyrics

  159. Brian Slusher says:

    Since the end of the world

    I’ve become less rigid with
    my schedule—no one needs
    to eat every day at 12:15!
    And I’m bolding up my
    wardrobe, trying more plaid.
    I even pulled a lavender
    shirt from the rubble that
    I plan to wear if there’s
    another tomorrow. Plus
    I always vowed to take up
    the harmonica, and what
    better time to learn the blues?
    If your house catches fire and
    there ain’t no water ’round
    Throw your rags out the window
    let the doggone shack burn down.

  160. P.A. Beyer says:

    Since The Bangles Broke Up

    Like an ancient pharaoh
    I walked for you
    Like a Catholic parishioner
    I burned a candle for you
    Like a crazed scoundrel,
    I looked forward to every Monday with you
    And what’s become of my life-
    A very distinct and
    permanent shade of winter

    But oh those eyes!

  161. mrnor10 says:

    Since the world began
    Have we always been
    Jealous of our fellow man!
    Have we always plotted
    Could we plan something
    That benefits us
    Until someone gets
    Jealous of us and

  162. BDP says:

    “Good day to stay indoors and read about the Donner Party.”

    –Bob Mackreth, author, Bayfield, Wisconsin, on Facebook, 4/4/14

    “Since Another Blizzard In Northern Wisconsin” (Pantoum)

    Wind ridging snow fences snow ridging wind.
    The winter’s forward-backward same, no end
    to hear my neighbors tell. It’s true. We share
    in this, I guess that keeps us flexible.

    The winter’s forward-backward same, no end
    to stories at our dinner party, how
    in this, I guess, that keeps us flexible.
    My back door’s nearly gone, wood’s dwindled down

    to stories at our dinner party. How
    (to hear my neighbors tell it true) we share:
    my back door’s nearly gone! wood’s dwindled down!
    Wind ridging snow fences snow ridging wind.

    Barb Peters

  163. LCaramanna says:

    Since You Were Born on April 4, 1922

    since today is your birthday
    we’ll have cake
    a card and presents
    a quiet celebrate

    since today is your birthday
    we’ll sing to you
    drink a toast to old age
    celebrate year ninety-two

  164. Roderick Bates says:

    Since Last Week

    by Roderick Bates

    Since last week, so much has changed.
    Earth has crossed the solar equator
    and even Vermont has noticed —
    now my hill is nearly bare, and rocks
    are emerging like shark fins in the field.
    No buds yet, and the beeches
    still hold tight to last year’s leaves,
    that copper yellow glow
    that has brightened the snowy woods
    since late last Fall. But there is hope
    in the muddy roads, promise
    in the smell of loam in the wind.

    The cat now waits at the door
    in the morning, no longer needs
    to be ejected into the drifts,
    and soon the dog will endure
    her brief annual panic
    at not having a snow bank
    to pee on.

    You have already complained
    that the bedroom is too warm,
    a shift from your winter lament
    to the new one which I will hear
    until some time in October.

    Willis wakes each morning
    in hope of one more day
    of running sap, another evening
    of burning hardwood
    and the steaming arch.

    I’m old; I’m male;
    I have grown conservative;
    I don’t much like change.
    But for all of this, for this
    I will always make an exception.

  165. Since April Showers

    Like a tender caress
    Without the touch
    Whisper your sweet nothings
    On my mouth

    Take my hand
    With ne’er a clasp
    And entwined we’ll be
    Like weeds climbing vines

    I’ll rapture your mind
    With honey suckled by a bee
    And transplant my wont
    Too shy for your touch

    Then give a flit
    With a stolid air
    That treads the course
    Of my virgin gnar

    You’ll feel my heart
    Within newborn dew
    Race the bloomless rose
    That cries
    For want of a kiss

  166. j.ajabad says:

    Since Her Tears Poured
    by: Jacqui Abad

    Since her tears poured
    filling a quaint pond,
    the ducks swim
    quacking in the wake
    across the pond they glide
    towards the hand that feeds them.

    Quite the friendship
    a girl and a pair of ducks
    they are a flock of three.

  167. Enceladan Sonnet

    Since Enceladus has an ocean
    We must consider life arising
    In water warmed by tidal forces
    ‘Neath twenty miles of ice

    Circling Saturn cold exquisite
    Enceladans need not fear bombardment
    For an impact would barely ripple
    Their ocean dark and deep

    But they can never see the Rings
    We who are protected by mere air
    Envy their safety but pity them
    With no window on the stars

    There is no beauty without danger
    There is no appreciation without risk

  168. RamblinRose says:

    Since digging in the garden is out of the question today
    I’ll dream of crumbly soil sifted between my fingers
    Of earthworms escaping the tines of the digging fork
    And reveling in the black gold at the bottom of the compost heap

    Since there’s still deep layers of snow on the ground
    I’ll dream of lettuce seedlings transplanted under the hoops
    Of mache waking from hibernation picked for fresh salad
    And the delicate cucumber taste of trout lily corms mixed with wild greens

    Since spring is taking the scenic route
    I’ll dream of bare feet on the sun-baked earth
    Of the unlocked potential in newly sown carrot seeds
    And the heady scent of just planted tomatoes, a promise of treasures to come

  169. Autumn says:

    Since You Asked

    Lying in a patch of dandelions
    In a sea of grass,
    Your sun-tipped eyelashes
    Flutter against soft cheeks.

    On our backs
    We watch the clouds
    Float by like dreams,
    Wisps of reality.

    Warm fingers trace patterns
    In my outstretched palm.
    I count the seconds until
    You happen a glance at me.

    With eyes like iced tea
    On a summer afternoon,
    You grace me with
    A timid smile.

    And the words
    That spill from your mouth next
    Leave me utterly breathless.
    But since you asked…

    My answer is yes.

  170. georgiana says:

    Since We Got a Dog

    We’ve gotten used to the scent of urine
    On the carpet inside the bedroom door
    Which we agree to sacrifice to save the rest of the house.
    You want hardwood anyway.

    We’ve gotten used to getting up with him,
    As soon as the sun peeks in the window
    And we stumble to find the leash and our glasses
    and shoes, and the door.

    But since we got the dog,
    We’ve smiled more, walked more, slept better
    And when he looks at you with those big black eyes
    You can’t resist, and let him on the couch.

  171. encrerouge says:

    Since February 28th

    The twelve knights that dwell
    under the light of a center and a distant observer,
    have collapsed and entangled to only one day
    skies who never saw merging
    count the hours entrusting shadows
    above a ceiling without recent content

    what the whispers don’t know
    is for strong bones to keep
    within their tunnels grows an echo
    a roar from a voice, who’s noise
    sings movement in the complete color scale

    -forest, concrete,armor, warrior, peace-
    on the month of love, things were taken away from the need
    and yet the theater withholds keys
    metal never meant to be kept by the free.

  172. Jane Shlensky says:

    He determined to live
    in the moment
    now that he had shed
    a few pounds
    his job
    his last wife
    and faith in hereafters
    no nagging memories
    no goals
    (except this one)
    no subordinating
    conjunctions claiming
    his thoughts.

    From now on
    he planned to treat
    every face as fresh unknown
    every day as newly dawned
    every minute as timely gift
    every pulse as his focus
    no past
    no future
    just now
    and now
    and now

  173. beale.alexis says:

    “Since you said please”

    I made you brownies.
    I wrote you love letters
    every three months.
    I walked all the way
    to your house, just to
    stand there in your driveway
    with you, even though
    you never let me come inside
    (because you weren’t allowed
    to have boys over).
    I went and got ice cream with you.
    I held your hand.
    I walked you to work because you
    didn’t want to go alone
    on your first day. And then I walked home
    by myself. It took an hour.
    I told my friends about you.
    I kissed you.
    I didn’t pressure you
    to do anything you didn’t want to do.
    I stayed.

    Since you asked how I felt about you,
    I told you we were friends.
    I told you I didn’t want a girlfriend
    and that I was just being nice to you.
    You romanticized everything
    and that it wasn’t like that.

    Since you walked away in tears
    after I said please, I don’t want to lose you,
    I’ve been thinking about our situation.
    I’ve been missing doing the little things
    for you, because they made you smile.
    You accepted my simplicity
    and never asked why we never
    went on dates or did anything
    extravagant because I think you knew
    how scared I was of being serious
    with someone again.

    Since you left
    I’ve realized that lying to you was a mistake.
    I’ve realized that it’s too late.

  174. tunesmiff says:

    G. Smith
    Since I don’t know what,
    Since I don’t know where;
    Since I don’t when,
    You don’t think I care.

    Since I don’t know how,
    Since I don’t know who;
    Since I don’t why,
    I have to ask: do you?


    I’ve been flirting with your prose
    which explains my bloody nose.
    I’ve been chasing Hallmark cards
    which account for recent scars.
    I’ve been courting aphorisms
    (which might’ve caused my rheumatism).
    Life will surely be pain-free
    if my poems make up with me.

  176. beale.alexis says:

    “Since I let you touch me”

    I haven’t felt the same
    about my morals. I never believed
    in kissing someone you didn’t care for,
    at least in some sort of way.
    Since I let you touch me

    I’ve realized how innocent I
    was. How naïve I was.
    How honest I was.
    And the part that scares me
    is how much
    I liked it.

    The recklessness
    of being with you intoxicated me.
    I had my eye on you
    four years ago, but you rejected me.
    Since then, I had forgotten about you.
    You weren’t really
    my type anyway: dangerous.

    It was New Years.
    I was stressed,
    and I wanted
    more. You were there.
    The room was dark.
    You had gloves that made colors dance.
    I gripped my red cup
    and chugged until all I saw
    were your colors. I stumbled
    over to you and stared
    mouth open wide, eyes low.
    “That’s. So.
    I replaced the cup
    with your face. And drank
    myself to death. Which really isn’t

    like me. I’m usually structured,
    but you’ve ruined that
    in me.
    Thank you.

  177. seingraham says:


    Since you stopped talking
    a liberating freshet of colour
    —something barely peach—
    rushed in to fill the air
    Atypically, my heart
    began beating
    steadily, and lonely has
    not come calling, not once.

    Since you stopped talking
    I have to remind myself
    that you are not away,
    not on a trip somewhere…
    Just being recalcitrant or
    a garden-variety grouch
    At least that’s what I
    imagine…as usual I have
    no idea what set you off
    Or, to be more accurate,
    shut you off.

    Since you stopped talking
    I find myself doing pretty
    much whatever I want,
    whenever I want…
    I have to remind myself
    that you are somewhere
    in the house (maybe—I
    don’t keep track of when
    you come and go when
    you’re like this)
    But as soon as I do that—
    remind myself of your
    presence—I find myself
    bemused because…
    you’re not talking to me.

    Since you stopped talking
    to me this time, I’ve decided
    life is too short for this
    nonsense; I made a few
    earnest efforts to discover
    what was wrong when
    your muteness first began,
    I do love you after all.

    But, I am not playing this
    game any more
    We have been together
    far too long for me to
    have to, yes?
    So since you stopped
    talking, I’ll leave it up
    to you to make the next move.

  178. Emily Cooper says:

    Since the birth
    of a rare goat-sheep hybrid
    on Irishman Paddy Murphy’s farm
    two weeks ago

    (rare because the two animals
    are genetically distant

    not because Bono’s
    livestock serenading fee

    for “In The Name of Love”
    has gotten so steep lately)

    the little “geep” is thriving
    and is already running around

    unlike those lazy lambs
    who lack leverage of their limbs.

    He faces no ostracization
    from his non-Muggle siblings

    and says he may
    become a singer
    in a glamb rock band.

  179. smdnyc says:

    Backward Flip Inward Dive Cannonball Splash Into the Lunar
    (Or: “Ah, fuck it.”)

    Since I cannot soak
    in the shallow bath of Facebook forever
    with its causes that make my inner spirit limp
    like overcooked noodles
    with its un-ending photos of lovers past and potential
    zapping my mojo in the here and now
    with its Buzzfeed quizzes wrinkling any receptors
    of what Alpha brainwaves I have left
    (if brainwaves in fact have receptors)
    (who knew I was Gene from
    Wet Hot American Summer?)
    (of course you are of course)

    and since I tweeted a throw-away thought
    in less than 26 characters
    and since I have posted a photo on Instagram
    that only my 12-year-old nephew will double tap

    and since I have returned emails
    and phone calls
    and grabbed a coffee

    and since I have received another rejection

    and since I have consumed a sleeve of Oreos
    made my bed
    submitted another grant application
    pitched ideas
    done my taxes
    eaten something green
    picked my skin
    flossed my teeth
    made some tea
    popped popcorn
    streamed a Netflix movie

    and since I have received yet another rejection

    and since I have prayed to the gods
    or the universe or whatever
    that my life without children or homeownership
    or money or a husband or a book
    or ever planting a tree
    or tending a garden
    will not turn out to be a life lived in vain

    and since I have drank half a bottle of wine
    resisted the temptation to call the black hole lover
    who never made me feel great in the first place

    and since I have come all this way

    I suppose I’ll stand on the end of this platform
    and write
    of this
    about a

    into water
    so deep
    so wild
    so black
    so boundless
    that not even the moon
    has control over what happens
    when I fling myself into the tide

  180. Kit Cooley says:

    Since Before Dawn

    Just the faint glimmer of the morning shows
    as we feel our way from bed to start the day.
    One dim light is lit, while we shake loose
    the web of dreams from bleary eyes,
    and stretch muscles, weary from yesterday.

    Roosters have been crowing since before dawn,
    and hens shift restless on the roost.
    The dark lumps in the pasture mark the place
    where sheep are resting, waiting
    for the hay and grain, but wanting grass.

    But first the coffee beans are ground,
    and put to steam in the espresso pot
    on the stove, the hot coals stirred from
    slumber to warm the room, the wood smoke
    and black strong smell mix to wake the senses.

    Three cats weave widdershins,
    and form a triskelion around my legs,
    guiding me to a bowl that needs filled,
    and the dog half raises a heavy head
    from the floor to watch me serve her breakfast.

    Outside the water sloshes in the buckets,
    drawn from the creek that rushes,
    full of spring detritus and foam,
    and we listen as we trudge to the gate,
    thrushes call, and robins answer,
    announcing daybreak.

    ~Kit Cooley

  181. break_of_day says:

    “since he returned”

    nothing, at first
    no discernable change
    he goes about his orders
    unknown, even to himself
    working in the shadows,
    until an act reveals
    a presence in the darkness

    an act big enough to get your attention
    subtle, at first
    nothing to point fingers
    nothing to unmask him
    the assassin
    the villain
    the dead man

    no longer dead
    unremembered, only to himself
    lingering in shadows
    enveloped in darkness …
    on the precipice of dawn
    about to be known
    about to be awakened
    about to return

  182. LizMac says:

    “Ever Since”

    That which is so, must be so.

    We first met I have been happy.

    Then, however, I found you have not.

    When did you arrive at that conclusion?


    All this while I’ve been deluded

    I loved you, but you did not

    I cannot hold you:
    You’re a free spirit

    Such is the situation
    Where should we go?


    Now you take that tone
    How else should I respond?

    You will not dialogue
    I must withdraw

    Otherwise, I’ll lose myself entirely

    It seems already you are lost

    It is so, it must be so

    Though my heart cries out against it,
    Now and ever since.

    Quad Erat Demonstratum

  183. Why I Do This

    Since you insist
    On a plausible explanation why
    I do this:

    Not for fame,
    Or money. Just trying to
    Survive the night.

  184. Since an awkward dinner

    We sat, forcing ourselves to eat
    while choking off the words that
    never came out. The snap of vitriol
    hurled across the table was to cut,
    and insides turned and turned,
    took its invisible hands and pushed
    me into the office in silence
    while you covered yourself with
    a blanket barricade. You, resigned
    to my inadequate ways. You, mining
    ways to hurt back and me, still
    sitting in solitude, a sullen faded
    picture to be discarded.

    • Janet Rice Carnahan says:

      Love the image of, . . . “forcing ourselves to eat while choking off the words that never came out.” It was a good description of not being able to digest an uncomfortable moment. Like the struggle to receive what doesn’t feel right. Good going!

