Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Hey, I'm back.

Hey, I'm back.
By Candace Shultz

In the blink of an eye
Or a life span of a fly
The world spins by
And I find that I
Am in September.

Birthdays have come and gone.
Our moving is finally done.
The summer was mostly fun,
Though I already miss the sun
As I sit in my home in England.

Surely I can do
A poem, a story, or two
Now that I have a few
Moments to spend with you:
My blog, my family, my friends.

So on this overcast day
And the many more to come my way,
I just want to say:
Hey.
I'm back.



Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Busy Busy Butterfly

Now that National Poetry Month is over, I've decided to take a break from writing for a little bit. My daughter's first birthday is coming up on May 30th, so this month I'll be concentrating on planning for her butterfly-themed party. We're also moving this summer, so we have lots of packing to do. However, if the mood strikes and my muse throws another party, I'll be sure to post my writings.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

My Journey Continues

My Journey Continues
By Candace Shultz

Imagine
that you
are eating your
favorite cookies and there's
only one left. Now imagine
that you've been running a marathon
and you've just crossed the finish line.
The dismay. The exhilaration! That's me right now.

Some days my feet dragged me down the hallway
into my bedroom and to my desk where I dilly-dallied
on the internet until an hour before bed. Then I'd stare
at the blank screen and the blinking cursor with a blank face
and blank mind until I made myself actually write something, anything. I'd listen
to the hum of my computer as I scrambled for a mix of words
that would fit a picture of my life into a frame. Not perfect. Just me.

Other days I'd hurry to my desk, words and phrases just fighting to be released,
to be heard. Whether pen and paper or keyboard and computer, my creativity craved
an outlet. Ideas and words overflowed my mind. My muse was throwing a
party and everyone was invited. I just had to weed out the
people I didn't like. I need more days like that: days
of inspiration, days of creativity, and days where I've rediscovered
my passion for the written word. My written words.

National Poetry Month has come to an end.
I ate the last cookie. I finished
the race. The best part? I
now have thirty new poems.
Whether good or bad,
it doesn't matter.
My journey
continues.

Monday, April 29, 2013

I am a Mother and I Love to Read

I had trouble coming up with ideas today, so I searched for poetry prompts and found the "I AM" prompt. I've actually done this prompt before (I can't remember if it was in high school or college), but I want to do it again because life changes so much through the years. Click on this link for reference to the "I AM" poetry prompt.


I am a Mother and I Love to Read
By Candace Shultz

I am a mother and I love to read.
I wonder what my life would be like if I were another person.
I hear the voices of strangers who know me.
I see tigers in my past, present, and future.
I want to be content in my own body.
I am a mother and I love to read.

I pretend to be a giant stuffed caterpillar giving kisses to my giggling baby.
I feel her arms around my neck and her sloppy kisses on my cheek.
I touch my husband's hands as he holds me in my sleep.
I worry every time my baby falls.
I cry when my husband has to leave on deployment.
I am a mother and I love to read.

I understand that no one is perfect.
I say that God is real.
I dream of becoming a published writer.
I try to clean the house, I really do.
I hope that I don't screw up my daughter.
I am a mother and I love to read.



Here is the poem I wrote years ago based on this same prompt (way before I was married).

“I Am”
By: Candace Davidson

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.
I am worried, yet carefree.
I wonder if my grandfather looks down on me from heaven, his eyes bright with encouragement.
I hear the soft whispering of delicate leaves as the wind tickles the trees.
I see a horse running through the trees towards freedom.
I want to run my fingers along the rough, ancient buildings of Italy and to sink my toes in the sandy beach.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.
I pretend that the world is beautiful without horrors and pain.
I feel that everyone has hope and can achieve their dreams.
I touch puffy clouds that disappear in my hand.
I worry about everything.
I cry when I lose a friend.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.
I understand that life is not fair.
I say that we should not give up anyway.
I dream that I am happy in my future.
I try to do the best that I can do.
I hope that my smile and kindness affects at least one person who will then give happiness to others.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.


Sunday, April 28, 2013

Meow Like a Cat, Cry Like a Baby

Meow Like a Cat, Cry Like a Baby
By Candace Shultz

Have you ever seen a baby act like a cat?
My baby Lilia behaves like that.
She "paws" at the window screen
Scratches at the door
Wiggles when you shake her treats
Crawls on the floor
She cries when she wants some food
Ignores you when you say her name
Stands up to reach her toys
See? They're just the same.
She'll play with a box or string
Instead of her own toy
And if you turn the vacuum on
She'll run from all the noise
Sometimes she'll play peek-a-boo
And she'll nibble on my hair
But if you have something to do
She'll make sure to be right there
It's just so funny to see the similarity
Between a cat and my cute little baby. 




