April is National Poetry Month

Hemingway’s Beloved (Friday’s Free for All)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Torn [first] from the pages of Horror Writer’s Association Poetry Volume 1

DID YOU SHAKE HIS HAND –?
the hand of a man’s man?


Did you see how his eyes searched the space around him as the world grew smaller?


Did you learn the secrets of Africa or discuss his tomes over drinks?


Of course not.


You could not for we were mere children –
our wedding day marking the twenty second anniversary of his exodus… his rise to immortality.


He won the Nobel Prize for Literature the year you were born – did you know that?


I was but two months in the womb when he placed the beloved twelve-gauge inside his mouth and obliterated the ciphering pheasants once and for all.


Did you see how he caressed her?


How her cold, soft metal against his finger was as pacifying as the perfect daiquiri… how she (his beloved) alas cured him of the demons.


In a flash she rooted them loose one by one
from their hiding place – a place liquor nor currents could mole; a cavern so deep no joule or watt could grasp.


Ahh, but she did.


She exorcized them, set them to flight riding on soft grey tissue laden with hemochromatosis and fragments of bone.


Christ might have offered the fiends a swine but not her or better yet not him…


A sacrifice for the Bay of Pigs?


It was all such folly—such unholy madness for a simple man and a literary saint.


*Hemingway’s Beloved was republished in Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within)

Women’s Liberation

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Well we are in the final hours of Women’s History Month or Herstory as it’s been announced daily for the last 31 days.

Every year, March is designated Women’s History Month by presidential proclamation. The month is set aside to honor women’s contributions in American history.

I guess that’s a good thing. Either way, here’s my annual contribution in all her glory.

The poem below was inspired by the sage advice I received years ago from an elderly lady who truly fought to make a difference in the role (and treatment) of women in society. I feel she made a historical impact by influencing the small groups around her. She certainly left an impression with me.

I won’t name her because her M.O was to act subtly and not bring attention to herself. Surprisingly she got a lot accomplished with her (ur-um) antics. RIP A

Women’s Liberation

We did not burn our bras but wore them proudly; Holding–supporting–glorifying the mammary glands that would feed the next generation;

For the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. 

We did not give animated voices to our vaginas for the world to hear but let them speak in secret whispers that moved mountains. 

We did not make a spectacle in the streets to prove our equality For we knew in our hearts [already] that we were superior. 

The above poem is from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Happy Friday y’all & remember tomorrow starts National Poetry Month.

Little Man (In Memoriam)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Sending love and gratitude on this Memorial Day. I pray you feel it in the wind.


It’s time to go to bed little man

Cover up your head little man

I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn.

Say your prayers and close your eyes,

I’ve locked the monsters all outside,

She’d sang those words to him since he was born.

He grew to be a brave young lad

And followed after his ole dad

Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn.

They brought him home in silk lined wood,

And all around him soldiers stood,

While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn.

It’s time to go ahead little man,

I know that you weren’t scared little man,

My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn.

I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes, 

I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside… She sang into a folded flag of thorns.

Little Man was taken from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

The tears of mother’s could create a flood if they all cried at once.

In the Storm (April is National Poetry Month)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
The Storm

(#NPM )

In the Storm

I reach for you…

With every crack of thunder 

I hear you laugh…

Your smile is every bolt of lightning.

The drops of rain, you touching me,

with unsalted tears…

No more pain; no more regret.

I raise my arms, 

as a child beckoning to be held

and it pours.

My grief is washed away by

stinging pellets of a spring rain

Leaving behind a clean slate

with only memories of the most mundane,

most cherished moments of my life.

Available at your favorite retailer.

Credits:

I created the cover from a photograph I had taken.

The heading image (The Storm) was created from a compilation of images I found at Pixabay. (Thank you Pixabay contributors).

The poem, In the Storm was taken from this twisted book of poems. And… guess what?

For a limited time my partnering experiment with Smashwords lets the reader decide what they will pay. Yep! You decide. Check it out.

And don’t forget to follow my podcast

Just keeping it real. 😘

Another Spring (Another #NPM )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
Audio podcast available

Another Spring

You were hiding,

waiting there beneath the frost

so much more patient than I.

My soul beckoned from a wintry slumber

Fretful and anxious

Weary and depressed

fearful you had abandoned me and then

as promised,

you appeared.

Breathing life into the naked limbs; into the bare breasts of Mother Nature

until Summer’s heat met autumn’s leaves
and reminded us that change is inevitable.

Now…

too soon,

you will be nothing more than a bright spot

Getting Me Back is available at your favorite retailer.

Write on!

As If #NPM

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

As If

As if your shoulder brushing against my breast

in a crowded room meant anything to me…

As if your smile would thaw my frosty heart…

As if your constant assurance could overcome my cynicism…

As if the invisible boulevard would never rise up and beckon.

The street lamp glows in the bleached mist only three floors below us.

I blow streams of smoke into the black night and hum to the drone of the unseen road.

Be steel my bleating heart!

Be quiet! Be silent, hard steel.

As if wearing your tee-shirt made us lovers.

You can listen here.

From Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

As If #NPM

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

As If

As if your shoulder

brushing against my breast

in a crowded room

meant anything to me…

As if your smile

would thaw my frosty heart…

As if your constant assurance

could overcome my cynicism…

As if the invisible boulevard

would never rise up and beckon.

The street lamp

glows in the bleached mist

only three floors below us.

I blow streams of smoke

into the black night and hum

to the drone of the unseen road.

Be steel my bleating heart!

Be quiet! Be silent, hard steel.

As if wearing your tee-shirt made us lovers.

From Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Fearless ( Pondering & #NPM )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I thought a lot about yesterday’s post; about the disciples and about believing and courage. And I remembered a poem written decades ago.

I do not claim to be bold and my beliefs have (more than once) been shaken.

I am not holy, hell I am not even considered a good Christian by many standards. I do not attend “church” nor belong to any denomination. I try to do as I should but y’all I sin every day. Every day! But don’t worry, me and The Lord have a relationship. We’re good. 👌🏼

I think I have always aspired to be a soldier, a Christian soldier and the poem written decades ago made me remember that.

Remember April is National Poetry Month.

Poem from Getting me Back (The Voices Within)