  185. Mr. Walker says:

    since language
    is the basis of learning


    is it?

    my sons learned to walk
    without my talking

    the future keeps coming
    and we keep learning

    we call it experience

    some of it we can put into language
    some of it we cannot

    some of it we put into language
    and no listens to us

    experience will teach them
    the hard way
    the test and then the lesson

    that seems backwards
    but I can walk backwards
    into the future

    teeth break through gums
    and we learn to eat

    all without language

    there is language with magic
    i call it poetry

    and there is magic without language
    i call it love

    show it
    feel it
    let it be

    let it be

  186. toujourskari says:

    Since You Asked

    Since you asked,
    I would like you to kiss me so deeply
    that my toes can’t help but curl,
    So deeply that the taste of your lips
    makes me forget my name.
    You know, since you asked.

    Since you asked,
    It has been 2 years, 5 months, 14 days,
    and 7 hours since I was last kissed.
    There have been 20,604,480 breaths that have escaped
    these lips since he chose her over me.
    I’ve done the math, you know. Since you asked.

    SInce you asked,
    I would like you to make your teeth pierce the places on my flesh
    where his marks still linger
    and tear apart every single remnant, every single memory,
    every single trace of him.
    You could do it, you know. Since you asked.

  187. LeighSpencer says:

    Since You Asked

    I was just wondering
    if vampires ejaculate
    and, if so,
    does blood, semen,
    or something else
    come out?

    Also, I wonder if living
    near the air force base and missile plant
    is helpful or detrimental
    during wartime?

    I think it would be bad
    in the event of a nuclear assault
    but likely quite helpful
    during the zombie apocalypse

    Did you know that most male reptiles
    have two penises?

    Apparently, it’s such a struggle
    selecting, grabbing, and restraining the females,
    the survival of their species depends on
    being good to go
    from either side

    I guess you gotta do
    what you gotta do
    when flowers, candy, and Barry White on the record player
    aren’t available options

    I think I want something
    with grilled onions for dinner

    That’s about it

    Since you asked

    What I was thinking

  188. Since My Last Cut
    Lydia Flores

    My skin rebels with an insistent itch
    I tell myself do not scratch.
    One day flowers will bloom
    from that slim opening
    you raked over.
    Let yourself become a garden.

    The rain will burst from the clouds
    heavy and strong but I will open
    my hands this time. I will tell the
    heavens to drench me with it’s tears.
    My heart is a desert sometimes.
    When my fingers tremble with urge
    for blood I tell myself: no.
    No, stand down, the war is done.
    go home. and I will stuff my hands
    into my small pants pockets.

    My scars will become vines
    coiling around the gates
    of my dark skin.
    I tell myself. I tiell myself time,
    time will prove your harvest.

    When they ask, I tell them,
    what happened there…
    I there was a war zone here
    but the tombs have become stems
    they have become vines and I am
    now a thriving, blooming garden.
    There are bright sunflowers
    in my eyes facing the heavens.

    • [fixed my typos] :|

      Since My Last Cut
      Lydia Flores

      My skin rebels with an insistent itch
      I tell myself do not scratch.
      One day flowers will bloom
      from that slim opening
      you raked over.
      Let yourself become a garden.

      The rain will burst from the clouds
      heavy and strong but I will open
      my hands this time. I will tell the
      heavens to drench me with it’s tears.
      My heart is a desert sometimes.
      When my fingers tremble with urge
      for blood I tell myself: no.
      No, stand down, the war is done.
      go home. and I will stuff my hands
      into my small pants pockets.

      My scars will become vines
      coiling around the gates
      of my dark skin.
      I tell myself. I tiell myself time,
      time will prove your harvest.

      When they ask, I tell them,
      what happened there…
      I, there, was a war zone here
      but the tombs have become stems
      they have become vines and I am
      now a thriving, blooming garden.
      There are bright sunflowers
      in my eyes facing the heavens.

  189. Joyce Ray says:

    Since I journeyed to Nepal

    my spice palette increased from 1 to 3.

    I try not to take for granted
    lights coming on when I flip a switch.

    I load the washer and remember Nepalese
    sisters scrubbing laundry in the river.

    I see education can be a privilege,
    not a right, and the struggle
    for knowledge is uphill and steep.

    My fingers trail along library book spines.
    I see the empty bookshelves in Nepali schools.

    I no longer believe cleanliness is next to godliness
    when cows and dogs forage in roadside litter
    in a country rich in gods.

    Developing countries are real to me.

  190. Sara McNulty says:

    Since You Blew It

    she said, I have been busy
    building a new me. You see
    you were not the hotshot
    you saw while mirror gazing.
    Jealousy greened your face,
    cowardice yellowed your body.
    The resulting color was
    as unattractive as left over
    pea soup. My edges
    were ragged, a haggard look
    besieged me for some time.
    Now, I am smoother–chiseled,
    polished–certain of who I am,
    what is important, and it is not a man
    like you.

  191. dsborden says:

    since the tree
    leaves under
    drip and dew
    with hands,
    nettle new,
    since I fell

  192. iris dunkle says:

    Since dawn split the sky, the cows have been brooding hillside.
    Their black and white bodies leaning comfortably
    into the knee-high grass, their gazes fixed on
    the line of dusty road soon to erupt in movement—
    as the battered red truck full of hay comes toward them.
    When the hay spills their muscles ripple with
    tangible joy. A few going so far
    as to kick their thick hind legs into air.
    Then the road bends into another green hill.
    This one bare, still dark. Somewhere between dawn
    and joy not yet arrived to those looking for it.

  193. Since I’ve died

    you’ve clung to life…
    mainly old photographs
    that lingered in the shadows,
    and in which, over the years, you’ve revealed 
    your special powers
    tap tap tap
    that torment me 
    over and over again
    through that dreadful portal
    tap tap tap
    so that now, when I reside – swipe –
    in my remote cloud,
    I can hear you howl,
    moan, haunt, hover 
    over our old turf
    by street view.
    So tell me – in lieu of flowers –
    who’s the ghost now?

  194. Since You

    Since you I’m not able to trust
    Since you I can’t let myself love
    Since you I’m waiting to get hurt
    Since you I’m always suspicious
    Since you I’m always skeptical
    Since you I always think twice
    Since I’ve stopped being so nice

  195. Since the Day Before Forever

    infinitesimal molecules winged their way
    through the torrents of time and space –
    stardust – bits of giant, exploding super novas
    drifting into being – forming – morphing – creating –

    We breathe it all in –
    our pasts, our present and our futures –
    all in one deep cleansing breath that fills
    heart and lungs to overflowing,
    then released back into the void…
    since the day before forever

  196. matthew says:

    Since when is a poem a bird
    Since it has been a kingfisher
    diving deep into the ocean
    off the coast of the Galopagos
    Since this is an ancient art
    that magnificent bird can
    be suspended in animation
    forever pursuing the prey
    forever intoxicated by that first taste

    That can be striking
    at first glance
    that can fuse sand into glass

    Since poetry can be lightning
    flashing onto the beach

  197. J. Brannock says:

    Since the pieces are leaving like a high priced fence…

    Lemme throw a few more things in for ya.
    Some people love with a fierce quickness.
    A love worthy of the great train robbery.
    Faster than a speeding bullet.
    Super man, Super woman.
    You balked when I playfully suggested you were bargaining with my virtue in planning in our date.
    And, since you are a mafia of my heart.
    I will go clean from you.
    And, you weren’t the last man I nailed.
    And, even though, the last time we talked was only this morning.
    I had him the very next day after the evening you left.
    So there, playah.
    Playah got played.
    I don’t trade well in pieces on the black market.
    Even with the hot sex involved.

  198. tuner says:

    “Since Ever”

    Since you’ve gone
    friends have gathered to gawk
    at clouds and the desolate sky
    lowering above the empty field,
    where the cold, beautiful sea sits just adjacent

    That’s me flying there
    across the horizon
    in the long dark coat
    among the flock
    dovetails and breasts crash one upon the other
    where wing touches wing
    and the sky darkens
    in endless droves

    Since you’ve been gone
    there’s nothing
    but time upon my misty hands
    eons, eras
    ebb and flow
    cascading endless rivers
    this expanse of time
    vast and roiling
    and me simply swept away since
    you are not here
    there is nothing but nothing
    and everything
    nothing but choices limned against the dark green,
    verdant and blue,
    stretching from here to there

    Since you’ve gone
    I am happy as a clam
    I’m here and there
    quite really everywhere
    that man on the shore
    or sitting upon a bench
    strolling the park
    hands swelling in empty pockets
    pressed against threadbare lining
    shoulders squared against the wind
    or hunched over
    happy hours never seemed so swell
    flitting, floating, flying away ever

  199. DanielR says:

    and fell
    from the corner of the world
    I have tumbled into empty space,
    a void of nothingness
    free of the encumbering
    weight of imposing expectations,
    laughing at myself
    and how I must appear
    to those who cannot understand
    our lives were never meant for here
    but instead for far greater things
    we cannot comprehend
    and peace can be found
    in accepting the not knowing
    and my faith is stronger now
    since I let go

    Daniel Roessler

  200. DCR1986 says:


    Since I met you,

    You have shifted

    The emptiness of my heart.

    Decorating each space with

    An elegant taste.

    Adding colors of passion,

    Courage and grace.

    Instilling a sanctuary of strength and stability,

    With embroideries of wit, affection, and honor.

    Never once have you hung

    Me up on commitment.

    You nailed it

    With communication and patience.

    Although it took time to adjust,

    To humbly design us in trust,

    And loyalty for longevity—

    Especially before we invite

    Additional members for

    A sturdy family.  

    In this chair of hope,

    We unfold our fears and sit in peace,

    Nibbling on scoops of reality

    While sharing slices of spirituality.

    And sometimes-at-times before dusk,

    Colors block conflict within us by

    Molding walls or scattering foreign objects,

    Then we break them down

    Until we are back at one—

    Smiling comfortably without reasons

    And resting our heels from the

    Path of withdraw.

    We welcome hugs, then exchange

    Our favorite words of the day.

    I love you.


  201. So I felt pretty inspired today, and actually wrote three poems based off this prompt. I’m only posting two of them, and I think these two are the best out of the three (or at least I hope so). The second one is for my sister, Hope, who died in Feburary.

    Since The Mists of Dawn
    by Ashley Marie Egan

    You’ve been gone,
    Since the mists of dawn,
    The bed still holds your shape,

    My hand feels cold,
    Caressing your mold,
    For you’ve left my heart agape.

    Since The Snow Melted
    by Ashley Marie Egan

    A few months ago,
    Your laughter was still fresh,
    Your opinions still strong,
    Your singing still loud,
    Your dancing still bold,
    But all of that has changed,

    A few months ago,
    Your life was getting better,
    Your will was getting stronger,
    Your body was getting healthier,
    Your addiction was getting weaker,
    But all of that has changed,

    A couple months ago,
    Your body turned into ash,
    Your personality turned into memories,
    Your belongings turned into ghosts,
    Your life turned into echoes,
    And everything has changed,

    A couple months ago,
    In the middle of the night,
    While we were sleeping,
    You passed away,
    And everything has changed.

  202. Beewrite says:

    Since We’re on the Subject
    By Michelle Starks Murrish

    I am a victim, to be precise,
    Of unsolicited advice
    When I was steaming out some air
    Someone stepped in, to solve my care

    “Since we’re on the subject, friend,
    I have some expertise to lend”
    And like following a scripted cue
    They talk until their face turns blue

    They take no breaths, no hems nor haws
    As they lay out all of my flaws
    Their voice has turned into a humming
    This speech has been a long time coming

    It brings a thought into my mind
    About how I chose to use my time
    Happier I’d be, if less I’d spend
    With my ‘since we’re on the subject’ friend

  203. lionetravail says:

    “Since I Came Back From Vietnam”
    by David M. Hoenig

    You don’t really want to see me,
    but there I am, less than a ghost
    of what I was, and I scare you.

    I smell funny, my hair’s crazy,
    my eyes roam, and my lips mutter
    apologies to people long dead.

    I lived and fought in Vietnam,
    served the country I felt I owed,
    and was hated for what I did!

    I saw things there that you, in your
    world of safety, light, love, order,
    could not believe, never handle!

    Limbs- not of trees, but friends- flying
    in splashes of blood like thrown paint,
    as one you knew lost all he was.

    Stalking darkness, terror at night,
    never knowing if your killer
    was hiding behind the next tree.

    Shells, men crashing through heavy brush,
    horrors screaming to fray your nerves
    thinner than the clothes I now wear.

    It’s not that I won’t work, or can’t,
    but that I can’t even face what’s
    there inside: grief, fear, and shame.

    Because I came back! Others didn’t;
    they were better as dead heroes
    than as living ‘baby killers’.

    I was young once! I loved movies,
    and girls, had dreams of what I’d do,
    before I knew how death would taste!

    I’m not crazy, but I’m broken,
    thoughts bent, straightened, bent again- snap!-
    like my glasses, wire-framed and taped.

    I can’t relate to you at all!
    You never had a brother bleed
    onto your lap as you held him!

    Never had to tell him bad lies,
    like, he’d make it, wasn’t so bad,
    as his life dripped between your hands!

    We lived and died so far from home,
    came back to home so far from us,
    and lived, only to lose ourselves.

    Try to forget you saw me here,
    scary, sorry, ghost of a man,
    who must suffer demons each day.

    Demons which ask, why did you live?
    Why did we fight? Why did I die?
    Why did they hate their own, poor sons?

    Now I am not smiling at you,
    talking to you, thinking of you,
    you who goes there, in freedom’s grace.

  204. skanet says:

    Since I’m no longer single
    Life relaxes
    The streets are not a catwalk for my viewing pleasure
    Every man is not a possible my man
    And every failed glance is not a failure

    When evening comes
    I have a home
    My home contains a man and a cat
    And a home
    There is always somewhere to run to
    Someone to tag when I’m done running
    There is part of me external to nudge up against

    Since I have been one of two
    I have been more fully me

    • J. Brannock says:

      I love your way with words here. I realize that’s a relatively gratuitous comment. Such a treat, this poem.

      • lionetravail says:

        Thank you- you are too kind. But fortunately for me, this was an attempt to put myself in the hypothertical place of a veteran I’ve been privileged to help care for in the past. So many have had such difficulty in their lives, while earning what should only be our respect and gratitude. I can, by no means, claim to truly understand, but I try to empathize as much as I can.

        • lionetravail says:

          Oof, my sincere apologies- not quite sure how this happened, but it belongs up a post, in response to seingraham.

          • seingraham says:

            That’s okay – got it … glad to hear it’s not autobiographical but congratulate you on how authentically it rings (sorry for the assumption on my part; silly really, I often write under different personae myself)…your empathy is very real; this is a wonderful poem.

      • skanet says:

        Thank you both, I happy it’s relatable :)

  205. dandelionwine says:

    Since Her Heart Is On Her Sleeve Anyway, Why Not?

    Cut and paste a white paper bunny, add oil pastel
    balloons drifting in a construction paper sky.

    Present the work with joy, then scamper away.
    Return to announce a modification of “added cuteness.”

    The balloons are smiling.

    Point out the new, huge, red oil pastel heart rendered
    sweetly lopsided toward the center of the rabbit.

    Say it was drawn to make the picture appear more realistic.

    Sara Ramsdell

  206. Monique says:

    Since I Last Cut My Hair

    I shouldn’t have cut my hair last year
    I wanted to prove to my friend that I could change
    That I could grow up
    But it seems like whether I liked it or not
    Change would take me far away from my friend
    It has been a year since I decided to cut my hair
    And it’s looking fine
    But I can’t help but want it to be longer
    To flow like a river of black silk
    Don’t know why exactly
    But I definitely want it
    Shining, gleaming
    A part of me
    And if I could, I’d dye it bright blue
    Just because I can
    And if I cut it again
    I’ll do it on my terms

  207. Andrea says:

    Since January,

    I’ve begged you to shovel the drive—
    now April sun and I gave up waiting

    while nest-less stinger wasps
    duel icicles for concrete steps

    where I watch the grass and weeds
    feed on the shade of your back tires.