Saturday, April 27, 2013

All in a Day's Work

All in a Day's Work
By Candace Shultz

There are so many things I need to do.
Here, I've listed just a few:
Clean the dishes, wash some clothes,
Trim the nails on my toes,
Scrub the bathroom, log receipts,
Clean my desk, wash the sheets,
Sweep and mop every floor,
Go to the grocery store,
Pay the bills, visit the library,
Then after dinner, I'll exercise maybe.
But instead of doing all my chores,
I'm improving my Angry Birds' scores.


Friday, April 26, 2013

BINGO

BINGO
By Candace Shultz

B is for the beginning when I'm excited to play the game.
I is for the ink that's used to daub circles on my cards.
N is for all the numbers called that match all of mine.
G is for my giddiness as I get closer to the win.
O is for having one number left when someone else calls bingo.


Thursday, April 25, 2013

Ghosts in My Shower

I woke up to the
sound of the shower running,
but no one was there.

When I was a teenager, I woke up in the middle of the night and heard the shower running, but when I went to the bathroom, no one was in the shower. I checked all the rooms and everyone was sleeping (mom and three siblings). Spooky. Even spookier? The owner who lived there before us was an old lady who died in the bathtub. 

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

A Mother's Reality

A Mother's Reality
By Candace Shultz

When you fall down and
hit your head, I want to cry
with you, but I don't.
Guilt eats at my heart that I
couldn't protect you from pain.

I can't protect you
from everything, but I can
keep calm and comfort
you. I can hug you and kiss
you and distract you with games.

I'd do anything
to take away your sorrow.
I am your mother.
Your pain is my pain, but I
will be strong for both of us.


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

One Fine Spring Day

One Fine Spring Day
By Candace Shultz

We stroll through the town
Under the shade of the blooming trees.
We gaze at the flowers
As we enjoy the warmth of the sun.
A gentle breeze flows through my hair
And tickles my noise with fragrant blossoms.
I smile and sigh and sneeze.

Then I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze.
My eyes start to burn.
My throat begins to itch.
My nose drips and drips.
And I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze.


Monday, April 22, 2013

This Isn't a Poem

This Isn't a Poem
By Candace Shultz

I'm not writing a poem today.
You can't make me. No way!
I will run, and I will play,
But I won't write a poem, no matter what you say.

The playground is calling my name
Where all the kids are playing a game.
But school is making life so lame.
I'm stuck inside, and you're to blame.

I didn't do my homework,
So you went berserk,
And now there you lurk
At your desk waiting for my masterwork.

Now I'm really getting bored
As I look toward
The window at my horde
Of friends. I'm really feeling ignored.

Well, maybe I'll admit
That perhaps I shouldn't omit
My homework, but only if you'll permit
Me to go outside to do my skit.

Here's my poem. Yes, it's true.
I wrote this poem all for you.
I hope you'll forgive me for my few
Misdeeds. Now I bid you adieu. 





Sunday, April 21, 2013

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Sleeping like a Baby

Sleeping like a Baby
By Candace Shultz

Let her go,
This I know,
But still I want to see
What's wrong with my baby.

Let her cry.
Ten minutes go by,
And still she's not sleeping,
So now I'll take a peep in.

She looks at me as I walk in,
Then she pulls to standing.
I check her diaper, sing a song,
And lay her down. Then not too long,
She's fast asleep again.


Friday, April 19, 2013

Just Keep Running

I've been dieting lately to lose all the weight I gained during pregnancy. It's hard work to eat less and exercise more. Sometimes I feel great about myself and what I've accomplished so far. I lost 12 pounds in 6 weeks. Other times I just feel so hungry that I can only think about the negative things: I gained a pound back in the last three weeks because I got off track on my diet and exercise. So today I wrote a poem about my struggle with diet and exercise.

Just Keep Running
By Candace Shultz

I listen to my stomach growl
And try to ignore the pain,
But everything entices me
To just eat and eat and eat.
Eat that bag of Doritos,
Eat that chocolate bar,
Eat that slice of pizza,
Just enjoy them all.

Some days I give in.
Other days I am strong,
But thinking about food all day
Just seems so wrong.

Then I try to exercise to burn off all that weight,
But sometimes I have to fight myself
To put down my book or game.
Why do something tedious
When I can relax instead?

