This poem is in response to the blank verse challenge laid down by the prolific and adept sarahjaneprosetry (read her poem here).


with every pull of this cigarette

and every sip of this coffee, I

come back to the land of the living; the

dishevelment falls away like old skin,

unwanted; my mind becomes solid, no

more rattling like time-worn maracas.


I awoke in a bed not my own, in

a house not my own, but that of my ink

mate’s new fling, and on her back porch I sit,

the sun slowly climbing behind me—just

as I knew it would, dappling a forest

of gums in the rays of a newfound day.


and the day is young and nature’s sounds wash

over me and I sit in wonderment,

as if hearing it all for the first time;

white noise enriched with soothing hues and tones,

unexpectedly beautiful and soft,

I’m cloaked in an ethereal cocoon.


it feels like some new beginning but new

beginnings are precious and rare and, if

I am deserving of such a thing, I

beg of it to evince itself anew,

show me the light! the possibilities!

let me walk that desirous path once more.