    You haven’t called for your handkerchief
    as the honeysuckle reaches hummingbirds

    and the Mayflies rekindle. Lemon wilts mint
    on my tea tray; its tea grows strong and bitter.

    I bargain with ice cream melting months
    and settle with crabapple pies.

    Now, April sun and I gave up waiting—
    the cross out back is slowly fading.

    • Janet Rice Carnahan says:

      So loved, “I bargain with ice cream melting months and settle with crabapple pies.” Beautiful imagery blended with the emotional feel to it! Lovely!

  208. tuner says:

    “Since Ever”

    Since you’ve gone
    I have witnesed spectators gawking
    up at a desolate sky
    lowering above an empty field,
    the cold,beautiful sea just adjacent

    That’s me flying there
    cross the horizon
    in the long dark coat
    among a flock of dovetails
    feathers and breasts crashing one upon the other
    wing touching wing
    darkening the sky
    in endless droves

    Since you’ve been gone
    there’s nothing
    but time on my hands
    eons, eras
    ebb and flow
    cascading endless rivers
    this expanse of time
    vast and roiling
    and me simply swept away since
    you are not here
    there is nothing but nothing
    and everything
    nothing but choices limned against the dark green,
    verdant and blue,
    from here to there

    since you’ve gone
    I am happy as a clam
    I’m here and there
    quite everywhere
    that man on the shore
    or sitting upon a bench
    strolling the park
    hands swelling in empty pockets
    pressed against the lining, thread-bare,
    shoulders squared
    or hunched
    happy hours never seemed so swell
    flitting, floating, flying away ever

  209. CathyBlogs says:

    Since You Unfriended Me

    That intoxicating time when I’d
    send you a text and I knew you
    were waiting because you
    texted right back.
    Which ticked from
    seconds to minutes to
    And the way your tweets
    changed their tune
    from our inside jokes
    and just-us asides
    to retweets from @Upworthy
    and @JimGaffigan.
    And my #cute #sleepy
    #morning #face #unfiltered
    is permanently Photoshopped
    from your
    Instagram stream,
    although those #adorable
    pictures of your feline
    And let us not post to
    Facebook, where we once
    cemented ourselves with
    ‘In a relationship’-ness
    and team-tagged our photos
    and Applebees check-ins,
    and all our selfies were
    couplies —
    Baby, where are we now?
    Since you unfriended me
    my newsfeed is bereft of you,
    except for some
    second-hand mentions,
    my repeated ‘likes’
    of Gotye,
    your unfortunate
    number one
    placement on my
    ‘People you might know’
    page — and I am left to wonder
    ‘What’s on your mind?’

    by Cathy Dee writing at CathyBlogs

  210. Linda Voit says:

    Since Yesterday

    I have had about six hours
    of sleep interrupted by a
    half hour on the computer
    checking emails and the next
    poetry prompt, nine hours of work,
    ten minutes of eating breakfast
    in my car and eight minutes
    of eating lunch at my desk,
    and now, I am about to see
    my husband and two old friends
    passing through town, relax
    into Friday evening
    with a Wisconsin fish fry
    and conversation. So this poem
    is done.

    Linda Voit

  211. lshannon says:

    Since I left home

    I had an itch to travel from
    my saddle shoes and Brownie days
    wanting to go – see- do

    She felt the same
    and gave me the gift of
    ample opportunity.

    We climbed hills
    and sat in sand dunes
    gathering pennies like shells
    collecting for the next adventure.

    Since I left my shores
    first to green fiords and
    then to rising suns and blossoms

    She has come with me
    but now as visitor not global nomad
    her center still near to her childhood.

    Mine has shifted
    moved and resettled
    but still I think about the next place.

    Keeping a map – a list on the wall
    of kingdoms crossed
    and others not yet conquered.


  212. inkysolace says:

    Since I last reached for your heartbeat

    You’ve earned a girl
    with a scarf that matches your sunglasses
    and jokes that fill up your laugh

    Stay with her. I have vowed
    you will not charm me after looking away

    Yet I have clenched my fists over her half-brushed hair
    her loud smile and claimed
    “I made myself already
    into someone who looks for strength within her own fingers
    and the friends that have never been tainted
    with blood she cannot swallow”
    you are too good for me to keep
    too pretty, too sweet to live as a hologram
    and to let you go I have forced myself
    to find fault with your name
    and its one syllable bulging under my tongue
    “I live for connection,” I’ve cried
    “for letters I can keep before letting them out
    though the back door of my exhale”
    you didn’t stay long enough even when I made you

    I have missed you like I would miss fishing line
    on an island and I have sat
    between two windowless walls with half-legitimate love
    and the tremble of almost throwing up
    carving holes into the sides of my lungs

    You have forgotten the way my eyes stuck to the back of your shirt
    like a post-it-note begging the world to give you a kick
    You have forgotten how small my hands are
    You have forgotten what I had to peel from myself to let you go

  213. DamonZ says:

    “Since the rain stopped”

    The leaves flipped back around.
    Tickled by each passing drop.
    On their way to the ground.
    Now they seem to shiver.
    In the affable spring breeze.
    Or shake off and quiver
    The dance of spring trees.

    The sun lights the stage.
    The gold rays find their way.
    To the fragrant wild sage.
    Happy bugs crawl, buzz, and play.
    Anxious birds sing their song.
    The forest is alive and clean.
    It rained so hard and long.

    Everything so fresh and green.
    It’s a wonderful natural scene.
    Watching nature wash and preen.

    By: Damon Zallar

  214. Final curtain

    “Leave them laughing” the old pros will tell you.
    “Save a show stopper for final farewells.”
    I wish I’d think up a line to leave on-
    a more classy way to exit life’s stage
    than waning, ebbing, and disappearing.
    Perhaps I’ll go work on my will.

  215. Nancy Posey says:

    Since Pluto’s demotion
    from the solar system,
    my science project
    hangs askew

    And violet’s been booted
    from the rainbow,
    disrupting Roy G. Biv
    and art class too.

    But nothing can
    compare to my whole world
    since I lost you.

  216. Nanamaxtwo says:


    Daydreams fill the void between failure and Savior.
    Since the best hitter collided on third base,
    our team now depends on me to approach
    home base warming up with the weight
    of a wooden bat no one else can swing.
    Feet scruffing dirt at home plate, adjusted then fixed,
    left foot angling toward the short left
    field, I bring the bat back behind
    my right shoulder and – keeping my mind’s eye
    on the ball – my swing connects, cracks
    the ball high and far and the crowd stands
    cheering as I follow through, drop the bat
    and saunter to first, second, complete the home run
    circuit. Deep into the dream I raise my left arm
    to acknowledge the cheers, quickly drop it
    scratch my head and gesture toward my glass
    for a refill, more successful at drinking than baseball.

  217. Margot Suydam says:

    Since Winter Ended

    With the Spring
    You arrive. Tart memory rises
    From the thaw.

    These frigid nights,
    My hood pulled over stays
    Winter’s last gasp.

    School buses yellow
    their way home. The child
    remembers the lift

    Of burdensome cold
    Long before days turn long.
    Someone is waiting

    There’s a clasp
    Of warm hands, the blink
    Of watering eyes.

  218. Since Nothing Comes to Me

    I think of silence, the blessed emptiness
    Of space. Or even there would the sound
    Of atoms create a sweet susurration
    Like a seashell held to an ear? They speak
    Of solar wind rushing from the sun, flares
    I imagine bursting like timpani,
    Crashing like cymbals, but without atmosphere
    What would I hear even if the ear’s drum
    Did not burst from the inside as it would?
    What if that bursting was the last sound I heard,
    And nothing came to me then but silence
    Heard, so to speak, for the first time and forever?

  219. Since Breakfast
    Elyse Brownell

    Since breakfast I have done nothing but
    read emails, answer phone calls, sit at
    my desk and pretend to be working,
    stalk old lovers on facebook, edit somebody
    else’s manuscript, edit my own manuscript,
    write a poem, write another poem, imagine
    myself writing another poem about something
    I’ve never written about, drink a margarita, ask for rocks
    and salt, sample the bartenders new recipe for
    a blue/blackberry margarita to celebrate opening day,
    order another margarita, contemplate not going back
    to work, wonder what the boss would say if I didn’t
    return to work, contemplate turning off my phone,
    contemplate laying down on the concrete in the hot sun, and falling
    asleep dreaming about more margaritas, hear a joke, tell
    a bad joke, flirt with the bartender, check my phone,
    imagine the entire rest of the day, imagine it in an alternate way
    but with only one small change, like, choosing a different outfit,
    wish I’d worn a longer skirt, wish I’d word sandals, wish I’d curled
    my hair, pick out poems to read tonight, write a new poem,
    hope that the new poem will be far superior than the
    originals poems I’d written months ago, reorganize set list,
    organize the pens on my desk according to color and height,
    check emails, check emails again, hit refresh thinking there’s no
    way I haven’t gotten a single email since before 11am, collect
    paper clips, line up the paper clips according to size, take apart one
    of the paper clips and make the letter E, try to put the paper clip back
    to original form, realize you can’t put the paperclip back to original form,
    get a glass of water, get more water, fill the cup with ice hoping that the
    water will last longer, print out a file index, update a file index, remember
    the last time you updated a file index for this particular file, realize
    there is not possible way you are going to waste your time sifting
    through old documents to update this file accordingly, acco the most
    recent correspondence into the file, think about my hair, think
    about the last time I cut my hair, think it’s time to get a haircut,
    remember the bank account, the wedding, the dress, the 100 party
    favors you have to purchase, think about eloping, look at the time,
    sit down to write this poem, end this poem.

    • jadetney says:

      I quite enjoyed this, and the bits about killing time at work particularly tickled me, as this is my every day:

      “check emails, check emails again, hit refresh thinking there’s no
      way I haven’t gotten a single email since before 11am”

      or… Check the weather forecast. Check it again the afternoon. Decide which colour to use for the new file folders, go find them. Change my mind and go get a different shade or purple. Change my mind again and go back for the original file folders…

  220. lionetravail says:

    “Since I First Told A Lie”
    by David M. Hoenig

    The silver spoon I was born with, apparently,
    leached into my tongue, and thence transformed
    into a fork; a veritable spork with which to pitch
    mendacious hay as tasty fodder for the gullible.

    Once straight and forward together,
    now the lies lie thick and crowded on my tongue,
    a crust of disingenuous pleasantries
    which spill with little care for anything but results.

    Disraeli was a fraud; there are not just three,
    but thousands of types of lies.
    They simply require practice to master.
    I regret, sometimes, what practice has tragically made perfect.

  221. jadetney says:

    Since his last breath

    one hand still strokes his soft body
    the others have pulled back
    how long is it normal
    to keep petting him?
    he still feels the same
    his shiny black fur
    soft and warm
    but so still
    you wouldn’t think it would be so noticeable
    the lack of breathing
    the rise and fall of his thin ribcage.
    his eyes won’t stay shut
    maybe that happens later
    don’t focus on it.
    he could be napping
    except he never napped in this position
    there is a cardboard box with a blanket
    and we lift him inside
    trying to arrange him naturally
    like he’s sleeping
    sort of.
    “I love you”

    • Totally lovely and moving. I am thinking it might be even more powerful without the last line, which is so clear throughout the whole poem anyway. That final “sort of” would normally be a weak last line — but in this case, quite the opposite.

      • jadetney says:

        I debated over the last line and I agree that it is not quite right. But since I was more or less describing a real memory, I felt wrong leaving it so detached (it seemed at the time) and added the line at the last minute then posted it to wash my hands of the matter. Perhaps I will return to the poem and rework it. Thanks for your feedback!

      • jadetney says:

        On further reflection, you are totally right. Thank you for making me read my poem in a different way!

    • julie e. says:

      Death and loss are hateful and awkward. Great poem.

  222. GarrinJost says:

    Since Always

    It’s not that I have met all the people that I am supposed to meet.
    Or that the ways that I have dreamed their appearances
    and disappearances have grown into some great mess
    and that God into my life, a new face brings
    only when he sees it fit and proper
    to destroy my math
    and keep me guessing towards him alone.

    On the contrary,
    since I can remember;
    every face I see is new
    and even my friends seem to wear
    a different facade for almost every attachable moment.

    Even the clay of my own cheeks
    seems soft and wet
    and buckles to my seconds and minutes and hours-

    all against my efforts
    and maybe God’s-
    to keep it still and right,
    apart from the tumult
    and the wind
    and the change.

    The evening of every hour
    brings with it a moment of true sight
    where the sun’s angle sees straight
    to the deep pupil of everyone’s eyes-

    to the reflection of our great inability
    to stay the same
    just so long enough to know that someone else is there
    and that it is not just me-
    still and staring into a desire of seamless difference-
    always back again into myself
    as mirror’s tricks-
    and maze’s loops-
    to keep me from you
    and from God-
    from my truest self-
    and from defeating the one doubt I always harbor
    of everything that is
    and all that could ever be.

    The time has come-
    the sun is setting on you and I
    and by it’s last light
    and perfect rays:

    I am sure that I have known your face since always
    and I am certain I have felt your eyes before
    and though the darkness will follow
    I go not alone
    and your eyes are here as proof.

  223. Shrewd-Knavish says:


    I saw you through the windshield in the car of the parking lot while I wore sunglasses and ate a sandwich
    and I froze and I almost choked because it was like seeing a ghost projected in from of me
    You were there with your mother and fiancé
    and he ran the car back to where it belongs and came back and your hair was reddish
    and through the cracks in the window slightly rolled down I heard you speak
    I heard your voice
    Like looking at a stoic photograph from when it was first invented
    Like hearing a voice recording of a dead president
    And you were and you were well I think you were showing
    And I lost count of all the things that changed since we stopped talking
    Everything that died
    Everything that’s growing
    And I made up this scene in my head where I jumped out of the car and ran to you crying
    and everything was fine
    But I didn’t
    And it’s not
    Slid down in my seat until you drove away
    I can’t create these things in my head
    They just happen
    They just did
    I am overcome by how much I miss you
    that I don’t even know what I’m saying

  224. LiveOakLea says:

    Since Daylight

    Fed the rabbit
    Romaine lettuce, cilantro and hay.
    Fed the finches
    Seeds, cilantro and millet spray.
    Bagged their poop, sent it down the chute.
    Scrambled eggs.
    Phoned one son.
    Paid the bills.
    Watched TV.
    Wrote a poem.
    Covered the finches’ cage.
    Thank you God
    for another day.

  225. tuner says:

    Since you’ve gone
    spectators gawk
    up at the desolate sky
    lowering above the field
    next to a cold sea

    That’s me flying there
    cross the horizon
    among a flock of dovetails
    one body crashing upon the other
    wing touching wing
    darkening the sky
    in endless droves

    Since you’ve been gone
    I have nothing
    but time on my hands
    eons, eras ebb and
    endless rivers
    this expanse of time
    vast and roiling
    and me simply swept away

    Since you are not here
    there is nothing but nothing
    and everything
    choices limned against the dark green,
    verdant and blue,
    from here to there
    since you’ve gone
    I am happy as a clam

    hey, that’s me up there
    that man on the bench
    strolling through the park
    hands swelling in dark pockets
    happy hours never seemed so swell
    flitting, floating, flying away ever

  226. Since graham crackers promote sin

    We should all feverishly consume more,
    make some killer sin S’mores eat them
    all together in our mixed race,
    two mom or two dad homes where love
    isn’t defined by a fairy tale,
    where hate is a word that is shunned,
    where wholesome isn’t something that
    will get you tied to a fence,
    or dragged behind a car on a rope,
    or to have someone picket your funeral.
    Every ounce of hate could be transformed
    into a giant mural of acceptance.

  227. Zeenie says:

    since you asked me to name my loneliness

    An angry, tattered cat, slicing
    claws through the skin of my chest.
    She tears at the limp life-center
    I call “heart,” finds that “heart”
    is an overly-generous description.

