Sky Collection Quote Prompt №23

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Photo by Finn Mund on Unsplash

“It is hard to tell which is worse: the wide diffusion of things that are not true, or the suppression of things that are true.” — Harriet Martineau (1802–1876), British social theorist

the bowls sit empty
awaiting anything to fill them
or perhaps they are the singing
type — either way, they are beautiful
and they are made for nourishment

share a tale then
while we dine
how truth was fought for
so fiercely and each side
was as blind as the other
a two-headed flashlight
in a pitch black cistern

truth prevails perhaps
because the soul knows
the body knows
one perishes by the secrets
hustled and sold and covered
for eventually blisters form
corrosion from the…


A Poem

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Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

Call up your favorite languages
Call up your mother tongue
Spill out your crafty treasure chests
Dust off your used to be hobbies
Pull down the attic ladder
Gather the scrapbooks, the yearbooks, the printed photographs
Your sewing machine
Restring your guitar
Clear your throat for the harmony
Gather the heirloom seeds
The fabrics and dyes
Your crochet and knitting needles
Your cross-stitch too
We are recruiting poets
The world needs you!

You will need to pack your paintbrushes
Your oils and acrylics and biggest canvas
Bring your spraypaints and biggest statements
Things are about to get messy

Bakers and chefs and college professors
Gamers and students
And tellers of fortunes
Witnesses of the world
Voices of your generation
Readers and authors
We are waiting for you
We have work to…


Poetry of defying physics

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Photo by Melissa Askew on Unsplash

my grandmother was right
when you’re dead, that’s it
she was ahead of her time
that was the understood version
of who we knew her to be
but maybe she did not want
to be remembered
her own perception of herself
could have defied the conservation
of energy as memory
lifted away
thoughts like sheets flapping
on the line

just to remember her words
I locked them in with wax,
a transfer of heat
and determination
and I was dead-set
on knowing death
on knowing nothing
on feeling nothing
on feeling dead

I laid on the carpet
willing away the library ceiling
bright bulbs challenging my theory
I had the power to resist being created
at all
I had the power to flatten myself
against the earth
no teacher calling time
could destroy what
was never here
at…


POETRY

Were they even in Babylon?

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“hanging gardens of babylon art — Empire State Bldg.” by*highlimitzz is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Though shrouded in mythology
I came to be surrounded
by a concrete garden

It’s quite simple
tiers of trees
to prove his love
or some say prove his power

I gazed all day
for horizons, searching
mountains beyond my reach
by alliance and allegiance
I could not return
home

And so instead,
pretending to be
a gardening queen,
I tended to my flora

A tour for every tier
for every beautiful thing
and I longed for life
beyond this city
that never was

Some say, there’s still
a scent on the breeze
plums and figs
perennial blossoms
from my king

Nebuchadnezzer
never was…


One-line poem

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Photo by Calum Lewis on Unsplash

choices determined
by the fullness of bellies
and having time to spare
to write about
the very idea of a feast
when too many
wait for food
that never comes

Samantha Lazar 2020

Thank you for the one-line poetry prompt: gratitude Sherry Kappel:

Thank you for reading. I am excited to announce I have at last released a poetry narrative collection out into the world: Reaching Marrakesh. You can find that here.


POM PROMPT №20

A poem

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Photo by Veronica Silva on Unsplash

what does it feel like
when obscurity melts
into the mainstream

does a person float
and for how long
until the river freezes
over again
and ages out

by another year
this climate warns
do not trust the ice

let it roll
let the unknown
slip by gone before
it’s seen

a leaf in the eddy
a twig in the undercut
caught and frayed
then released,
fish swim on by

perhaps it is more
gradual
a look in the mirror
and the hair is down
to a waist

does a person recognize
who’ve they become
either way?

Samantha Lazar 2020

This poem is a response to the prompt: Big Fish, Little Fish-

Thank you for reading. I am excited to announce I have at last released a poetry narrative collection out into the world: Reaching Marrakesh. You can find that here.


A political poem

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Photo by Sebastian Molina fotografía on Unsplash

we see you looking at us
looking at you,
toy breaker

we have all been to your
house that (one) time
that one birthday party
we went as a team —
every kid a guard
for the other

no one opened their
presents at the party
anymore

except you

which expectant, hopeful
child gave the best gift

you peeled the tape politely
at first, then greedily
clawed at the gifts
hiding a paper cut

you tossed each toy
into the pile
and sugared-up
refused to play
with any of them

until your guests all
left and your siblings
wanted a tiny glimpse
at your…


A perfectionist’s poem

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Photo by Sarah Kilian on Unsplash

dear editor gods
i forgive you
for dropping my
ice cream cone
my skinned knees
sticky with asphalt
auto-grease and
sugared dairy

i was a child
distracted and late
by way of pretty
colors and obstinance
and i know you
were trying to
educate me
again

Samantha Lazar 2020

Some of my friends will be getting the first printing of my new book, and I apologize for the errors that were not caught. Love, me


Progress over perfection

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Photo by the author

I just published a book.

Me.

The two biggest feelings I have right now:

  1. Excited: Giddy with the news. Giddy from the accomplishment. Giddy with the potential and the relief from the hard work and healing.
  2. Vulnerable: I am naked at school, naked on stage, an imposter, my own version of Narcissus. I just know there will be formatting issues in print — typos, font sizes, grammatical errors (gasp!)! Who would actually spend their hard fought-for dollars on my poetry (besides friends and family)? What if people love it? What if people hate it (and tell me so)? …

A poem

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Photo by Jamie Liu on Unsplash

what if gravity and the physical world
have no meaning elsewhere
the stars shine for us
burning out, moving on
as humans understand

what of the elements
could the universe also contain
other scientific principles
a complete new (to us) set of laws
neither physical nor chemical

we see things in relative size
a virus, a walrus, a moon
vision is limited
and so humanity
is bound by our feet
on the ground,
looking up.

Samantha Lazar 2020

Thank you J.D. Harms for the Saturday poetry prompt: “on the ground looking up”

About

Samantha Lazar

Poetry, fiction, and essays in celebration of being a Mom, Wife, Educator, Writer, & Lover of Life.

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