Other times, I run and run and run and run,
Yet I still don't get too far.
All that exercise means nothing
If I still don't lose the weight.

So goodbye to all that yummy food
And all that extra free time.
I must ignore the grumbling
And get up from the couch.
I'll run and run and run and run
And hope to feel fit in time.


Thursday, April 18, 2013

Death, He Welcomes Me

As I thought about what to write today, a line popped into my head: I looked in the mirror and Death stared back at me. From that line, this poem just unfolded itself into its current form.


Death, He Welcomes Me
By Candace Shultz

As a child,
I climbed a tree and Death climbed up with me.
I swam in the ocean and Death swam after me.
I rode my bike down a hill and Death rode close behind.

As a teenager,
I drove a car and Death sat next to me.
I went to a party and Death was holding a beer.
I laughed in the face of danger and Death laughed back at me.

As an adult,
I kept myself busy with work, family, and friends,
But even though I tried to forget him, Death would lurk around.
I'd look in the mirror and find Death staring back at me.

Now that I'm older,
I watch my grandchildren as I rock in my chair and Death sits by my side.
I smile at all my family and Death reaches for my hand.
I close my eyes and see my old friend Death as he welcomes me.


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

A Than Bauk Poem - A Dieter's Failure

Today the poem technique I used is Than Bauk. You can find some information here. Basically, there are three lines with four syllables each. Each line should have a rhyme, but instead of rhyming at the end you rhyme on the fourth syllable of the first line, third syllable of the second line, and second syllable of the last line.

A Dieter's Failure
By Candace Shultz

It's true that I
have failed my goal
to. . .  Pie! Oh yum!

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Lack of Inspiration

Inspiration will
not come to me today, so
this is all you get.



At least it's a haiku!

Monday, April 15, 2013

Snowball Technique

The following poem is a snowball, another OULIPO technique, in which each line has one word and each word has one extra letter than the previous line. I like this technique, but it becomes much harder as you add on the letters. You can go to this link to learn more about the snowball technique.



I
do
not
know
peace.

Sneaky,
gradual
measures
destroyed
everything.

Hatemongers
masterminded
destituteness,
depravednesses,
destructiveness.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Roadstead Not Taken - An N+7 Poem

I like to try new poetry forms sometimes. I found a poetic technique called OULIPO that combines mathematics and poetry. More specifically, I used the N+7 rule in which you use a poem already created and change each of the nouns in that poem with a noun that's seven nouns away in a dictionary. I decided to use Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken. I referenced the 2006 version of Merriam-Webster's Dictionary and Thesaurus

The Roadstead Not Taken
By Candace Shultz

Two roadsteads diverged in a yellow woodcraft,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one travesty, long I stood
And looked down onrush as far as I could
To where it bent in the underproduction;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better clamshell
Because it was grassy and wanted weathering,
Though as for that the past there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morpheme equally lay
In league no stepparent had trodden blackbird.
Oh, I marked the first sergeant for another daylight saving time!
Yet knowing how weak force leads on to weak force
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a signatory
Somewhere ageratum and ageratum hence:
Two roadsteads diverged in a woodcraft, and I,
I took the onrush less traveled by,
And that has made all the digest. 


In my opinion, I think N+7 just turns out really weird. Though I love math just as much as creative writing, I don't think I'll be combining them in the N+7 way again. However, I might try one of OULIPO's other techniques.


Saturday, April 13, 2013

Techie Haikus

My husband convinced me to enter a techie haiku contest on ThinkGeek. Here are the haikus I'm thinking about entering into the contest. 

Oh, hello Kirby.
Wait...what?...Please don't suck me in!
I have no powers!

~ ~ ~

It's happened again.
I stare at my computer.
The blue screen of death.

~ ~ ~

Joshua Jackson?
I love Joshua Jackson!
I miss watching Fringe.

~ ~ ~

20 68 61 69 6b 75
Translation:
( haiku) 
written in Hexadecimal Code


My husband helped me with the last haiku. I wanted to write haiku in binary code, but it wasn't working out, so he told me to write it in hexadecimal code instead.


Friday, April 12, 2013

Clerihew - Sheldon Cooper

This poem is for all The Big Bang Theory fans out there!


Sheldon Cooper
Is in a stupor.
Even though he's sick, Penny won't take pity.
She refuses to sing "Soft Kitty."


Thursday, April 11, 2013

Limerick - Quit Monkeying Around

Quit Monkeying Around
By Candace Shultz

I once knew a guy from the zoo.
He kissed a girl monkey or two.
"Cut it out," I said.
He wiggled instead
And threw a big chunk of his poo.


Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Limerick - Old Mother Hubba Hubba

I've never written a limerick, so I gave it a try yesterday. The following poem is my first limerick ever. My husband came up with the title. 


Old Mother Hubba Hubba
By Candace Shultz

There once was a Grandma who read
A book of romance in her bed.
The words were obscene,
For her just routine,
So she jumped on her husband instead.


I dedicate this poem to my Grandma. 


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

A Daughter's Sonnet

I finished my sonnet! I hope you enjoy reading it.


A Daughter's Sonnet

By Candace Shultz

I wish that I could see my dad today
And tell him he was never there for me.
The truth is that he never cared to be.
It doesn't matter what he wants to say,
For all those years of tears he has to pay
For shirking his responsibility
And treating me as though I am debris.
Denying me will never be okay.
But I don't want to be like him at all,
So I forgive my dad. Rejecting him
Will only hurt me more. My anger's there,
But I release my pain to God and call
For peace between my dad and me to bring
An end to bitter ways and long despair.



Monday, April 8, 2013

Clerihew - Mr. and Mrs. Carter

I'm still working on my sonnet, and I really hope for it to be completed tomorrow. So today I will share with you two clerihew poems that go together. Mr. and Mrs. Carter are characters from my imagination.

Mr. Jerry Carter
Made a barter.
He lost all his money and wanted a gold knife,
So he traded for it by selling his wife.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mrs. Mary Carter
Was sold in a barter,
But she left her husband in laughter
Because she took all his money and lived happily ever after.


Sunday, April 7, 2013

Cleo and Me

Today I worked on a poem for two hours until my husband said it was 10:30 pm, but I still hadn't finished the poem. I started out with one idea, scratched the idea partway through, then went with an entirely different idea. I often want to be perfect when I write, so I edit as I go along, which really means that I stare at my paper as I run through various sentences in my mind until I finally write down one line 10 minutes later. Obviously my work will not be perfect, so I know I should just write and write and write, and then edit later.

Long story short, I didn't finish the poem I was working on today. I decided to write a sonnet, so it's taking a lot more work than my previous poems.

But do not be sad, my dear readers, for I will still share a poem with you. I delved into my old journal of poetry. When I say old, I mean one that's over 10 years old. I am sharing with you a rewrite of one of my very first poems. I say "rewrite" because I had lost the original and rewrote what I could remember. I think I wrote this poem when I was around 10 or 11 years old.

Cleo and Me
By Candace Shultz

I have a cat
Who is not fat.
She likes to always wear a hat
Only when she sees my Uncle Pat.
Her name is Cleo,
And she likes a cat named Leo.

I look forward to seeing her every day,
But my mom usually tells me to go out and play,
So I go to the bay
While Cleo is having fun playing in the hay.

She really loves the Lord,
And she won't touch a sword,
So when she gets bored
We jump in the beautiful white Ford.

When Cleo and I have nothing to do,
We go outside and play with Sue.
To have fun, we dye our hair
And show our parents to give them a scare.

Now that Cleo is a special friend,
My poem to you has come to an end.


Saturday, April 6, 2013

Sleeping Haiku

I decided to write haiku today. The day just whizzed by, and it's about time for bed, so I think haiku about sleeping or waking would be appropriate. Since today is Day 6 of National Poetry Month, I'll share 6 haiku.


Bleary-eyed, I wake
Though not of my own accord.
Damn you, alarm clock.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh fluffy pillow,
Where I love to rest my head
And sleep the night through.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I don't make the bed.
I just haphazardly throw
The blankets on me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I shiver from cold,
So I cuddle my husband
And take all his warmth.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I long for my bed,
To stretch out my legs and sleep,
To blissfully dream.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I should clean the house,
But my body says to sleep,
So I nap instead.


Friday, April 5, 2013

Because You Love Me

Because You Love Me
By Candace Shultz

I snuggle to your chest
And sleep in your arms.
I walk when you hold my hands.
I trust you.

You feed me when I'm hungry,
Bundle me up when I am cold.
You rock me when I'm crying.
I need you.

I laugh when you tickle me
And smile at your coos.
I cherish every hug and kiss
Because I love you.

I trust you with my life.
I need you every day.
I love you with all my heart.
Can we go outside and play?



Thursday, April 4, 2013

Clerihew - Little Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep
Was tired of sheep,
So she lost them one by one
And went into town to have some fun.