    Like good wine, my tears are aged.
    Stuffed-in and shut-down,
    they are basement-dwellers,
    cork-exploders, in need of decanting.
    You would cry yellow bulbs, too,
    if you had fermented this long.

    My dad pan-fries tuna steak
    in under three minutes:
    sear on outside, raw on inside.
    There are things that are best this way.
    I am not one of them.

  228. Gwyvian says:

    Since time stopped

    The darkness began to sweat as heat rose from fingertips,
    a flicker of power lost in a tempest of age, but the kindling
    did not fade from the burden of existence… not yet, and—
    with hums of growth and sighs of impatience,
    the sorceress now held in her palm a spark of travelling,
    and she weighed time and judged it upon herself: in rapture,
    she spoke the tongue of the hourglass – and faded into
    an opalescent fold, where the eve flowed passed her with
    a mere tingle of callous delight, digging into her essence; yet
    her voice, untainted by the jealous attentions of mortality,
    oozed through the crevices of a cunning shadow—
    and the night succumbed to the whispers of her sorrows,
    unspoken wishes of madness slipping through its web…
    and mingled in them, the harbinger of its cessation, its
    crease in life smoothed into inconsequence: a relic of an age
    when time still crept and made itself felt, and with
    the screams of the particles of an undying quintessence,
    the sorceress bled time of its hold—
    but with her footsteps once more on the damp grass,
    the graveyard where her lover slept
    remained infused with silence…
    …and he remained a simple fragment of ‘since time stopped’
    plunged into eternity, where the sorceress no longer breathes:
    for the delights of taste and touch have gently torn away
    into a night that kept sweating feeling, bleeding life gray.

    April 4, 2014

    By: Lucy K. Melocco

  229. De Jackson says:

    since she strayed,

    she found herself
    smack dab in the middle
    of Nowhere.

    since it suited her,
          she stayed.

    since then, she knows
    a thing or two
    about losing faith
    and falling

    from grace.


  230. Ravyne says:

    Since Dawn

    I spread out my arms like robins’ wings
    and give thanks to the welcoming sun
    You are still there, still snuggled under blankets
    as spring shrugs off her winter coat
    I watch your chest rise and fall
    there was a time when Death almost took you
    a time when I feared the rising dawn
    when awake I would have to face your grave
    But by some supernatural’s hand
    you are still with me
    I still choke on the sun’s rays
    My throat swells with each birds’ song
    and the fresh morning air strikes my lungs
    And yet, no matter the pain
    I spread out my arms and welcome the dawn

    Copyright 2014
    Lori Carlson

  231. India says:

    ~Since When?~

    Since when did tears
    mean weakness?

    Since when did emotions
    mean hysteria?

    Since when did pink and blue
    get designated cubby holes in the kindergarten classroom of life?

    When did being female
    mean softness and gentleness?

    How have we come so far
    and yet not at all?

    How did being human
    mean different things for different people?

    If we are human
    (and let’s assume we are, after all aliens haven’t descended yet)
    is laying ourselves out,
    like sliced pomegranates, seeds scattered over the table
    red stains showing our true selves,
    so bad?
    Why turn the stony exterior? Why the hidden emotions?
    If your break open the hardest man,
    I bet you find a hollow inside, like the most fragile paper mache statue.
    I’d rather be filled with jelly beans.

  232. nmbell says:

    Since Winter

    Since winter ended the geese have come back
    The prairie glows with the purple smoke of the crocus
    Hawks float in the rarefied air over the seeded fields
    Ducks flock to the pot hole ponds dotting the land

    Since winter has gone from my heart
    Spring flowers of hope bloom in my breast
    Light floods back into the dark recesses of my life
    Since winter has ended

    Nancy Bell 2014

  233. De Jackson says:

    since you smiled

    i have been dreaming in ocean
    blue and diving below the surface
    of myself for miles. i think i might
    have sung the sun, begun to
    understand the bidding of this
    breeze. i’ve squeezed the last
    quiet plopped drop out of these
    old veins and stained my own
    skin with poems, which you
    may now read at whim,
      and ever


  234. Lori DeSanti says:

    Since We Must

    I will listen— to the seeds
    that grow like wildfire, that
    feed on darkness in the pit

    of my stomach. We have
    already learned how to thrive
    on the night, I will not curb

    the doubt in the branches
    unfurling against the inside
    of my ribcage. The leaves

    will soon quiver like lung
    tissue, pink as the buds that
    spring open like a child’s hand;

    but the fruit we pick from the
    orchard blooming inside us, we
    must not let loose from our palms.

  235. daydreamwriter says:

    Since That Kiss

    Smiles rise from within,
    a sign of approval.

    Eyes engage, focus,
    feel it in the veins.

    Fingertips explore,
    the softness it holds.

    Words become a whisper,
    infused with desire.

    A romance begins,
    lips to lips.

    Savor this to be,
    the very first one,
    a kiss, you see.

  236. susanjer says:

    Since Physicists Announced On March 17, 2014, The First Detection Of A Gravitational Wave Signal Confirming with 99.9997 Percent Certainty The Inflation Theory That The Cosmos Grew To A Stunning Vast Size In A Trillionth Of A Trillionth Of A Trillionth Of A Second

    scientists say
    the universe is still expanding.
    Not more slowly,
    but at an accelerated rate.

    tulips open
    at their measured pace.
    The Steller’s Jay
    sits for day ten on its eggs.
    I wait, cup in hand,
    for morning coffee to drip
    noting I’ve moved
    up one position
    on the library wait list
    to read the latest
    Inspector Guido Brunetti mystery.

  237. DanielAri says:

    “Since why?”

    the front desk
    guys ask
    for ID—

    new pesky
    task for us.
    What’s the risk?
    What’s the fuss?
    Yo, it’s me!

    Not enough.
    Someone’s butt
    feels the breeze.
    Look askance,

    delete the

    *FUD = Fear. Uncertainty. Doubt.

  238. Jenn Todd Lavanish says:

    Since I Had Children

    Since I Had Children,
    My life is no longer my own.

    Priorities rearranged,
    Demands increase,
    Motherhood is my identity.
    My marriage shifted.

    There is no me to talk about,
    It is all about them.

    No longer do I get paid to work,
    I work because I am needed.

    My benefits are filled with bodily fluids
    Smells both sweet or not.
    Hugs, grasps, kisses and pats.
    Snuggles for safety,
    Music in movements,
    Art in the everyday.

    There is comfort in the routine
    Bathtime, housework, meals and education,
    Emotional, physical, spiritual in balance
    Followed by moments of insanity.

    I live for the next age and stage,
    Milestone moments and memory keeping.

    The bittersweet and the beautiful
    Shine in young smiles

    I see beauty everyday
    I am happy,
    Since I had children.

  239. Anvanya says:

    Since Fuego Arrived

    He sits atop my computer CRT
    every day, half-smiling at me;
    Soft pink underbelly a contrast to
    Plush red skin and daisy yellow foot pads.

    I would have liked for him to have a longer,
    Scalier tail, perhaps eyes larger than the tiny black beads
    Regarding my every thought – maybe more transparent
    And glittery wings:

    But Fuego does his work without extra bling
    Or blang…he loves to be held close to my
    Left breast those times when my mind goes off-track,
    And doubt about my cured cancer rises
    Snake-like, slithering through my daily tasks.

    Fuego, my friend, you are the fire that cleansed
    My chest of unwanted cells, bringing warmth to my
    Troubled mind. I hug you closely and say,
    “Yours was a long journey from China to my home.
    You were the final stage of my recovery –
    When I was able to choose life over death
    by slow chemicals and radiation.”

  240. Jane Shlensky says:

    “Since you mention it”

    had been her primary segue into conversations
    for years but that needed to change—her nerves
    couldn’t take it. Do you have any idea how long
    you have to wait sometimes with suggestions,
    advice, or gossip for some dimwit to mention your
    topic? Sometimes the thread of discussion would
    inch toward the point at which she could say,
    “Since you mention it, I’ve got a suggestion (etc)…”
    only to have someone steal the opportunity away.
    No, if she could not steer the conversation toward
    logical participation, she would just have to bite
    the bullet and adopt a new trademark phrase to
    ease her into others’ affairs. She was field testing,
    “If you ask me,” but her mother had worn that one out,
    and no one ever asked her diddle, no ifs, ands, or buts;
    “if I were you” simply brought attention to the obvious
    fact that I is never you. “Allow me” was too British;
    “You know what you ought to do?” was presumptive,
    and those who just butted into a discussion without
    raising their hands or leading in with an introductory
    clause were just rude, probably the very people that
    blurted out the answers in school before anyone could
    be called on. No, she needed a clause she could
    rely on to announce her entrance at the door of discussion.
    Since you mention it that way,
    how about “May I introduce”?

  241. Since 1982

    when you dragged me to the cemetery,
    tombstones for two on sale,
    the perfect spot, you said
    right between the plots
    reserved for your parents,
    I no longer tap the green hulk bobble head
    on my work desk
    to keep it wobbling
    ivory teeth grimacing
    at anybody daring
    to get too close –
    I know you have your own totems too
    porch swing still creaking in the humid twilight
    of our life
    I say you are my tall glass of iced tea,
    condensation dripping down hands, over chins –
    laughing or crying – sticky hands holding, clasping
    you say you would do it all over again.

  242. JayGee2711 says:

    Since Then I Dreamed

    Of a fluffy orange kitten
    Leaping onto the coffee table
    She crouches
    As if to jump again
    And transforms herself into a feather
    A beautiful feather
    Purple and green
    With a few black spots
    The feather floats
    Into the air
    And down into my hands
    And up again
    It’s a game
    She plays it all the time, you say.
    Neat trick. I laugh.
    I set her down
    And she scampers away.

    Julie Germain

  243. RebekahJ says:

    Since 1943

    Berlin’s saved a spire
    Stark amid the bustling shops
    A ghost who saw fierce
    Flags and boots march tattered home
    To rooms opened to the sky

    DC’s not haunted
    By what burns in ancient sands
    Melts in tropic green
    Hides draped in wood, unpictured
    Or dreams of drowning in light

    Kimberly Gladman Jackson

  244. Funkomatic says:

    Since I Grew a Forest of Ear Hair

    Since I grew a forest of ear hair
    I’ve forgiven my eyebrows
    For their helter-skelter care
    Of hotly disputed borders, we
    Called a truce and try to play fair.

    Since I herniated that disk in my back
    The Great Nose Hair War (as it’s called)
    Surely adds to the sadness of this sack
    At least the rattling sabers of my knees
    Are kept by the treadmill from attack

    Since I woke up sore and stiff in middle age
    Where shoe laces are an indignity away
    I’ve sussed which campaigns to wage
    And which fools to suffer with grace
    To Advil, to Advil! This swelling assuage.

  245. SINCERE

    A heart so true,
    you can’t help but believe
    for it will leave you in awe.
    Every flaw becomes invisible,
    becomes indivisible to your character.
    An honest admittance that
    costs a pittance but has great worth.
    Where else on earth can trust and a faith
    in purity offer surety of a connection
    fair and true. It is up to you to believe,
    he will not deceive. It comes straight from <3 here.
    In your heart you know he's sincere.

  246. Nikki Markle says:

    “Since the Rain Had Stayed Away too Long”

    Since the rain had stayed away too long and the town’s prayers
    All gone unanswered, even despite the faded billboard signs of
    “Sinners repent and pray for rain”

    A sinner herself, or so she’d been told, she took to the night,
    Feet stomping circles, puffs of dust from her soles
    Dancing along in the moonlight.

    Round, round she twirled, her heart on her sleeve with
    Dark eyes raised, she watched for the clouds
    She knew would soon gather.

  247. danieletu says:

    Since Dreams

    Since dreams are roses
    Metaphors on life
    Teddy bears eating a panicked friend
    What sense
    In this subconscious?

    Friend reflects
    Personality trait rejected
    Whose time has now
    Come due.

    Panic suggests
    Lack of control
    So… Panicked friend…
    Lack of control over a rejected personality trait whose time has now come due.

    Eating represents
    Hmm…. Eating a panicked friend becomes
    Anxiety about lack of control over rejected personality trait whose time has now come due.
    Still workable.

    And teddy bears are
    Regressions to
    Early childhood memories
    Longing for reassurance
    …Teddy bears eating a panicked friend equals
    Regressions to early childhood memories of anxiety about lack of control over a rejected personality trait whose time has now come due.

    Hold on, there
    I never had a teddy bear.

    © Danièle Turcotte 04/04/13

  248. LeeAnne Ellyett says:

    Since I cut you up and put you in the freezer,

    I began to prepare,
    You with care
    I washed and rinsed,
    Even your hair,

    Peeled your skin off,
    With a Hurrah,
    Then I chopped off your head,
    Not with dread,

    Now to slice you into bite size pieces,

    Pat you dry,
    Ready to say goodbye,
    Off to the freezer,
    You’ll be a real pleaser,

    Time to clean up,
    Enjoy a Champagne cup,
    The carrots are done,
    Wasn’t that fun!

    What did you think I was putting in the freezer?

  249. Jane Shlensky says:

    Since I fell

    I’ve loved
    the fallen
    able at last
    to see ups embrace downs’

    stretched fingers
    of autumn leaves
    reaching for earth’s brown nest

    bees and birds
    petals on wind
    broken lives flung down by

    And once
    winds lifted
    our neighbor’s barn
    splintered to unmatched sticks
    fire wood

    Limbs snap
    under ice
    storms, strong backs bent
    toward humility
    and spring

    grants lofty
    lives do not stay
    aloft, but become well

  250. James Rodgers says:

    Since the Incense

    Since the incense
    blew my senses,
    smothered all aromas
    under a blanket
    of patchouli and ash;
    since the incense
    made my eyes
    tear up
    so everything I see
    looks like watercolors;
    since the incense
    coated my taste buds
    so everything tastes
    like I’m sucking
    on a hippie’s jacket;
    since the incense
    left a layer of soot and oil
    on my fingers,
    as if I lost my job
    and became a chimney sweep;
    since then,
    all I can hear
    is your breath
    in my ear,
    your giggle,
    your wish,
    your request,
    to let you please
    light just one more.

  251. MaryAnn1067 says:

    Since His Eyes Bored Through Her

    since his eyes bored through her,
    black as the holes burnt in a blanket
    from dropping ash, she thought she’d
    let the matter go.

    at the ragged end of the night
    they sat, face to face, him
    rubber-banding the notes made
    flat to stack, pleatings of paper
    upon paper, thick enough to
    choke a horse

    and, Sunny Jim, she thinks, don’t
    be trying to hide that tail from me–
    I see it, sure enough, snaking
    down the leg of your poxy trousers,
    the hooves, too, you try to hide
    betwixt my sheets, scratching the
    varnish from the bedposts, leaving a
    goatish pong to my bedclothes

    and later, too, as you
    trowel thick-cut marmalade
    upon toast, to go with your
    breakfast-cup of brimstone,
    noxious, redolent of all
    your lies, the curling lips
    pigsflesh fit for
    butchering, exhaling in your stale
    and stinking breath
    the banality of evil

  252. Well, here it comes :-)
    Since dawn
    darkness has been crawling
    and subtle.

    Since birth
    vultures have been watching
    and seemingly asleep.

  253. emmaisan0wl says:

    Since We Saw The Sun
    “since we last saw the sun
    lightning has struck every tree in sight
    and when you speak
    I hear only thunder.
    my love,
    I tried so hard to grow flowers from my fingertips
    with the water I wiped from your cheeks,
    but I kept cutting through the roots by accident
    and nothing ever bloomed.
    my last breath of fresh air was strangled in my throat
    by the weeds that began to sprout in my stomach
    the day you told me you no longer noticed
    the daisies in the cracks
    of the concrete sidewalk.
    my love,
    I cannot help but feel homesick
    when I think of how far off
    summer is.”

