by Te’Kia Miller

Yet another whirlwind has come and gone
along with my breath and patience thrust
to some far flung place in my mind
which cannot fathom these
tumultuous depths, days when
mad house chaos runs rampant

You are my solace
during the storm but even now
I welcome the graceful lull
you impart to me
a constant river of rhythms
coursing through me from ear to ear
sublime vibrations cascade into twilight oceans
and cushioned skies, drowning out
maddening reflections of lost agendas
and subpar circumstances

all today’s noise has been thoroughly cancelled.




New Blog Collections

Hey, hey! So the two new blog collections of poetry from April poetry a day challenge are finally up as of tonight. Meshed, Vol. 1 and Meshed, Vol. 2 can both be accessed by clicking the links and are also found under the Poetry Collections Blog Edition tab. Meshed, Vol. 2 is acting up as far as the formatting. I am going to try to correct that problem this week. I still hope you enjoy both collections though!

Be blessed. Peace.

What April Taught Me

As April was coming to an end (and now that it’s over) I thought about some of the things I learned during my participation in NaPo WritMO (National Poetry Writing Month for those not familiar).

One: Surprisingly easy. I had been away from poetry for a little bit with a few pieces making an appearance on the blog here and there. When I saw the first prompt and had taken careful consideration of it, the flow just opened up. Usually when I’m away from poetry due to other projects or taking a break from writing, the flow is a little slow at first. I was surprised that wasn’t the case right off bat.

Two: Just because there is a prompt doesn’t mean inspiration will strike. Each day I would try to read what that day’s prompt would be as early as I could. This allowed me to use most of the day to marinate on the prompt and consider how to approach it when I finally did have the time to sit and write. This was also good exercise for not necessarily writing on the spot, but pretty close to writing on a 24 hour deadline or less even.

Three: You may actually need the full 24 hour turn around. So piggybacking off the second, inspiration is a wonderful thing. It doesn’t always come when you will it but it always comes when you’re not looking for it. There were days when I’d read the prompt, get it in my head and then go on about my day. When I got to sitting down and writing a poem, I realized I needed more time to get the full gusto of what was meandering in the inspiration rivers. So there were times when I’d leave it until the next day.

Four: Time constraints. Having lots to do in your schedule puts a little bit of a bind on that day’s poem and so there would be no choice but to write it the next day. Having flexibility was key and also knowing limits. There were times when I wanted to write a long free verse but realized that it didn’t have to be long and it didn’t have to be free verse all the time. There are other forms of poetry that work just as well and are just as, if not more, effective. Flexibility my friend.

Five: Deadline deadly. Not to say there is a deadline for the poetry prompts. I’m using the term more in the sense that because a new prompt comes about every day that there is the sense of a deadline. As you read earlier I did operate outside of that constraint. BUT, to know that I could write a well written and meaningful piece within several hours time does boosts one’s confidence of having fast and furious writing when the need calls for it.

This post comes, of course, in hindsight. Even now I find myself thinking of what I learned about myself and writing habits that maybe I hadn’t seen before or hadn’t even been paying attention to. Lately I’ve been on other projects and goals, so poetry had kind of taken a little bit of a backseat until April rolled around. I’ll be returning to those projects in full force, but participating in Poetry Month has opened the floodgates a bit.

Be blessed. Peace.

Now What?

For the first time since I decided to take part in National Poetry Month I went through an entire month’s worth of poetry prompts!! Woohoo! For someone who normally misses the month entirely and has to catch up, this is a feat.

So now what?

Now that I have thirty fresh new poems, my plan is to compile them into a mini collection for the blog just like Bag of Knick Knacks. The PAD poems will be divided into two parts so there will be two blog collections of poetry. One part will consist of odd numbered PAD and the second part will be the even numbered. I hope to have the two collections up by the end of the week, but it will most likely be this weekend. Hopefully no later than that.

I am really excited about adding two new blog collections of poetry! My intent is to make the PAD poetry easily accessible by putting them in one place. Which reminds me that I still have stray poetry that needs to go under Poetic Reflections. That update will probably come much later. Until next post…

Be blessed. Peace.

