You glide by casually
down the ‘Glades while
our noisy asses throw waves
and ripples in your territory
but still you pay us no mind.
And why would you? We’re chumps
in comparison to your prehistoric
perfected design. Blending with
brackish waters, barely un ojito
to be seen, a trail of bubbles
telling us you just passed and
let us go. We’ll see one of your
brothers later I’m sure. For now
you keep gliding the ‘Glades
never minding our waves.
Originally posted here.
The road so far
is the same that leads
us back. Back to where you
and I come from, where
your ancestors dwelled.
It’s quiet here
and the people don’t care
that we’re here. They figure
we’re just more tourists
come to see the oddity
that is small town life where
everyone knows each other.
The currency flows back
and forth as everyone buys
local and those shopkeepers
live there, buying from one
another. No such thing as credit
here. We sit in peace after our meal
feeling at home. We have to leave
Originally posted here.
I wrote this piece when I traveled to Ireland for the first time last year. Been missing it like crazy. I need to go back! It’s been a busy year, and a busy month, but I wanted to make at least one contribution to National Poetry Month.
One part whiskey, two parts hot brew poured slowly
into that fancy ass glass, and topped off with a frothy
cream. Liquor at 9 a.m. is when I knew I’d embraced
the Emerald Isle.
The first sip was bracing, like cold fire spreading
from my throat down my chest into my belly
and suddenly 41 degrees Fahrenheit wasn’t freezing
for this Florida Girl.
The second gulp went down smooth, and the third
I knocked back like a pro. Before the final chug, my
new friends and I raised the last of the rich, brown
concoction, clinking glass. To our newfound Irish health.
Thank you Burning House Press for publishing my pieces! Click the link below to see them!!
What do you think the B stands for? “I’m not one of these people, buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, there are some gay people that won’t like you comparing being bi to the same as being gay.” Good observation. However, I specifically said non-heterosexual in my poem, or did that bewilder you? Besides, I thought it was LBGT? What […]
via Two poems by Meagan Kimberly — BURNING HOUSE PRESS
Happy Fathers’ Day to all the dads out there! Here’s a poem dedicated to my father that I had the honor of getting published in Page & Spine Magazine. Follow the link to read.
Here’s my poem from Lady Lit Magazine published last month. A little late but that’s the life these days. Click the pic to follow the link.
*Screenshot from Lady Lit Magazine website.