  254. since sincerity is not serenity’s chief redeeming value

    driving an aging escalade
    stuck in the middle lane
    idling hard in hell’s original
    parking lot
    sun faded jesus bobbing on the dash
    between us
    no chance of getting out of there
    any time soon
    each of us having already decided
    divorce under palm trees
    might not be that different
    than this living together
    inching forward
    neither of us
    wanting to be first
    to say anything
    at all

  255. Debbie says:


    Another sleepless night.
    When will it all end?
    Or should I say, When will it all begin?

    Tragedy seems almost insensitive.
    Probably because it is.
    It is an individual event that can happen again.

    To one, it may be bodily.
    Yet, to another, it may be heartfelt.
    Either involvement knows a great degree of hurt.

    And even though there is an apparent visage,
    Erect and open like a book,
    It is treacherous to divert.

    The mind sheds any attempts
    at erroneous yet captive schemes.
    Especially when effects of others are thought.

    Unfortunately, patience is a hardnosed dream
    in the feeling of a waiting heart.
    But one must behold even foretold rot.

  256. laurie kolp says:

    Since Blue Was Your Favorite Color

    I notice blue
    bonnets blooming
    on Texas highways,
    blue hues in birds
    not normally blue
    but black and blue
    like grackles’ heads,
    old ladies blue hair
    not on black, but white
    the tint a rinse gone awry,
    a bad dye job like the time
    you pulled up in the garage
    not one, but four (yes 4)
    hours late, your hair
    orange. You said it looked

    better than before first glance
    of green, you’d seen a horror
    movie Frankenstein. Oh, how
    you’d die if social climbers
    disclosed ungodly sheens
    not once, not twice, but three
    times red & gray
    gone green
    gone yellow
    gone orange
    flecks of thread in blue
    couch where we’d sit
    and chat, just the two of us,
    over coffee and blueberry scones.

  257. Gammelor says:

    Since I dyed my hair bright orange

    I see a bird in the mirror
    tropical plumage ready to take flight;
    a coral-reef clown fish
    gliding past anemones;
    a California poppy
    waving wild in the breeze.

    Anything but the drabness of me.

    Gammelor Goodenow

  258. jakkels says:

    Since blank, you know is a wonderous phrase
    With the power of time itself
    With one fell swoop it divides a life
    Into times both before and after
    With imperious grace it defines a fate
    Without judging or forgiving or applauding
    Good times lost, or Evil passed
    It reqards with equanimity
    And the only gift it can bestow
    Is the knowledge of past and present.

  259. Janet Rice Carnahan says:

    SINCE . . .

    The wince,
    Is it as coincidence,
    You won’t mince,
    Your words?

    Then don’t ask why,
    Won’t buy,
    A mince meat pie,
    Or, curds!

  260. De Jackson says:

    Since (and Sensibility)

    Since yesterday,
    she’s shed
    some salt.

    Since yesterday,
    she’s gained
    some fears.

    Since yesterday,
    she’s held
    her breath.

    Since yesterday,
    she’s bowed
    in prayer.

    Since yesterday,
    she’s gazed
    to sky.

    Since yesterday,
    she’s questioned

    Since yesterday,
    she’s brand new,

    Since yesterday,
    His will.


  261. starrynight3 says:

    Since Relapse

    Dropped the plow, I manage to say
    JoAnn G. reminds me,
    Don’t forget

    All those rows, she says,
    Verdant furrows, decades.
    Oh but I dropped

    The plow. Better I never picked it up.
    Don’t go all biblical on me she
    Says, look behind you:

    All those fields, rows and rows
    You’ve plowed,
    And my north forty

    Barely started. There they are
    Line upon line of green some
    Slightly bent, fields of them.

    Our hands, both on the plow,
    I am reminded of the rich dirt beneath
    our feet; see myself in her.

    We can do this.

  262. Linda Hatton says:

    Since You Asked

    When I think of you, I remember
    how you smoothed back rebel
    hairs from raspy forehead instead
    of tonguing sugar-cubed sweetness
    with your words. You stared out
    vacant windows, revealing gritted
    teeth in your eyes. I remember
    how your trench coat nestled you
    to floral stools at that pit stop,
    you grasping tea-cup’s hand-
    le, swigging down black coffee
    from it like a gloomy nightclub.
    When I think of you, I remember
    feeling saved from myself. You pulled
    a rabbit foot from my hat
    with your charm, but in truth, like you,
    it was only an illusion. I was your side-
    show act, a disposable ass-
    istant. So now all I have left is
    to think of you and remember.

    –Linda G Hatton

  263. dolsz35 says:

    Since the Last time That I Blinked

    looking into your eyes
    seeing stars in your pupil
    the Universe in your retina
    I froze
    This moment was so finite
    yet so forever.

  264. Srividya K says:

    Since I moved to Oslo
    – Srividya K

    The day we moved to Oslo
    Four floors did we climb
    Six suitcases up the spiral staircase
    Each weighing twenty four kilos

    Made a note to self
    When asking about a place to stay
    Always ask if there’s a lift
    Dishwasher and washing machine were no help on that day

    I walked around this city
    On winter days so bright
    The chill nipped at my fingers
    But my heart felt oh so light

    Taxi is expensive
    Food so much more
    But helpful people I’ve met
    I’m learning to trust some more

  265. KS20x1 says:

    Since I Have Airline Miles and You Have a Little Time for Me-

    This is a
    poem for every person who
    hates to travel,

    for those who
    explain distance like it’s the
    fucking death penalty;

    walking the plank,
    into the fog, down the
    long green mile;

    or that they
    are just too lonely- you’re
    really only boring.

    My longest relationship
    grew through prison gates, collect
    calls and Saturdays.

    Is it that
    big of a pain to
    call somebody anymore?

    The circumstance isn’t
    to blame; the two people
    in it are.

    The sixty second
    lady was the worst it
    got for me.

    I’m glad I
    wanted to learn what love
    truly feels like.

    Everyone should have
    an experience or several to
    help them grow.

    Anyway, all you
    have is time so call,
    email – get there.

    Yes you have
    options; boat, plane, car or
    you can hitchhike.

    Seriously, at least
    pick up the phone or
    call them back.

    The further away
    the more personal and intimate
    things can get.

    There is no
    downside to building your communication
    skill set either.

    Bonus; a little
    bit of independence and boundaries
    never killed anyone.

    Please stop saying
    your relationships are “doomed” before
    they ever start.

    It isn’t true;
    you just haven’t found the
    right person yet.

    Or more likely;
    you’re to naive to believe
    it could happen.

    And it could
    happen. And it could last.
    Take the chance.

    -kelley stephens

  266. rachfh says:

    Since I’m a Girl by Rachel E. Hicks

    and this is the deadliest country
    on earth in which to be one

    and since I somehow survived
    the unhallowed womb
    and the horror on the faces
    I saw as I popped out

    and since nobody’s namaste-ing me
    because what aspect of the divine is there
    in me to salute

    and since I’m an unwanted loan
    to this man and woman until
    dowry-day and bogey-woman

    mother-in-law, fire in her eyes and hands
    to scorch me for being me (and her)

    since all this
    is true (listen!)

    I’ll try not to make
    a noise

  267. julie e. says:

    I’m borrowing Bruce’s “Lune” recipe for fun.


    The sidewalk dries
    since the sun came out
    paints familiar fresh.


    I dream of places more serene
    with landscapes painted blissful green
    beyond the touch of winter’s chill.
    Although on paper this is Spring,
    my garden doesn’t yield a thing,
    no hyacinth or daffodil.
    But while I search impatiently,
    I spy a robin in the tree
    I listen to his cheerful trill.
    and with his song, I feel no cold.
    As warmer days will soon unfold,
    I find my cure without a pill.

    © Susan Schoeffield

  269. Marjory MT says:

    TRIVERSEN: Poetic Form

    By Marjory M Thompson

    Since time began,
    I’ve been connected true to you
    and you to me.

    Connected ‘fore the stars were hung,
    before the moon reflected light
    before the earth began to spin.

    Connected by a golden thread
    woven through all time and space,
    binding we-two to be as one.

    Long and gold, vibrating thread
    moved by a summer’s breeze
    and captured for a robin’s nest.

    Lifted by winter’s harsh storms,
    it flies,
    but does not break.

    Holding fast,
    connections do not end,
    that started when all time began.

  270. rachelgrace says:

    since closing his eyes…

    He felt the weight of her speech pulling him into sleep
    Breathing to feel his soul
    He swallowed the warm water diving deeper and deeper
    His eyes lulled closed by the waves
    Breathing forced out
    Breathing warmth in
    He was in his conclusion

  271. Margie Fuston says:

    Since the Fall

    Outside the bathroom,
    I pause,
    watch my husband at the bar
    as a snake in silk slides
    her bare underbelly
    against his naked arm.
    I wait for him to disconnect
    flesh from flesh.
    After all,
    it was Eve,
    not Adam,
    who fell for snakes.

  272. jakkels says:

    Since blank, you know is a wonderous phrase
    With the power of time itself
    With one fell swoop it divides a life
    Into times both before and after
    With imperious grace it defines a fate
    Without judging or forgiving or applauding
    Good times lost, or Evil passed
    It reqards with total equanimity
    And the only gift it can bestow
    Is the knowledge of past and present.


    Home should never roam,
    it should be a foundation,
    our plantation where we staked our claim,
    and wore our name proudly

    We ran the neighborhood a bit loudly,
    but respect was always the rule by which we lived.
    I would give anything to be back there again.
    But it is no longer ours, and I haven’t gone there since.

    Memories like curses flood in torrent streams,
    and dreams of that place being our sanctuary were nary in doubt.
    But we lost our clout when Dad passed on.
    It’s gone, and I haven’t gone there since.

    We were nine, and we were fine with it. Our family home
    well known for the brood three generations strong, I had belonged
    to my grandfather, was my mother’s home and our domain.
    It’s emblazoned in my brain, and I haven’t gone there since.

    They say it has changed. A fenced fortress where once we ran free.
    A flowerless clod of dirt where once all the beauties of earth sprouted.
    I always doubted it would never be ours. But life happened quick,
    it makes me sick and wince, and I haven’t gone there since.

    Surely, we all grow up and move on to worlds of our own, but the protection
    of our connection to those faces and that place were yanked from our grasp
    in one fell swoop. I remember a happy place, with all our cramped space
    it brought us closer and I haven’t gone there since.

    If for one day I could just go back to Wood,
    I would reclaim it in our name again, an old friend back in our embrace.
    It would be good to see that place. There is no disgrace in longing,
    it was our sense of belonging, and I haven’t gone there since.

  274. geetakshi says:

    Since She Lost Her Mind

    Everyone’s been extra kind,
    rather generous with
    their looks of pity mixed
    partly with hidden glee:
    “She got what she deserved”-
    “It is only fair”…
    And so on they condone
    what they see as Her loss,
    Her pain, Her dignity exposed.

    These days she sleeps a little
    every night,
    words filled with righteous anger
    echo from the walls around her,
    she seems to be hemmed in…

    She must live,
    she has learnt now,
    that lesson taught by her elders:
    Her honour is everything;
    What about her mind, she had asked
    And was hushed with kind brutality;
    Such words were taboo,
    and so she was marked:
    She is a crazy one,
    they nudge each other and laugh
    as she walks with eyes filled
    with resolute tears that refuse to fall
    and a head that refuses to bow:
    No matter,
    such thoughts as hers fly around
    all the time;
    They are the biggest signs of another lost mind

    ©Geetakshi Arora
    April 4, 2014

  275. ckays1967 says:

    Since the last time

    almost dying is my talent
    the last time changed me
    in subtle ways
    where numbers do not make cents
    where money infuriates my sense
    where words drip with meanings
    and comprehension rolls away from me

    like marbles dropped
    in a jar to count the behaviors
    I want more of

    Since the last time

    almost dying danced with me
    and changed me completely
    when attacking appendixes becomes
    a barren middle aged woman
    the news spilled accidentally in recovery
    yet I still manage to have more
    children than society feels appropriate

    like little people left
    off in hospitals or foster care ought to be
    hidden in the crevices not minivans

    Since the last time

    almost dying lost

  276. Tashtoo says:

    Since We Last Spoke

    Since we last spoke…
    And I mean really talked,
    Not this day by day nothingness
    We use to get us through…

    Since we last spoke
    I’ve changed.
    Perhaps you’ve noticed
    Lending to conversations

    Had in an effort to avoid the obvious.
    The weather’s really not that interesting
    We know it changes

    I need to know you’ve noticed
    So have I

    Natasha Head

  277. keepkeepingmesane says:

    “Since Trampolines”
    By Jeremy Johnson

    Ever since I fell asleep on the trampoline
    I’ve had zero gravity in my dreams,
    And ever since I saw you swimming
    I’ve been in love with water.

    Ever since I fell asleep at the wheel
    I can’t see, but I can feel
    You flying in my passenger seat
    Drifting across heaven’s borders.

  278. L. says:

    Since Thursday, February 27th, 2014, 9:09pm EST

    It was exactly seven months since see you later.
    I sent you a text, saying that later had to wait a year.
    “I know, I was really looking forward to this summer.”
    I waited.
    I crossed my fingers, hoping it was your phone that was out of battery, not us.
    Hoping your cell service was weak, not us.
    Hoping that something was broken and it wasn’t us.
    I cried.
    We were never an “us.”
    I read what you had written over and over again, trying to draw out the meaning I wanted to be there.
    I wanted to be there.
    I went to bed.
    I got up the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.
    I checked my phone each morning. Still nothing from you.
    I was really looking forward to this summer.
    Do you miss me? Do you ever think about me?
    I stopped checking my phone.
    I miss you.
    I made other plans for the summer.
    I read seven books. I think you’d really like a few of them.
    I didn’t delete any of our texts.
    You didn’t say “goodbye,” you said “See you later.”
    The next time I see you, it will be two years since see you later.
    See you later than planned.

  279. julie e. says:


    It’s only been a matter of six weeks, she guesses
    since she left her home, tearing her eyes
    from the catastrophe coming on the wind
    for fear of being grabbed in the fist of the storm
    and replanted upside-down in a neighbor’s field
    though then at least there’d be blessed silence
    from all his words that really can hurt you.

  280. Alfonso Kuchinski says:

    since I found a magic crystal

    Each year
    digging with bare hands
    the center of the earth
    always farther to go,
    these other auras
    appear typical
    obscured by my
    self-precipitated mist.
    Something uncommon
    a sighting reported
    almost discernible
    though changing forms.
    Now near impossibility
    to carry forward,
    engulfed by
    blinding, uncommon light
    makes it so difficult
    to turn away
    since I found
    a magic crystal

  281. novacatmando says:

    Since Franklin

    I hated you, Harpeth River. I tried to rise above you,
    in the warm swell of that unusual November afternoon
    when you rose fodder from cannons and canons,
    spate deathly sermons from muskets and pulpits.
    And those who were not left compost for your banks
    enjoyed the embrace of four pinewood planks to coffin
    our fallen tide, and sojourned with the widow of the south.

  282. shellcook says:

    Since You Are My Daughter

    Since you are my daughter, you surely don’t know
    these words that you fling and angrily throw, and
    the things you don’t tell me burn in my soul.
    The things that you do, you cannot take back.
    Blindingly bright they explode in my brain,
    bringing full circle, these tears as they rain down
    on the grave of my sweet, damaged Mom.

    Since I am a daughter, I know of which I speak.
    The things that you say, indelicately plain,
    will return to haunt you, one sad day.

    With heart searing certainty, I said what I meant.
    I was clear, concise giving voice to my cry,
    ‘Why can’t you understand?’
    I didn’t think twice.

    Of the gut wrenching words you don’t want to hear,
    One day you will understand.
    I stood where you stand, and say what you’ve said.
    It feels so much more stark on the receiving end.

    I flinch, shrink back, and gasp in distress.
    My sweet child what happened?
    Did I really do my best?
    How can I live with these words,
    unconsciously hurled, a sword to my heart.

    This pain of not knowing where to start the
    conversation anew,
    Eats away at me.
    Am I daughter or Mother?
    I’m not sure I can say.

