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sleepy
Exhausted. Green. Exhausted. Stressed.
9 Posts • 17 Followers • 30 Following
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sleepy

Anarchy

Apparently, even though I

ate at least two

apples everyday—

and occasinally

an orange—I was

appalled to see i had an

appointment today

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sleepy

2020

choose they said to me

for now you can do anything

and nothing at all

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sleepy

i no

i know that i don’t know yet,

yet i don’t know that i know that?

That that i don’t yet know; i know.

i don’t know

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sleepy

teenagers

It just seems so crazy to me,

that people look in the mirror and like what they see.

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sleepy

We

We the universe,

condensed into strands

and stalks of fragile grass.

We cover the globe, we color the globe.

Some grown in sunlight, on mountains and hills;

others in valleys and marshes, forests and cities.

We get picked. we get cut.

We’re sometimes tread on, or sickly yellow.

We still bend in tandem with the wind.

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sleepy

Fireworks

America showed its hand by beginning;

why else use gunshots to celebrate winning?

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sleepy

Stretch

Not all things are logical, I have found.

So despite the concavity of my middle;

I find that my thighs are angrily riddled

with river-like indents that race all around.

Challenge
Write 555
Writers write to write, to create, to speak, to listen, to imagine, to be heard, to be remembered, to be. Write whatever astounds you, brings joy to your day, speaks of who you are, or fascinates. There is really no limitation beyond word count restrictions. 555 word limit for your poetry, flash fiction, creative non-fiction, or memoirs.
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sleepy in Flash Fiction

love

My mother’s gaze weighs heavy on my sullen heart, today more than most.

She stares with vacant admiration, her support unyielding and warm.

It’s a ghost that haunts me to this day, her passion restrained by the grave.

Challenge
Imagist/Minimalist poetry awakens our senses.
I invite you to write a short poem, using as few words as possible to describe a smell, a sound, or a taste. William Carlos Williams’ Red Wheelbarrow is a good example.
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sleepy in Micropoetry

Lilting Laughter

Melodic in the warm summer breeze,

weaving swiftly between bubbles and kites.

Popsicles, dripping as they unfreeze,

falling off her tongue into the golden light.