Fights started once more,/
like they had decades before./
This time they worked out.
Tag Archives: CyranoWriter
My Daughter’s Daring Gift: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet
My darling, dying daughter is daring.
Willing to explore her feelings,
able to express her caring
through the pain and suffering she’s revealing.
Though she fears loathing and ridicule,
she loves unseen others more.
By exposing her personal fire’s fuel,
she’s guiding sufferers to a hopeful shore.
Today someone who she’s never met
was lead to read her writings.
As my daughter exposed experiences we’d rather forget
she gave another hope to keep on fighting.
Sometimes a greater love for another just means
we don’t have to die; we just have to be seen.
Written after my daughter wrote in her blog Milla the Night Baker
and someone responded at 5:06 a.m. on October 8th, 2012 saying how her writing was helping.
Tired Of Reading: Romantic Blogging Rhyming Haiku Lament
When you read how my/
heart bleeds for you, don’t you want/
to scream: “Just shut up!” ?
I Can’t Suffer In Silence: Romantic Blogging Haiku Lament
Yenta made the choice
to “Suffer in silence”. I /
wish my fingers let me.
Wanting to Ask But Not: Romantic Blogging Improv Haiku Lament
I want to ask her:/
“What’s going on?” but I made/
the pained choice not to.
More Than 24: Romantic Blogging Haiku Lament
It’s now been more than/
24. I’m proud of my/
control despite pain.
Ain’t It Good To? No.: Romantic Blogging Haiku Lament
Ain’t it good to know/
you’ve got a friend? No. Not when/
you think you might not.
OR
… No. Not when/
silence says you don’t.
Cold Flagstaff: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku Lament.
Crushed ice. James Taylor./
Jack and Diane. Cruel mem’ries/
in a cold Flagstaff.
Arguing With God (Part 2): Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
“Oh, no! That’s too young!”/
she said. “So, you will argue/
with God’s own Prophet?”
Conversation with Mom’s friend after President Monson of the LDS Church said male missionaries could go on missions at 18 years old, and women at 19 years old.
No Poetic Expression: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
I write. A lot. I was trying to write a long poem to read as a toast to my oldest son and his new bride (aka my newest daughter!). Nothing came to mind. Finally, I realized this:
No poetry can/
express how I feel gaining/
a daughter like you.
Or (because I realized to applied to each of my children):
No poetry can express
the joy felt having children
such as you all are.