  283. Pat Walsh says:

    Day 4!

    Since Last We Met
    by Patrick J. Walsh

    Since last we met
    I have bought a new frying pan
    and learned to like radicchio
    as long as it is well roasted

    I have driven to the lake
    and waded around the island
    on days when the water is warm

    and I have stood in the yard
    in the cool of the evening
    when there is no rain

    Today I will think of you
    when I look at the book you gave me
    and wonder how the mystery turns out

    I will scan the gray edge of the horizon
    and imagine you viewing the same thin line
    but from the opposite side

    And the sun will set, and the moon transgress
    with no count or care for days or nights
    since last we met

  284. Taylor Mali says:

    Since You Jumped

    I haven’t been able to write
    about anything else.

    Everything—the stars,
    the accidental flute

    I shattered, drunk—
    everything is always you.

  285. SSteele1 says:

    Since I

    Since I was a little boy,
    I sought the things
    that give me joy.

    Since I climbed my first hills,
    I craved the things
    that gave me thrills.

    Since I saw my first shore,
    I found the things
    that taught me more.

    Since I first met my wife,
    I praise the things
    That enrich my life.


    I might as well rhyme.
    I have this blank page, and the time
    and the rage to go gently into that good write.

    I might as well rhyme.
    A poem is as expressive as I can get,
    and I’m of a mind do it all on my dime every time.

    I might as well rhyme.
    Poets are a special breed. We don’t need much
    except a muse and just enough heart to get started.

    Since I’m going to write something anyway,
    I might as well rhyme.
    It’s the best way to know I’m alive.

  287. Patricia Martin says:

    “since I moved here”

    need a shower
    first thing in the morning
    and the boiler is broken again
    and the tap has a leak

    need something else in my life
    or maybe just
    warmth that won’t break
    feelings that won’t leak

    gotta fix it all real quick
    maybe tomorrow

  288. Dennis W says:

    Since I Thatched

    Since I thatched the lawn
    grass peeks green against near walk cement.
    Since I thatched the lawn
    blades straight and tall do not yawn.
    They know well what my thatching meant,
    the sun and rain will be well spent.
    Since I thatched the lawn.

    Dennis Wright, April 4, 2014

  289. Marjory MT says:

    Copywrite – By Marjory M Thompson

    Since the beginning of all time
    I have been connected to you.

    Before the stars were being hung,
    the moon first reflected the sun,
    before time the earth first spun,
    I was connected to you.

    Two golden threads, woven to blend,
    reflecting sunlight and blue skies.
    Vibrated by summer’s breeze, then
    lifted by storms and winds, it flies
    ever connecting me with you.

    A thought, a look, a touch, a word
    since the beginning of all time
    each has connected me to you.

  290. Katie Dixon says:

    The poem below represents my brain towards the end of a busy day.

    “Since This Morning”

    Since this morning,
    I have run out of words
    Out of answers
    At least until tomorrow.

    Since this morning,
    I have run out of patience,
    Out of time,
    At least until tomorrow.

    Since this morning,
    I have run out of cohesiveness,
    Out of logic,
    At least until tomorrow.

    As of this night,
    I am grateful for mornings,
    For new days,
    At least until tomorrow.

  291. Bruce Niedt says:

    And here’s a short “since lune”:

    Since You Asked

    here’s a picture
    of my very first grandchild –
    you didn’t ask?

  292. Shennon says:

    Since I ate that last
    My stomach won’t quit

    Fifty-two dogs
    Most barely chewed
    That’s at least
    five dogs per minute

    Keeping my lips compressed
    I try not to feel nauseous.
    With head pounding
    and vision starting to swim
    I see a man approach

    A large silver watch
    catches on his suit jacket
    as he lifts my arm high
    and announces
    “Congratulations to the new
    Hot Dog Eating Champion
    of Gasconade County!”


  293. Bruce Niedt says:

    Tody’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a “lune”, There are apparently several versions of this haiku-like form, including one that Robert used for a contest some time ago, but this version of the lune is from Jack Collum – very simple: three words in the first line, five in the second, three in the third. This is what I call a “lune series”:

    Since the Last Snow

    we’ve put away
    the shovels, the rock salt
    for another year

    we’ve unbundled ourselves,
    opened doors, pulled up shades
    looking for green

    we’ve watched robins
    wander in our thawing yard
    hunting for breakfast

    we’ve driven everywhere
    playing our favorite music loud
    windows rolled down

    we’ve started digging
    in the cool loam, planting
    for the future

  294. Gabrielle Freeman says:

    Since you weren’t using it,

    I swam in your pool last Tuesday morning.
    Your blue foam floaty with the head pillow
    is perfect for watching thin clouds creep
    across the silver sky like dust bunnies
    when someone quick opens a door. They tumble.
    And since you weren’t using it, I let myself in
    and walked around your house in the deep
    brown leather slippers with top stitching
    and sheepskin that you always set neatly
    next to your side of the bed with the toes pointed
    out so you can slip into them at three
    in the morning when you wake up to wander
    and draw water. They are so soft
    and they make a satisfying shuffle
    over your chocolate walnut floors like
    rubbing dry flesh with the palm. Since
    you weren’t using it, I poured a glass
    of your good chardonnay into the stemless
    glass you carry with you to bed and wash
    and set to dry each morning before you make
    the coffee. Your bed is firm and full
    with lavender and coconut. Your detergent,
    your shampoo. You weren’t using it,
    but I put everything back exactly,
    since it was time for you to come home.
    There’s no sign that I was ever there.

    Please see the entry at my writing process blog http://www.ladyrandom.com Thanks for reading!


    the island, fading light’s
    softened the bulldozers’
    wreckage, the locked gates
    announcing no more public access.

    Wind stacks the clouds
    overhead like clean laundry,
    maybe an edge or two
    needing more scrubbing.

    Dogs fling themselves
    at the surf, chasing frisbees.
    A kite like some Jurassic fledgling
    keeps plummeting into the waves.

    The wind has been waiting
    to push back as we seek
    the washed-away boardwalk
    where once we had stood.
    The wind never left,
    as we did, as we will again,
    another day’s check-out.
    On the causeway, we’ll drive

    past the freighters unloading cars,
    gambling boats docked
    for the night’s round of passengers.
    “Sold out”

    their ads warn.
    “Don’t let your best slots
    sail away. Every night
    standing room only.”

  296. poetrycurator says:

    Here is my Since (blank) Haiku for day 4

    Since Ponce de Leon searched for

    We flock to white sands,
    Since Ponce de Leon searched for
    The Fountain of Youth.

    By Denise Fletcher Copyright © 2014

  297. Janet Rice Carnahan says:


    No matter what my mind had to say,
    Another voice,
    A deeper clarity,
    A truer understanding came.
    Not sure what it was,
    Catching my attention,
    Offering another perspective,
    An additional view,
    A greater perception,
    The guidance was unmistakable,
    Taking pause,
    Holding steady,
    Making conscious time,
    Became the only request,
    Along with one word,
    One consistent meaning,
    A single focus,
    An individual reminder . . .

    L. I. S. T. E. N.

  298. gus says:

    Day 4: Since I last saw you

    It’s been quite a while
    Since I’ve seen you around,
    Since I’ve last seen your smile,
    Since you’ve last made a sound.

    It’s been oh so long
    Since I’ve seen you my dear.
    Since I wrote you that song,
    Since you shed that last tear.

    I can not believe
    That I’m with you again!
    Even if it means
    That were still just friends.

    And even though I turn
    As I tell you goodbye,
    At least you won’t know
    That as I say it, I cry.

    -Gus Gonzalez

  299. jodyfitzgibbon says:


    Since you’re not a mother
    (and you so wanted to be)
    Don’t cry any longer for the one little face
    For there are yet many
    Who need to be held
    In warm arms that are loving like yours

    Since you’re not a mother
    From natural birth
    Don’t let that small fact hold you back any more
    Find the hand that is small
    Maybe forgotten today
    Longing to feel your own flesh and blood

    Since you’re not a mother
    With young ones clinging around
    You’re free to have children by the hundreds, you see,
    Touch them with your giving
    Of yourself selflessly
    By face-to-face grinning or prayers AND much love.

  300. Janet Rice Carnahan says:


    Stepping out of my car,
    My eye was caught by a star,

    Transfixed, I stopped in awe,
    Wondering what was the draw,

    She twinkled and seemed to smile,
    I stared at her quite awhile,

    Not knowing what else to do,
    I took a photo, as if I knew!

    She captivated me further into the night,
    As if I was led by her light,

    My heart seemed to hear her speak,
    The rest of me growing quite weak,

    I realized it was Venus, who spoke,
    Only Venus could use love to evoke,

    A passion so deep,
    It interrupted my sleep,

    As she pulled on my heart string,
    I felt the whole universe sing,

    I posted the photo of her,
    With loving words, just to be sure,

    As if to say, who else can hear her heart?
    Opening theirs for a new start!

    An answer came in the dark,
    A loving whisper, a quiet “Hark”!

    A new connection,
    Truly felt affection,

    Through each written word,
    Previously unheard,

    Appeared to respond, “Yes,
    I heard you speak, I confess”.

    In that moment, a new love was born,
    With Venus, of course, blowing her horn,

    From that moment until now,
    Venus moved my heart somehow,

    Since that night she pointed the way,
    Venus clearly had her say.

    What was going to be an ordinary evening!
    Instead set two hearts to sing!

    Next time the heavens speak so clearly,
    I hope to say thank you . . .


  301. Eibhlin says:

    Since that afternoon
    a dozen years ago
    when I stumbled up and out
    of subway darkness

    and slapped my sun-stunned eyes
    on your brazen, enormous rotundity,

    I grin every time I pass you by,
    o unrepentant,
    Roman Coliseum.

  302. d dyson says:

    Since the weather decided to pack up and leave

    we have all been in a bit of a state.
    The grass will not grow,
    the sun has gone home,
    along with the moon, its new mate.

    The sky is stricken with loss
    but cannot cry
    as the rain scampered off
    leaving us bone dry.

    The wind is having a lovely vacation
    with snow, sleet and hail,
    whilst the sea is a tad bewildered
    and a smidgen pale.

    Since the weather decided to pack up and leave,
    we have all been a bit stuck for words,
    the land is bleak,
    the trees feel weak,
    with not a scrap of a forecast to be heard.

  303. rhiain30 says:

    “since you’re done”

    I cannot read minds
    and eyes are just eyes
    but you do not need either
    to declare this or that

    in the meantime, I need to go

    next time, just send a messenger
    perhaps then, your mouth will do more
    than make a moue

  304. Blaise says:


    Mom could stop our dinner table talking
    with two mono syllable words
    and no profanity,
    imaginary heels dug in,
    righteous chest puffed out,
    whatever just spoken
    whacked away out of play.
    Since when?
    Her boundaries were fixed,
    closed to the new,
    beyond question.
    Dinner continued in silence.

  305. Amaria says:

    “Since you asked me”

    Since you asked me
    why I have no man,
    is it still wrong
    for a grown woman
    to be alone?
    Am I weird to you?
    Do I frighten you?
    Because I walk on
    my own two feet
    trying to survive
    this thing called life.
    What does my looks
    have to do with it?
    A pretty face
    does not equate that
    I should have a mate.
    Perhaps I don’t have
    the time to bat
    my pretty brown eyes
    to ensnare a prize.
    You say that I should
    have men following
    my every little move.
    And maybe that is
    the problem I have.
    I don’t always want
    to be the lamb,
    chased by hungry wolves.
    Maybe, just once, I
    want to be the wolf
    hunting prey in the
    woods, salivating
    the scent of my prize
    whispering why
    you smell so good?

  306. Ever since

    Ever since on summer wind, a glimpse of squandered reason
    In unintended arrogance, drifted past unfettered
    A soft caress on gentle breeze, strengthening with time
    Shredded debris of unspoken thoughts, distant dreams
    Spiraling skyward in spite of outstretched arms
    Cold embraces, unmet gazes, silence misconstrued
    Obstacles are chronicled, presented for refute
    Scattered in a summer wind, fragments in its wake
    Breathless loss, astonished wonder, images unchanged
    Pacing seasons, restless slumber, mirthless days on end
    Searching eyes and anxious heart await the summer wind.

    diedre Knight

  307. elledoubleyoo says:

    Since the Last Earthquake

    Each time the earth rumbles, I fear
    it’s protesting the pressures
    of living, one foot in sea
    and one on shore, threatening
    to make a break for the water.

    Who could fault it?
    The Pacific promises tranquility
    by virtue of its name alone.

    This time it’s merely the UPS truck
    that rattles my windows and doors,
    making the last delivery by five
    the only pressure
    on the brown-clad driver’s mind.

  308. Janet Rice Carnahan says:


    A rock spoke to me,
    Seeking the beach in my heart,
    Red flame etched on stone.

  309. Tracy Davidson says:

    Since I turned 40

    Tick tock, tick tock
    goes my
    biological clock.

    Relatives natter:
    “When will we hear
    the pitter-patter

    of tiny feet
    to make her life

    I say “Get stuffed,
    my life’s
    complete enough.”

  310. phocus says:

    Since Forever
    (To my older brother)

    When I was born you were already there
    Waiting for me
    Having arrived only eleven month before
    You shared with me your birth year and
    We were both winter babies

    We were close like twins:
    Slept in the same crib
    Bathed in the same tub
    Ate from the same spoon
    Played the same games
    And had the same friends

    I never felt alone because of you
    I never needed a companion, because of you
    I already had a best friend, because of you

    You understood me without explanations
    Without expectations
    Without added drama
    Just like that.

    © Uta Raina, April 2014

  311. Linda Goin says:

    Since there’s always an end

    to any current craziness,
    I can put that emptiness
    on boil and walk away. I won’t

    return to check the burners,
    I won’t lock the door. No one
    will ransack my bottomless

    wants if I leave the windows
    broken. If I return to count
    my pots, pans, and pastiche,

    I soon identify with ravenous.
    But all the things I needed
    before seem even stranger.

    I could keep the elements
    on high and fight for the only
    hunger worth fighting for,

    but my request to return
    that need is voracious.
    There’s always an end. In ten

    years it will change. I don’t
    have to hold my foot in the door
    to keep my wish open, because

    the answer is behind another door.

  312. DanielAri says:

    “Since 1980″

    A sleeping bag and a sofa cushion,
    a concentrated friction and a give,
    the physiology of sensation—
    if I knew then what I know now, I’d have
    invested in Kleenex corporation.

    Coalesced from childhood, my believer’s
    pilgrimage and shrine. Physical mantra
    woven through every conception I lived.
    I was a man—forget the Bar Mitzvah.
    My text opened for interpretation.

    That’s why I look at my daughter with awe.
    She hasn’t yet met her 1980,
    but takes roles in proto-adult dramas
    on the playground at recess. Our bodies
    are starships starring in television

    series, written with geometrically
    increasing tilts, joys and calamities.

  313. HoskingPoet says:

    Since You Were Born

    Thirteen years ago
    A baby girl was born
    Happy birthday, Gretchen

    Mom is powerless
    To prevent years slipping by
    Her baby disappears

    Today we celebrate
    A girl who hates birthdays
    But loves Legos

    Mom is dumbstruck
    House has two teenage girls
    It can’t be…

    Oh no, thirteen!

  314. Tracy Davidson says:

    Since we met

    I watched you last night,
    while you were sleeping.
    In repose your frown lines disappear.
    You look younger, carefree,
    like you were when we met.

    I often dream of that day,
    seeing you for the first time.
    You don’t expect to find your soul-mate
    in a kebab shop at midnight,
    but there you were.

    Every day since then
    my love for you has grown.
    I never tire of looking at you.
    Life would be perfect if once,
    just once, you would look at me too.

    But life is far from perfect,
    and I go unnoticed.
    So night after night
    I stand outside your window
    and watch you sleep.

