White Rabbit Nights

A little poem today.  After a God post and a queer post you all deserve a poem. I’ve not written much poetry in quite a while. Saying that, it was only a year ago that I realised there was a possibility that I might be able to write poems and that it didn’t matter that I couldn’t really deal with some laudable classic epic and felt that I didn’t understand poetry at all. I still feel that but I’ve worked out that doesn’t stop someone from writing and as a poet said on Desert Island Discs, “Most poetry criticism is crap” anyway.  April is National Poetry Writing Month.  I’m going for it, joining in the attempt to write a poem a day.  The official website for the month is here.

This is unedited – barring one word – from what was written in a writing workshop in what was officially five minutes.  Our official five minutes are never that short. We each wrote three pieces that morning, each based on rabbit and hare prompts.  (It was Burke’s day off.) This was my third. I’ll be posting the first. As for the second, that’s a bit of flash fiction and I’m under orders to submit it places, not just stick it here. I’ve been disobeying orders to submit work for the last year.  I guess, having got my spoken word open mic debut out of the way after delaying for eighteen months, I should start obeying and gathering rejection letters.

White Rabbit Nights

Dreamed of a white rabbit.
The next day she left me.
Apologetically.
Her love turned to frozen indifference.

Dreamed of a white rabbit.
It beckoned me to follow its lead
As it jumped from canyon cliff.
I stayed, unwilling to chase liars.
Watched as ravens soared hot air words
And the river below washed the land.

Dreamed of a white rabbit.
The next day she returned,
Only to deliver divorce papers,
Discuss custody of books I’d paid for.

Dreamed of a white rabbit.
I fought her, claimed ownership of poetry
But ceded my treasured volume
Of a thousand dream meanings.

Crossed out my name,
Erased her from my life.

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