Never Ending Love

Never Ending Love
By Te’Kia Miller

Whether close as kiss to kiss
Of far as the sun from the moon
There lives in me an acute awareness
Of your sublime presence, something
I sense even through space and distance

Your love in time worked to this addiction
A fix only your being can soothe
A spirit from which comes rivers of wisdom and blessing
Grace becomes you dearly beloved

So often I come to overflowing measure
Taken in the tiding currents of your soul
Deep as ocean waters are the ways you love
Showing their vastness thought for thought
Makes me wonder at you like I wonder at stars

Submerged in longing embrace
We consume desire
And engulf time
Lifting us to a higher paradise
Legendary among the stars
Where breathing is breathless awe

And there we lounge in leisure
To never stop beholding halo sunsets
And sipping conversation’s delights
In the never ending reaches of our love

Original. 2019.


PAD 30

Thrill Again

Thrill Again
By Te’Kia Miller

By some sleight of hand
The heart of Wonder was stolen
Star-luster eyes fell to jaded hope
And the kid within shrunk away
Trapped in a dank closet
Desperate for the thrill that
Soared through heights of awe
Free to run with the wind
In the beating rhythms only Fun dances to

By some sleight of hand
The heart of Wonder was stolen
Held captive by pragmatic chains
Dream and Ideal held each other’s hand in comfort
To mourn the tears of the kid within
That shrunk away to a dank closet
Waiting for the thrill again

By some sleight of hand indeed
The faith of a child slipped to hindsight
Succeeded by lackadaisical interest
And suddenly all is become mundane
Doubtful anything is more than the same
Doubtful any significance to the essence thereof
In the name that it had all been seen before
The sky is still blue as was yesterday
And life continues in its same vein

And though we conjure something new
To attract short-handed attention spans
With shiny, trendy, convenient, self-indulged illusions
Even these smoke and mirrors eventually fizzle out

While still there sits the kid at heart
Filled with all hope and desperate to feel again
The thrill of wonder in its simplest forms

Original. 2019.


PAD 29

After Scorn (Remix)

After Scorn (Remix)
By Te’Kia Miller

A new love has grown in the place
Where once burned earth scorched
With charred memories for a space
Now only faded shadows find solace
In the shady palm trees of a new love

For him she carries a torch
Their hearts etched therein
True she was unyielding at first sight
Yet somehow, he showed her the light
A fire that burned for her only
His heart he gave to her solely

How trust resurrected within her
She knew not but his hand was in it
Sure and certain for a future he saw
Gradually she gave into the desire
Such is the relationship of moth and fire

Together they embarked on this journey
Two twain became one and the same
Forever the lover of each other

Original. 2019.


PAD 28

North Bound

North Bound
By Te’Kia Miller

I am headed north bound
Where the frosty breath of air chills
From the bone marrow outward
Ice crystals clinging to the fringe of existence
Enforces their advance on fleshy substance

I am headed farther north
Where the night sky turns otherworldly
Lights swaying in a dance unknown
Burning awe into the eyes of wonder

And I headed farther north still
Swept in the phenomenon of fantastic allure
There remains a greater call
Than gravity can fathom
A call from a dream’s desire

I am headed that north bound
Where the stars fill the eyes of hope
And the moon guides the night
The desire of a dream still reaches

Grabbing the coattails of shooting beams
North bound where I am headed
To the endless reaches of a dream

Original. 2019.


PAD 27

Night Cruise

Night Cruise
By Te’Kia Miller

Again whisked away to this waiting chariot
The evening blesses this rendezvous
In brief coronation of twilight

Evening descends its cloak gently
And I am warmed by your coat
The eyes of the moon gleaming
In the tender breeze of your words

We cruise through sound
The dark ether rippling with music
In our comfortable silence
Punctuated by the marking blaze of kisses
Held on wrist and hand

Streetlamps blur with the stars
Until left behind in this hectic realm
Only the stars know our way
And sweetly we whisk away to the unknown
As shadows passing along
Silences of the road

Original. 2019.


PAD 26

Her Exile is Writing

Her Exile is Writing
By Te’Kia Miller

Curious eyes ponder the mystery of her solitude,
When she disjoins from shared interests and public eye
And instead volunteers herself as tribute
To something that captivates her desire more.
Her eyes see when time cracks,
A welcoming sensation to exiled life in a nook.
The world does not disturb beyond this gate.
Distractions no longer hold her gaze
As some unheard beckoning lures her.
And never a word leaving her lips
Yet still they leave her soul
To the ancient hands of some sacred tome,
And only music’s voice pours through
The crannies of a closed gate.
Only that of music’s voice
And the soft turning of ancient hands.

Original. 2019.


PAD 25