  315. Tracy Davidson says:

    Since Fukushima

    a ghost town
    someone’s pet dog, now feral,
    the only life
    that moves along the shadows
    of empty homes, abandoned cars

  316. SuziBwritin says:


    Since you left
    Goodbyes make me cry
    Movies where they part
    Trips – Regardless of who leaves
    Graduations – It’s the endings that hurt
    Death -The finality of the moment passing
    Never to come again
    I tell my heart
    Each ending is a new beginning
    The treacherous organ has learned
    to circumvent my lies
    with a tinge of resentment
    Yet another parting, another farewell
    Big or small
    It matters not
    Resentment turns to pain
    And then the tears
    The reminder that the scar
    Ripped open over and over again
    Is not a scar at all
    (For scar tissue grows stronger than
    he original skin it’s meant to replace)
    But a wound that will never heal

  317. Prompt: since (yesterday)
    since yesterday
    a melody makes the rounds
    in my head…
    the trail of smoke floats
    then dissipates

  318. Prompt: since (childhood)
    since childhood
    the taste of cherries
    and you

  319. Zart_is says:

    Since It Rained

    there were rivers where there used to be streams,
    lakes where there used to be streets,
    oceans in corn fields,
    water over the banks of creek beds
    where trees waded knee deep
    like girls, holding their branches up
    instead of skirts
    melting snow and rain torrential
    driving over rocks and steps and curbs
    filling the little cup we leave out for the winter birds
    seeds splashed onto the ground with each drenching

    it is so cold that everything is coated in glass
    I removed a perfect ice replica of the cup
    to make room for dry seeds
    rewarding the sparrow, who
    just to spite the bitter weather
    perched by my window expectantly
    singing for his supper.

  320. pmwanken says:


    Years have passed
    since I saw you last;
    yet rarely
    a day goes
    by that I don’t think about
    how much I love you.

    I see you
    in Redbud blossoms,
    a wren’s nest,
    and even
    in the stormy clouds that bring
    the Spring time showers.

    Your birthday
    is just around the
    corner. The
    fourth one to
    be celebrated without
    you. I miss you, Dad.

    P. Wanken

  321. Since She Said It
    It turns out that
    break with hardly a sound,
    the soft sigh of settling in for a cold,
    cold night-
    a glacier slipping into the sea,
    trading silence for silence.

    *a sort of sequel to one my day 3 entry, Tender and Stone.

  322. Since I Stopped Crying, a Waltz
    (By Rodrigo Aleixo)

    A despair to find joy grabbed my hand
    in a way no true happiness would even dare.
    I wore all kinds of mask on that ball
    to hide the stains of tears and fears
    my soul impregnated my face with.
    Had I soaked it all in ice
    I would have suffered less, one might think,
    as all the swelling around my eyes
    made it look like I had been on wine
    and aspirins (for far too long)
    but no, sir.
    I had tried to force a smile on my visage,
    the kind you only get when you are merry,
    but mine almost looked like
    it was going
    to crack;
    and no mask could hide
    a thing, any
    We danced all night that day,
    That daring despair and I.

  323. DanielR says:

    The suns yellow afterglow
    shines down
    on broken lives in shambles.
    Scattered pieces of histories
    collected in heaps and mounds.
    Intimate clothes strewn across yards
    reveal too much about neighbors
    just waved to on occasion.
    Wandering dogs sniff the air
    for familiar scents,
    hunting lost owners.
    And courageous faces
    blossom amidst devastation,
    preparing to start again.

    Daniel Roessler

    (for Fred)

    Pussy willows bristle at the end of the lane,
    and the bluebirds roam. The last of the salt
    hummocks over the stairs. Women put on
    short skirts, and the boys whistle while they go
    to buy bread and oranges. Party streamers hang
    pink from the houses like uncombed hair.
    Motorcycles purr round the edges of cities
    and soldiers come home. Paper lanterns
    shine from every window. Afternoons are quiet,
    evenings grow calmer than fossilized bone.
    And even the dead do not roll in their graves.
    From the kiss to the sky, everything is
    equally filled with promise. Even God has grown
    a little more honest.


    We ran into each other
    at the market
    poking and prodding the pears,

    assessing them like the men
    in our lives,
    drawn in by the promise

    of sweetness while tenderly pressing
    to uncover the
    hidden bruises that always seem

    to spoil the moments we
    long to savor

  326. bartonsmock says:

    -since naming the baby-

    I’ve petitioned my brother’s death to become a delayed reaction to his memory of faking it, consoled my sister who on a good day counts to three, and started The Language School of Jesus Christ.


    the nesting box that hangs from the oak
    over old-dog graves
    holds three blue eggs, quite cold,
    as if the winter of birds incubated inside.

    Neon-sky flashes – bluebirds
    skimming grass, our bare-dirt field
    at last greening after so many
    months of no rain. The land always tries
    to come back, like bluebirds.
    Tomorrow maybe four eggs; then five; six?
    The mother will begin brooding.

    In last night’s dream I tossed handfuls
    of seed at a bell in a broken tower. Strange
    roses bloomed upside-down.
    Whitman’s lines sailed kites in blue air.

    This is the box where last year I found six
    fully feathered nestlings; not an eye-
    lid moved. Parents gone – killed by a hawk?
    I pulled a baby corpse out by its stiff
    blue wing. The dead heap flickered. One
    chick came to life, flew away. Four more,
    buried under the dead, became blue sky.

  328. JRSimmang says:


    I and she (the endless horizon)
    have met our match. We say be bygones,
    but I’ve stabbed at Hell, and caught the white whale,
    and took him back to where he belongs.

    -JR Simmang


    Since I found my mojo
    Things are fine
    And my confidence is soaring.
    There’s still a way to go
    But it’s mine
    so I won’t let life get boring.

    Since I found my humor
    I just laugh.
    It seems I find everything funny.
    There’s this vicious rumor
    That I’m daft,
    But it rarely makes me money!

    Since I found my style,
    People think
    It must be easy to be me.
    But I sit and smile,
    And I wink,
    It is much harder than they see!

  330. Talai says:

    Since I left my country
    Settling in a place of bounty
    In another country
    I am a stranger

    Do not confuse me for a refugee
    War, I do not bring thee
    Loneliness my daily fight
    Far from family and friends

    When will I feel at home here
    When will I not fear
    The stares on my hair
    The tight grip on their purses

  331. alana sherman says:

    Day 4 Since

    Since I Couldn’t Sleep

    About four a.m.
    I looked out the window.
    The stars were there—
    a comfort, all that twinkling—
    not searching for anything
    not lost, without fear.
    The stars don’t slumber,
    are not forsaken.
    My heart accepts this—
    Here before me, here long after —
    It’s good to know
    some things last longer
    than love, longer than sorrow.

    and one more since…


    It’s all a game of chance
    (no matter what Einstein said!)
    When we are alone
    in the dark 186,300mps
    rips away everything
    but truth. Alone
    in the dark we know
    twisted limbs don’t birth
    philosophy or art. They
    aren’t even a good story.
    Only thought, a laugh,
    the holdings of the heart,
    to stand between us and hurt.


  332. sallenwright says:

    Since 42 Blue

    The house that you and I built
    Really just a meadow and a pile of old bricks
    But we loved here
    And dreamed
    Shared one pulse

    Since then I don’t dream anymore
    Our meadow now concrete and steel
    And the flowers have all gone

  333. pcm says:

    Since when

    Since when did we measure
    time? Before the specious
    present or Newton’s cause
    and effectiveness, the
    Greeks read stories in the stars,
    Romans dialed the sun
    to harvest daylight and
    labyrinths tracked the seasons
    of the moon. I bet cave women
    gestured to the hearth and sky
    wondering if their men
    would die before nightfall.

  334. Since Age Fifteen
    by Daniel Boster

    I’ve wanted
    to be
    an old man.

    Sure, in between,
    I hoped for professional athlete,
    and then poet.
    I had a vision:
    first NBA player to win
    the Pulitzer,
    from shorts on shiny courts
    and my own line of high tops
    to a pipe and sports coat,
    elbow patches, of course.

    I’d work on peripheral vision
    for highlight reel passes
    but also to see geese
    lift silently from a pond.
    I’d have strong hands
    for perfect jump shots
    and then for lifting
    the weight of words.

    During last week’s driveway game,
    my son’s baseline jumper
    was too good for me to stop.
    The birds around us
    flitting in my eyes, as
    I watch him move, a vision
    of me then, of him later.

    This morning,
    out of the corner of my eye,
    a white string on the shoulder of
    my dark sweater was actually
    a gray hair
    from my unkempt beard.

  335. Since You Left

    Since you left, it’s like you died.
    But I can’t mourn your passing.
    At each turn, I see you there
    and I can hear you laughing.
    Oh, how I wish you’d come back.

    Your clothes hang in the closet.
    There’s your fifty pairs of shoes.
    The tomatoes are rotting.
    I hope they are all I’ll lose.
    Oh, how I wish you’d come back.

    The words are left unspoken.
    For the reason, I still strive.
    I have hope for tomorrow.
    ‘Cause I know you’re still alive.
    Oh, how I wish you’d come back.

  336. Day 4

    Write a poem titled “Since ____.”

    Since November

    Months later, picturing finding her outside in fall sunshine,
    cradling iPhone to her ear,
    I feel my stomach tighten and roll,
    gut-punch of her sudden news that day,
    “I’m leaving.”

    Even sicker feeling, learning that her ride
    wasn’t coming in three hours but fifteen minutes,
    and I didn’t know. I never knew anything,
    all the time she was here: the well-masked anxious
    thoughts and dissatisfaction, the expectations never voiced.

    The van backed out of the driveway, and I waved
    goodbye wearing my own mask,
    letting her slip out of sight before tears of frustration,
    anger, guilt, loss, spilled over my eyelids.
    Nothing I could do or say, no way to change this outcome.

    I learned more later, but never enough to satisfy,
    about the why. Nothing could console me over
    never being warned that she was leaving.
    I’ve seen her twice since then. I’m wary. I can’t risk
    being hurt that way again.

  337. Since she learned to cook Rotini
    Making nothing else beside it
    No one fits in their bikini
    They’re all fat and try to hide it

  338. gmagrady says:


    I showered
    I made lunches
    I prepared breakfast
    I checked my emails, texts, Facebook
    I got everyone to where they need to be, myself included
    I sat at my desk
    I reviewed my lessons
    I wrote my objectives for all to see
    I updated the website
    I scored a few tests
    I inputted the grades from last night’s essays
    I changed the date
    I filed the papers
    I created my sixteen-point to-do list
    I ran my fingers through my hair
    I listened to the ring of the bell,
    to the stomping of eager feet,
    to the muffled laughter and chit-chat
    of youthful, morning energy…
    I said a prayer
    I wished for another cup of coffee.

  339. Since I Began Writing

    Since I began writing,
    the six week course
    I took in typing
    has come in handy,
    unlike the years of
    math and history.

    Since I began writing,
    English classes proved
    to be valuable
    despite the English
    teacher being so old
    she wore mismatched shoes.

    Since I began writing
    I’ve learned how to learn
    as I research my stories
    and delight in discovery,
    leaving most high school
    and college classes in the dust.

    Since I began writing
    I became more in touch with myself
    and have come to enjoy
    who I am, less maimed
    by fear, inferiority
    and inadequacy.

    Since I began writing,
    I have something to offer
    the world at large.
    I’m more creative, hopeful,
    no longer chained
    to scientific reasoning.

    Since I began writing
    I’ve branched out
    to other creative pursuits
    like drawing and painting.
    I no longer say,
    the drawing fairy passed me by.

    But most importantly,
    I can more easily recognize
    God speaking back to me as I pray,
    as I tap out words
    that bypass my brain
    and encourage my own soul.

  340. foodpoet says:

    Since yesterday
    Nothing has changed
    I the adult
    Hold your aged memoryless hand
    Nothing has changed
    Since yesterday

    Megan McDonald

  341. JWLaviguer says:

    Since Nobody is Paying Attention

    Since nobody is paying attention
    I’m just gonna stop right here
    and scratch myself

    Since nobody is paying attention
    I’m gonna sing at the top of my lungs
    in my car at the red light

    Since nobody is paying attention
    I’m going to take an extra bagel
    in the break room and save it for later

    Since nobody is paying attention
    I feel so alone.

    JW Laviguer

  342. foodpoet says:

    Since I can no longer eat you
    I crave
    Nachos oh the salted bite of
    Cheese. Sigh the
    Eternal rabbit food…

    Megan McDonald

  343. cam45237 says:

    New Growth

    Since yesterday when I planted my dogwood tree
    I’ve been dreaming
    Of green growth and the glory of blossoms
    I’ve imagined
    That these few bare branches and this insubstantial stem
    With its hidden whisper of roots
    Could, with occasional rain
    With occasional sun

  344. elledoubleyoo says:

    Sometimes to get my writer muscles moving, I write a response to another poet. This is a response to ee cumming’s “since feeling is first.” We’ll see if another poem comes out of me today.

    since e.e. cumming said

    feeling is first
    yet made me pay attention
    to the syntax of things
    will all always wholly grab me;

    wholly to be a thrall
    for words well used in the world

    my mind approves,
    and kisses are worse fate
    than stupidity.
    lord, i swear by all dictionaries. Don’t try
    –the best gesture of your pecs is less than
    your tongue’s flicker which says

    we are for each other: then
    woo, using all the best words
    for life’s not a text message

    and death i think is an epic poem.

    • elledoubleyoo says:

      correction, with poor ee’s last name spelled correctly!

      since e.e. cummings said

      feeling is first
      yet made me pay attention
      to the syntax of things
      will all always wholly grab me;

      wholly to be a thrall
      for words well used in the world

      my mind approves,
      and kisses are worse fate
      than stupidity.
      lord, i swear by all dictionaries. Don’t try
      –the best gesture of your pecs is less than
      your tongue’s flicker which says

      we are for each other: then
      woo, using all the best words
      for life’s not a text message

      and death i think is an epic poem.

  345. Domino says:


    How did you real
    -lies my heart was damn
    -aged by your dupe

    Who were you really
    when I be
    -(lie)ved in you?

    What gave you
    your first clue that I knew
    about your barf
    -lie girlfri(end),

    When did you know
    -tice I was gone?

    Where were you when I sat
    -isfied my own
    -ly (lone
    -ly) dreams?

    And why are you so angry?
    Is it because I’m fine
    -ally getting away from your sin

    Diana Terrill Clark

  346. gl86 says:

    We Never Leave the Places We’ve Lived

    Since I left Boston, Boston hasn’t left me.
    I still roam the Common in Spring,
    drunken with the youthful possibility
    of what my tomorrow would bring.

    By the reflecting pool, midday in June,
    I hear children’s shrieks of delight
    and hours pass, ‘til the glow of the moon
    dances on the water in mystic twilight.

    I still hear the roar of the crowd
    when Boston broke that wicked curse
    and Red Sox fans, impassioned and proud
    took to the streets, chanting their verse.

    And I still go North of Boston each Fall
    to take in Frost’s world as it was and will be
    and the yellow woods of the birch woods call
    to my nostalgic heart – sweet memory!

  347. xxnikkixx says:

    Day 4

    Since We Met

    Since we met,
    A light had spark.
    Now it’s a little less dark
    In this small vicinity I kept.

    Since we met,
    My face grew bright
    Today, I know now no fright
    And never again shall I be fetched.

    Since we met,
    Words left me.
    Now I do not know how to tell thee
    My gratitude that is extremely fervent.

    My friend, this is ending
    But my friend, this is not the last.
    Soon, we will meet on our cusp
    And our friendship shall be the most overwhelming.

