Lines

This was written for One Single Impression Prompt #38, Courage. It is not so much a poem, but a personal statement, written as a reaction to some things I’ve encountered at work. You don’t have to agree, but all I ask is that you read….and think.

-Nicole

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I know that there are lines, and they cut through me. I know that there are armies, and they march across my heart. I know that there are loud cacophonies of protests and do-right demands and endless rah-rah-rah cheerleading to rouse up fear and loathing of imagined or created enemies – and I find myself responding with silence. And I am repulsed at my own desire to hide in the darkness of silent assent.
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Brittle

This piece, which uses chained hay(na)ku inside, was written for Read Write Poem Prompt # 52: Face Your Fears and Do It With Oomph!

This poem, in essence, is “to be continued”, as I was very recently diagnosed with type II diabetes. It runs in my family. A very prominent member of my family died of complications one month short of her fiftieth birthday because she did not follow doctor’s orders, did not take her insulin, did not watch her sugar intake. When she died in October 2000, she had already had one heart attack, one or two toes amputated, and had been completely blind for five years prior to her death.

When I was diagnosed in September of this year, the first thing I thought of was how she died, and this spectre has been hanging over my head since my diagnosis. How am I facing the fear of going out like she did? Taking control of my blood sugar levels…and writing this poem, which is more or less a transcript of my mind when I began to catalog and reckon with my greatest fear to date. It’s a little different than anything I’ve tried before, so gentle reader, please bear with me as I take you along for the ride.

-Nicole

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daylight
has faded
only night remains
a banshee’s song
in my
ears
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September

This was written for Read Write Poem Prompt #39: Writing for Months, Writing for Mouths. This was inspired by this speech, “Come September” given by activist and writer Arundhati Roy in 2002.

-Nicole
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crimson stains
on white petals
of fist-wide flowers
open white palms to the sky
broad, smiling, innocent
unaware that they are stained
unaware that blood has rained
upon their faces
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Forgotten Conversations

I had been thinking about this piece since Monday. This title was turning over and over again in my brain; I ended up writing it for Three Word Wednesday, since this week’s words, “million”, “time”, and “unnoticed”, lent themselves well to my churning thoughts. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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A million voices have weaved themselves together. They lie as chaotic tapestry, matted hair, within the recesses of my brain. I can no longer distinguish who said what and when, but unlike erased and empty chalkboards which bare nothing but black blankness, my mind holds on to ghost strand memories. I see the placeholders of words, but only as faint outlines containing invisible space.
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History

This sestina was written for this week’s Three Word Wednesday prompt: to use the words “narrow”, “history”, and “spent”. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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History may record the firecracker chaos
born of steel wills clashing in these
Birmingham streets, the clashing of love
and hate, bigotry and tolerance, law
enforcers and law breakers. It may speak
of water hoses, dogs, nightsticks, angry
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Summers Juxtaposed

This was a sedoka written for Read Write Poem Prompt #35: “fun in the sun” (NOT!). Here is my take. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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released from the jaws
of school, time was now my own
to sculpt summer freedom with

twenty years later
loneliness wraps around me
in emptied, silent school halls

Written 7/11/08
&copy 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

Stumble It!

I’m Half Here

This was written for Three Word Wednesday; today’s three words were: inappropriate, order, and shortcut. This was also inspired by this post I read on Paisley’s blog, “My Rose”. Enjoy.

*There is a video of me reading this on YouTube!*

-Nicole

I’m half here. The half of me that is here functions robotically as an android on autopilot, following in exact order a set of preprogrammed instructions: get up, shower, dress, apply makeup, style her hair, eat breakfast, go to work, go home, cook dinner, and eat. At the end of this daily sequence, she falls into her soft bed, all the while hoping it will turn into a cotton soft cloud and she will awake the next morning in Heaven above instead of on Earth below. I read her programming and try to pen poetry from gems hidden in its ordinary, everyday dirt.
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My Answer

This was written for this week’s Three Word Wednesday prompt. This week’s words are: indifferent, pour, and reason. I decided to do free verse this time. WARNING: This is also one of my more bitter and angry poems. If you are not in the mood to read, I suggest you come back another day. If you’re not scared, read on.

-Nicole
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Reticence

This was written for the Matinee Muse prompt “Guardian” on Writer’s Island…and as a poetic reaction to “Stranger” and “To The Stranger”. Since I wrote the first two poems, I wondered how the mysterious big city import would respond to the speaker…and wrote this as his response in a hay(na)ku chain. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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division -
my heart
cleaved in two
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Angel

This poem was written off of this week’s Three Word Wednesday prompt – write a poem with the words “open”, “frequent”, and “someday”. Note: The poem is based off of events in the musical “Rent”. Angel and all other characters mentioned in the poem are from that musical and are the creations of Jonathan Larson (1960 -1996).

Thank you, Jonathan.

-Nicole
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I frequent the Life Support group.
I am there whenever those doors are open,
and the people there are open to
me,
you,
and anybody else who walks through those doors. Continue reading

“Hush” Featured as the Daily Poem on Poetry Friends

“Hush” was featured today as the Daily Poem on Poetry Friends. To read “Hush”, visit:

http://poetryfriends.blogspot.com/2008/06/poem-by-nicole-nicholson.html

-Nicole