Mr. Nice Guy

Mr. Nice Guy

She’s says he’s a “nice guy”

but his smile is too sweet.

Like saccharin. It leaves a bad taste.

He wears a nice suit

Says all the right things

How do you do?

Yes ma’am

Right away!

But when he thinks I’m not looking

I see something evil lurking

His gaze glosses over as we discuss the weather.

His eyes drift down my thigh…

He checks himself when I say his name

and the saccharin smile returns

plastered like a Las Vegas billboard

false advertising

My daughter bounces back

like a brightly-colored beach ball.

“I’m ready!” She announces.

And I know she isn’t.

Let’s Write!

For the past two days I’ve featured poems from my Creative Writing class inspired by Irene Latham’s Live Your Poem workshop. Today I’d like to invite you to participate in a Live Your Poem activity! It’s simple! Take a look at this image and tell me what word comes to mind.  Don’t say “phone,” but tell me what this image of a phone makes you think about. What do you associate this image with?What memory do you connect it to? What does it represent in your mind?

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Put your word (or words) in the comment box and over the next few days let’s see if we (or I) can put the words together to make a poem! I’ll post the finished product of our “collaborative” poem and you can tell me if we/I capture the essence of the image (yikes!) No pressure…

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Woman Enough

Well, Poetry month has passed now; I had wanted to post my students’ poetry while it was still APRIL! But I had to BEG to get this ONE! Nonetheless, it is a good one, by Darlyze Calixte, a talented young lady whose not even an English major (Chemistry, go figure)! Anyway, better late than never, right?

So, you may remember my earlier post in which poet, Irene Latham shared some lovely postcards with us and asked us to craft poems from the inspirational images. This is the image that inspired Darlyze to write “Woman Enough”

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He was a man who had just buried years of self loathing into the womb of a woman more handsome than he was.

Each inhale of the black gummy herb, burnt as an offering to the body to bribe it to forget what had led him there in the first place.

Each breath of it brings him no closer so he paints a new memory of her instead.

In his Art, her hair lovingly kisses her back, her  hips provide handles for grip, her bosom is a soft pillow for his head.

Cupid bow lips, porcelain skin unmarred by reality.

With every delicate stroke..hmm, every different stroke…a new “her” was created.

In his painting, she sat like a delicate and limp flower, waiting to be plucked but reality had painted the woman handsome. A cactus. Strong, sturdy, thorny.

And yet,

Just woman enough for him to bury his insecurities in.

Click here for more from my Creative Writing students. For more poetry check out CRACK! and if you like short fiction check out The Looking Glass. Check back soon as I plan to round up more creative works from my students and me!

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