  348. donaldillich says:

    Since I Walked Away

    First, I should’ve ran, not walked.
    Or better yet, sped away in a Corvette
    that was going to be impounded,
    or zipped by on the only paid for vehicle
    in your entire driveway, the motorcycle.
    Instead, I packed my goods on a stick,
    hobo-style, and believed I’d reach
    the city by nightfall if I paced myself.
    When you chased behind me, then
    dragged my arm toward your home,
    which was going to be foreclosed,
    I had a hard time shaking you loose.
    “Come on, baby. Remember the good
    times. We can work out the finances.”
    It wasn’t entirely my fault: I ate caviar
    like potato chips, had a whole desk
    dedicated to authentic turquoise jewelry.
    You cajoled me, you threatened to
    do yourself in, you begged for mercy.
    Finally, I found a cab on a wide road,
    shook my head at the whole situation.
    Memories of being on your Harley,
    as you zipped through traffic, fearless,
    kept playing in my head. What other
    man would thrill me that way, despite
    his illegal ponzi scheme, a possible
    sentence that might make me wait
    two years for you to reappear in my life.
    I sat in the back of the cab in front
    of my new apartment, the boxes
    waiting for me to unpack. Could I
    remove those salt and pepper shakers,
    shaped like angels I had in childhood?
    Or write in the expensive journal
    you bought for me on a trip to Italy?
    “Are you getting out here or not?”
    I had the feeling I should walk away.
    But I wasn’t sure in what direction.

  349. Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Since Poem

    Since I Can’t Do It All

    Even wonder woman
    must have had a laundry day
    where her cape is tossed
    to tumble on its own
    leaving her time to press
    a coffee cup to her cheek
    and let the warmth of it
    wash over her
    and let her fold
    her eyes and ears
    to the ever cycling demands
    of a world in need
    until the insistent buzzer
    finally says her chore
    is done.

  350. kab says:

    It is what I buried in the plates after they broke themselves simultaneously.
    It is what I’ve told my neighbors when that hurricane turned
    New York into the lost city.
    It is what I gouged into the dinner table after it refused to keep
    Since you is what I chiseled into the drywall.
    It is what hides beneath the bed.
    It is what’s stuffed behind the couch.
    It is the sound that dances in the vent, keeping me awake at night.
    It is the shower refusing to rain
    It is me pulling out my teeth.
    It is my heart turning into a savage mountain.
    Since you I demolished the kitchen.
    Since you, I cannot hear the word stay without spitting up a
    whole country.
    Since you, I cannot say your name without the floorboards
    tearing themselves out of the ground.
    Since you is your absence spinning down the hall.
    Since you is cradled in my mouth.
    Since you is sleeping on my tongue.
    Since you is starting a fire in my skull
    Since you is leaving a bruise the size of Russia wedged into
    my trachea.
    Since you, I have hated you in ruthless forest fires.
    Since you, I have missed you in beastly, little earthquakes.
    Since you, I have loved you in tiny awful apocalypses
    Since You, I have called every year just to tell you this
    -Karese Burrows “Since You”

  351. viv says:

    Since first I saw your face the world
    has changed, not for the better:
    famine, constant war, intolerance
    make life a misery for many.
    But since we wed thirty years ago
    we have on the whole been lucky,
    a happy home in a perfect place,
    growing old together.

  352. JanetRuth says:

    Since David the Psalmist and Shakespeare and Frost

    Since David the Psalmist,
    And Shakespeare and Frost
    Since Marvell and Milton and Clare
    Since Browning and Dickinson, Kipling and Yeats
    Poetry spills everywhere

    Since Coleridge, Tennyson,
    Shelley, Wheeler, Blake
    Since Byron, Longfellow and Guest
    Wordsworth and Whitman and Herrick and Donne
    Poetry speaks the heart best

    Since Whittier, Rossetti,
    Wyatt, Watts and Poe
    Raleigh, Patmore, Phillips and Wilde
    Lawrence and Hardy and Drummond and Burns
    Poetry is heaven’s Child

    Since Collins and Cowper,
    Fitzgerald, Bronte
    Since Lincoln, Kilmer and Riley
    We touch the soul
    Though time’s centuries roll
    Of God-kisses in poetry

    …to name just a few!

  353. Carl Palmer says:

    Since you asked,

    I live in a single level house, no upstairs.
    Only one floor, but I live on the second story,
    the second one I wrote over five years ago.

    This doesn’t make me famous by any means,
    but an accomplishment that I obtained a goal,
    got a story published, got paid, made my mark.

    When asked what I do, I have an answer. “I write.”
    In response to the next query, “been published?”
    I reply, “Why yes, thank you, I most certainly have.”

  354. PSC in CT says:

    Since the Big Bang

    We started in the stars
    some 10 to 15 billion years ago
    (give or take a few)
    and a lot has happened
    since then.
    Species — extant & extinct,
    known and un- and
    those as yet to be — we
    travel the galaxy,
    circling our solar system,
    each of us sharing similar stardust origins;
    created, begotten, made up by chance, happenstance,
    variation & recombination of the same
    simple, little building blocks:
    deoxyribonucleic acid, DNA
    (like Legos, if you will):
    a genetic alphabet – musical notes
    on a magical scale —
    in quest
    of harmony.


  355. Since Your Blindness to Speaking Stars

    The truth of you
    comes in small doses.
    The lavender moments of calm acceptance,
    as well as the blue clarity
    just above cloud cover –
    of human weakness.

    We are frail.
    We fall.
    We trust too much.
    We don’t trust enough.

    This hand of yours that shakes
    for human touch.
    Your heart walks through
    the noise of doubt –
    finds solace
    in the many, common beats.

    We hold them close –
    fear and longing.
    The clutch of papers
    to chest –
    the blindness to speaking stars.

    This is the truth of you.
    You shout.
    You weep.
    You jump.
    You stand still –
    but most of the time,
    you love.

    Cristina M. R. Norcross
    Copyright 2014

  356. jclenhardt says:

    Since Yesterday

    Since yesterday,
    I hadn’t given
    a second thought,
    into the first minute,
    since yesterday,
    or the second minute
    after that,
    or the third, or forth,
    or going forward,
    counting hence,
    since yesterday,
    you hadn’t crossed
    my mind, not once,
    in the 86,400 seconds,
    1,400 minutes
    there are to count,
    in the time it took
    for the hands
    to run themselves
    around the clock,
    since yesterday.

  357. lidywilks says:

    Since When Did the Good Times End?

    There once was a girl named Dee Dee
    who loved spirits and flying free.
    Working nine to five
    in an office hive,
    she wails, “how did this befall me?!”

  358. 4/4
    ‘since they came to live with us’
    Here’s my take on the prompt -again – a haiga. The link is here:http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/poem-a-day-april-4/
    Here’s the poem:

    a new song-
    a grandson trills and babbles
    at dawn

    • 4/4
      ‘since they came to live with us’
      Here’s my take on the prompt -again – a haiga. The link is here:http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/2014/04/04/poem-a-day-april-4/
      Here’s the poem:

      new song-
      a grandson trills and babbles
      at dawn

    • Al-Logaha Hand says:

      Since I was Born

      Since I was born
      I remained barely alive
      at times decomposing ideas
      that fell from my body of words
      I have felt the vile trance of illness
      the seperation of my limbs
      one of my whims is that I have traveled across the vast seas
      fought dis-ease and conquered Fear
      In this year, 41 years have passed since I last seen the inside of my mother’s womb
      yet there is still room for improvement
      a ways to go to see the calling of my soul
      on a roll I write these lines to remind that a life less lived is not worth anything at all
      so I am at once tall
      taller than the mountains which seperate me from my family
      and still small enough to know I no nothing but the winds that carry me

  359. Mr. Take The Lead says:

    Since I met Poetry
    Daniel R. Simmons
    Poetry for me is like soothing medicine that heals the heart.
    Its creation is putting colorful words together, for a masterful painting
    You put a splash of passion there, a little pain there, joy and genius all wrapped together
    To form not words that rhyme but a masterpiece of art that displays the innermost passions of you that runs deeper than your very soul.
    Yes, poetry is such a beautiful art that starts out as this wonderful orchestra of song in your head that you just can’t get out, so you write it down.
    As your words become notes of sweet melodies that come alive and dance and sing across the page.
    Yes, poetry is our words coming to life, which shines in our world filled with hunger, hatred, war and strife.
    Yet poetry sticks out like a knife and lets us forget for just one moment about our pain as it sends us worlds away.
    Just for one moment we forget about hate, about poverty and distress as the words of poetry puts these things to rest.
    For one moment the world comes together as one, as we appreciate the common beauty of this art.
    We cry together, laugh together, feel joy together and excitement- as we journey on the mystical ride the poet sends us on.
    Poetry is a universal language that is heard from the heart.
    It connects to every bit of passion in your soul and ignite the senses of your imaginations and love that you never knew you had.
    Poetry is my heartbeat that with each pump of my heart beats out the passion of my words.
    Each sweat that drops from me, waters the beautiful garden of flowers of my words that will blossom long after I’m gone.
    Poetry keeps my heart excited and alive, but without it, I’ll wither up and die inside like an untended garden.
    If I don’t get it out I become frustrated as my heart, soul and imagination become so full that it hurts and erupts.
    So I bleed out the blood of my words-letting every bit of passion, tears, joy, pain and triumph that rest in me trickle down the page as my very heart bleeds out.
    Poetry isn’t Microsoft but I like to call it Word Art.
    With the paintbrush of my pen
    I paint
    Through the laughter
    Through The tears
    and lows
    with the colors of my soul’s cries

  360. cindikenn says:

    Since Copper Eyebrows Burned

    I used to wear
    forehead hair
    like other stylish girls
    out there.

    Moved to desert’s
    scorching sun.
    Since, copper eyebrows burned
    to none.

    Now I gotta
    paint ‘em in.
    I use black whiskers from
    my chin.

  361. Emma says:

    Since the scar

    Since age seven,
    A great, pale, crooked mark
    Drags skin taut
    As it moves down my ruined shoulder
    Towards my heart.
    Its a fair price –
    The nightmare is over,
    No more monsters wait
    beneath my bed.

  362. laurie kolp says:

    Since I Found It, I Might As Well

    Buried in the sand, a new pack
    of gum- green gum to be exact,
    Extra spearmint like you used to chew.

    It replaced the pack
    of cigarettes you smoked each day
    before your lung collapsed
    like a sand castle marred with tar
    from an oil spill.

    The chewing gum a minty wave
    attacking taste buds, opening
    sinuses, unlike the first puff
    that made you high
    the first time you puffed
    before one puff wasn’t enough.

    As I walk by, I think about
    the way you fell asleep, gum in mouth
    and then woke up with sticky wads
    of green on your white pillow case.

    Still, you wanted another piece, even
    in the end when bed-ridden, your right arm
    the only thing left to move. You said
    it was all you had to do, chew gum while
    lying there all day long, dying.

    I brush the sand off the cellophane, pull
    gold thread around the top like one
    would do with a brand new pack
    of Marlboro Menthols, only
    it’s Extra spearmint chewing gum.
    Thank God it’s sugar-free.

  363. priyajane says:

    Since My Muse Lost His Voice

    Some thoughts stay veiled
    under the lacy threads of neurons
    hidden in the undulations
    of the rising moon
    But I can still see them
    suspended in a crimped zephyr
    playing with shadows
    I feel their warmth
    in the melting rays of sun
    and hear their tune
    in the crashing waves,
    and I touch their damp
    in the beating rain-

  364. Lady S Poetic Thickness says:

    Since the Children Grew Up

    Since the children grew up
    Home is solitary confinement
    Reminding her of days past

    Their bedrooms are her memory books
    Displaying trophies, certificates, and awards
    Comforting her through lonely moments

    Her days are not spent driving from ballet to soccer
    Dinner is not an argument about eating your vegetables
    Bedtime comes and goes without a hitch

    The telephone rings only for her
    Vacations do not include Disney World
    Laundry is done once a week instead of daily

    The hallway layered with photographs is her daily reminder
    She is a mother of two daughters and a son
    A grandmother of three grandsons and a granddaughter

    The children moved far away from home
    Seldom do they call
    Rarely do they visit

    What is her purpose?
    No one needs her anymore
    She cries herself to sleep nearly every night
    Since the children grew up
    Home is solitary confinement
    Reminding her of days past

    ©Sheila Moseley
    Lady S-Poetic Thickness

  365. candy says:

    Since the Cat Died
    I haven’t gone to work with furry pants –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t had to scoop a litter box –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t had to replace shredded curtains –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t opened a stinky can of tuna –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t been greeted at the door –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t heard a purr or meow –
    since the cat died.
    I haven’t had a warm ball of fur sleeping on my lap –
    since the cat died.
    I’ve been alone –
    since the cat died.

  366. poetbeta154 says:

    Since the last time I died

    Theres been two presidents both suspect
    In different ways, theres been 14 televised disasters
    In which the lower classes were provoked by actors
    To give all they could. Though, whou paid the actors.
    BP hasn’t paid a penny of taxes, though they pay them-
    selves to clean up their mess the same way the bank
    Pays itself yo cash welfare checks. Theres been millions
    Of Americans delivered to prison by hundreds of judges
    Who became prostitutes. I’ve worked four jobs which,
    Were sold to countries where no one knows my name.
    Television shows have gone from 45 minute to 39 in order
    To sell us more crap we cannot afford, to tell us fat is wrong
    Because theres a pill to treat anything though there weren’t
    Any cures because theres no money in it. Money has gotten
    More colorful than those that hoard it but at least you can
    Buy a small piece of congress if you’re part of a PAC, but man,
    This is the worst videogame ever it only has two paths,
    Both look exactly the same as the previous casino.
    That’s the point.

  367. miaokuancha says:

    April 4, 2014

    Prompt: Since

    Since Cincinnati
    Since Sin City
    Since synapses
    Since ever and whether
    and never and when.

    ~ miaokuancha

  368. Pengame30 says:

    “Since I’m Invisible”

    Unheard and unseen, I scream and your hear nothing.
    I jump around, arms flailing and lungs failing,
    but your minds eye is blind.
    You gulp down a tonic and go digging through your wallet
    Offer your friend a drink, but what about me?
    Can I sip on some vodka too please
    The sheets soak in plasma from freshly slit wrists
    and you snuggle up beside my cold corpse as nothing is amiss

    Written By: Sean Drew

  369. Misky says:

    Since When Is History An Ache

    Too soon the blossoms fall
    from this magnolia. Its days
    are few, bejewelled. A handful
    gathered for scent in linens,

    stretching history a day
    or so more as fragrant lilts
    rather than leaf strewn shade.
    My father bought me this tree.

    He died 7-years ago, and this
    tree will surely outlive me.
    It has history. It changes year
    on year. It grows broader,

    bolder, taller, a limb fails, falls,
    another twists in stormy wind.
    But there’s no such history
    in me, none that I can see,

    except for this oldness sitting
    in my bones — an unwelcome
    and miserable guest it is. But,
    since when is history an ache…

    (c) Misky 2014

  370. lily black says:

    14 years
    Since I’ve loved someone
    14 years
    Since you ate all the food every day
    14 years
    Since I’ve felt trust
    14 years
    Since you stole childhood from my children
    14 years
    Since I’ve worried what was waiting at home
    14 years
    Since you broke all my car windows with my son’s new used bike
    14 years
    Since I’ve been all alone
    14 years
    Since you tried to kill me
    14 years
    Since I’ve been held close
    14 years
    Since I’ve loved someone
    14 years
    Since…and I’ve felt safe!

  371. kingac says:

    Since I Keep This All Inside

    fingers endlessly type,
    and I feel like I’m going on a perpetual
    full of nonsense and useless
    things – so much so I edit;
    edit again.
    delete delete delete
    start over again – nothing seems right

    too personal, can’t let people in
    create a subterfuge; cut
    things succinctly –
    edit down and inject
    a sense of verbosity
    to get the desired impact.

    continue to edit-
    compress; compact
    then stare at the screen and fill
    with self doubt – look again
    no comments added still

    maybe the message went too far
    maybe the words were too large
    maybe no one cared
    or perhaps
    I used too much alliteration, or things were too freeform
    I will never be a sestina wizard
    and haiku won’t do the Housewives of Bravo justice

    maybe I’m just invisible, or there are too many to read
    but the thing is my insecurity
    nags – pulls – turns into a raging demon
    with long curving horns
    scraping the Earth, dredging dirt and brimstone
    crawling back inside of me –

    “Not quite good enough.”
    “Almost there.”
    “This is great, just there was something else better.”

    Just cut, paste and post.

    -John Pupo