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Puddle of Poetry

Posted by Merri Hiatt on April 30, 2012 at 7:20 PM Comments comments (0)



I've put together a little book of poetry and it's available now!

Poetry is my first love. Well, words are my first love, so I guess it stands to reason that using them in any format would make my spirit soar. There's something special about poetry, though. Magical. Mysterious. How a line can sink into your marrow and burrow its way snugly into the fabric of who you are. Love that!


Puddle of Poetry: Swinging on the pendulum from sassiness to sensitivity to seriousness, Merri Hiatt shares sixty-two poems about love, compansionship, being a cancer surivor and both the human and spiritual experience.

Dip your toe in the Puddle of Poetry and experience life and all its glorious emotions. Sometimes we all need to get a bit wet.

A few poem titles:

New Baby Smell
Daffodil Whispers
In This Moment
Red Suspenders
Addicted
Unforgiving Soil
Caged Flowers
In the Shallows
Who God Is
Cancer's Hot Breath

Available in e-book format now at Amazon and Smashwords and in paperback format at Createspace (coming soon to Amazon). Clicking on a link will open a new browser.

 

 
ADDICTED

 

 

It roots itself deeply in your soul.

 

Plays endlessly with your every emotion.

 

Stings your senses with its poison.

 

It easily insinuates itself into being your

 

best friend and your worst enemy --

 

all rolled into one huge ball of

 

abhorrent discontent.

 

You play it cool.

 

Act as if the danger isn't near.

 

Can't touch you.

 

Won't control you.

 

Doesn't own you.

 

And then one day you realize

 

the grip is so tight

 

you can't even dream of escape.

 

Guess who you've become?

 

A three-syllabled

 

shell of your former self.

 

Addicted.

 

 

 


 
CAGED FLOWERS

 

 

Home Depot builds cages

 

to keep its flowers and plants

 

from escaping.

 

Tall.

 

Black.

 

Wiry

 

cages.

 

I wonder if an escaping rose bush

 

is a common problem?

 

It's like the doors

 

in public bathrooms

 

with their metal locks

 

and thick doors.

 

Is there a big problem

 

with people trying to ram the doors

 

and watch people pee?

 

The leaves on the tree next to my staircase

 

were amazing today.

 

Fresh.

 

Vibrant.

 

Kelly green.

 

They changed overnight.

 

I swear they weren't like that yesterday.

 

I would help them,

 

the plants and flowers

 

housed within

 

those

 

tall

 

black

 

wiry

 

cages

 

at Home Depot,

 

if they asked me to.

 

 

 


 
CANCER'S HOT BREATH

 

 

Even now I can feel the hot sting of death

 

from the dragon’s fiery throat

 

against my neck.

 

Blazing a trail down my spine.

 

The spittle sizzles on my flesh

 

as the cells inside my body seize

 

with an infestation of disease.

 

 

You see me as a whole, complete person.

 

Your eyes deceive you.

 

I am the walking wounded.

 

A woman who swims

 

inside a swirling, frenetic spiral

 

intent on consuming her.

 

 

The hairs on the back of my neck

 

stand on end.

 

Waiting.

 

Waiting.

 

Waiting for the teeth of the beast

 

to pierce my fleshy tissue.

 

 

How long can I run?

 

How long can I endure the hunt?

 

The game I play

 

has become far too real,

 

and yet something stirs inside me

 

and will not let me succumb.

 

It bids me onward.

 

Gives my feet wings.

 

Lets my spirit sing with hope

 

that the sticky breath will be abated

 

and I shall be victorious.

 

 

 


 
COMPANION OF MY SOUL

 

 

i see you

 

through the warm eyes of love --

 

the thinning hair

 

the failing vision

 

the creaking body

 

fade from view

 

 

what do i see when i look at you --

 

a gentle heart

 

warm, soft hands

 

wonderful crinkly laugh lines

 

 

the best part --

 

walking beside you

 

sharing the silence

 

traveling the journey

 

with the companion of my soul

 

 

 


 
DAFFODIL WHISPERS

 

 

Daffodils wave their sunny heads

 

as passersby

 

snap photographs.

 

 

The sea of brilliant yellow blooms

 

whispers to their tender souls:

 

pause for a moment,

 

breathe in

 

the beauty that surrounds you,

 

remember every second is a gift,

 

come dance with me

 

in the warm breeze --

 

it will be time well spent.



 

Spring is in the air

Posted by Merri Hiatt on March 15, 2012 at 6:15 AM Comments comments (0)

Can you feel it? Spring seems to be bounding forward and bringing hope with it.

I realize we have a way to go before spring actually arrives, but it's so close now. Reminded me of a poem I wrote a few  years back.


Happy New Year Inspirational Poetry

Posted by Merri Hiatt on January 1, 2012 at 5:50 PM Comments comments (0)



Happy New Year! I wish you a 2012 filled with love, joy and just enough adventure to make things interesting.

I've posted four poems above that I have written. Many folks are setting forth this new year with aspirations of making life changes. I have a few of my own I'm working on! I wish you all good luck with your endeavors.

Blessings to you and yours!
Merri

All Hallow's Eve - poem

Posted by Merri Hiatt on October 30, 2011 at 11:40 PM Comments comments (2)

Ghosties and ghoulies go bumping in the night

Sounds making you jumpy with nerves, what a fright

A knock on the door gives you cause for alarm

Just trick-or-treaters, they don’t mean any harm

Jack o’ lanterns gleam in a black midnight sky

Hey, what was that? Was it a witch flying by?

Zombies awaken, rising up from the dead

A path made of body parts lay in their stead

The veil between living and dying, you see

Is as close as can be on All Hallow’s Eve


By Merri Hiatt

 


cancer's hot breath - poem

Posted by Merri Hiatt on October 27, 2011 at 10:35 PM Comments comments (2)

cancer's hot breath by Merri Hiatt

 


even now

i can feel the hot sting of death

from the dragon’s fiery throat

against my neck

blazing a trail

down my spine


the spittle sizzles

on my flesh

as the cells

inside my body

seize

with an infestation

of disease

 


you see me

as a whole, complete person


your eyes deceive you


i am the walking wounded


a woman

who swims

inside a swirling, frenetic spiral

intent on consuming her

 


the hairs

on the back of my neck

stand on end


waiting

waiting

waiting


for the teeth

of the beast

to pierce my fleshy tissue

 


how long can I run

how long can I endure

the hunt


the game

i play

has become far too real


and yet something stirs

inside me

and will not let me succumb


it bids me onward

gives my feet wings

lets my spirit sing with hope

that the sticky breath

will be abated

and I shall be

victorious

 



Fall -- a poem

Posted by Merri Hiatt on October 18, 2011 at 10:40 PM Comments comments (0)


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