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Cinquain - Baby

Baby
By Candace Shultz

Baby
Sweet, curious
Crawling, standing, walking
Each stage just a fleeting moment
Toddler


Clerihew - Catherine Burns

I forgot to post this last night, so today I'll have two posts.




My mother Catherine Burns,
She did take a few wrong turns.
She drove in circles, around and around,
Only a mile from her own town.



Monday, April 1, 2013

Cinquain - Notebook


April is National Poetry Month! I've decided to write a new poem for each day of this month. Today I tried to write a cinquain for the first time. You can go to this website for examples and descriptions of a cinquain.


Notebook
By Candace Shultz

Notebook
Crisp, white pages
A blank slate for ideas
Becomes tattooed and worn with use
Journal




Friday, March 29, 2013

Clerihew Poetry - Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy

I decided to try a form of poetry I hadn't yet done. So after some quick research, I chose clerihew poetry.

Clerihew poetry has four lines with the rhyme scheme AABB. The first line consists of the name of a person. Sometimes the person's name is the only thing written in the first line. The next three lines should be about that person, and it should be humorous (or an attempt at being humorous - not everyone might think it's funny). You can go here (Wikipedia) for more information.

This particular clerihew that I wrote was inspired by Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.


Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy
Really had to pee,
So he rebuked a woman with whom he danced,
But by then he felt a trickle go down his pants.



Monday, March 18, 2013

Blackout Poetry - We Are Ugly

I created another blackout poem from a newspaper article. I chose the newspaper Kaiserslautern American again. The article "Bad behavior is good entertainment at Hilltop" appeared on page 19 on March 15, 2013.


We Are Ugly
By Candace Shultz

Polite adults
with civilized manners
rip into each other
like savage beasts
and trample
right over their son.

The parents 
begin nicely
and go downhill 
with accusations, tears, 
and bad behavior.

Their masks 
are ripped away.

Just how ugly can we be?



Here's the original newspaper article:





Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Sometimes I can be random

A couple of days ago my husband asked me to find a sheet of paper for him that had information about Zinio on it. I had just finished posting my blackout poem about reading, so I still had poetry on the mind. As I searched the mess of papers, notebooks, postcards, and receipts in my desk and on the floor (I really do need to clean my desk), this random poem flitted through my mind.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
One of these days,
It'll be you.

Isn't it a bit creepy? I wrote my poem down quickly at the behest of my husband (I would have forgotten the poem otherwise.). I don't have a title for it though. Do "Roses are red" poems usually have titles? 

So what kind of poems or scenes from fiction do you create randomly?


Monday, March 11, 2013

Blackout Poetry - Power of Reading

This time for swap-bot, I created a blackout poem from a newspaper article. I chose the newspaper Kaiserslautern American and the article "Read Across America shows children power of reading" on page 16, published on March 1, 2013.



Power of Reading
By Candace Shultz

Read to be a cat.
Read to believe.
Read a crazy book
Or read history.
Get excited.
Read to express 
Or read to rest.
For fun or learning,
Carry a book and read.


Here's the original newspaper article.


Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Skin and Bones

Skin and Bones
By Candace Shultz

BMI says I'm obese.
Wii Fit says it too.
Now I have to lose some weight,
And it's making me feel blue.

So here's to counting calories
And trying to get fit.
I'll just have one last hurrah
And eat some chocolate.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Coffee


I am addicted
to your bitter flavor mixed
with sugar and milk.



Okay, that's my last haiku post for today. :D

More Haiku for You


The cold gray buildings
stare unfeelingly at me.
I wish there were trees.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Little squeaking sound,
I hear you but can't find you.
Please don't be a mouse.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Red, orange, yellow,
green, blue, indigo, violet:
colors of skittles.




Random question: Do skittles come in an indigo color? 


Nature Haiku


Pure, white, pristine snow
caresses my cheek and falls
to the dirty ground.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Goodbye snow and ice.
Hello to grey skies and rain.
Bring me some flowers.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh naked branches,
clothe yourselves in hues of green
and spring forth your fruit.


Haiku about Lilia

A pink butterfly
flutters on a bright yellow
onesie of a girl.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Bubbles float around
her head until one settles
on her nose and pops.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

She crawls back and forth
expending energy that
I wish I could have.



Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Blackout Poetry - Deep Magic

This is my other blackout poem that I wrote for swap-bot. I created it from page 185 of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis in his larger work The Chronicles of Narnia (my copy has all the stories of the series in one book).

Deep Magic
By Candace Shultz

The warmth of his breath came over her,
and she covered him with kisses,
her eyes very bright, limbs quivering.

He was beautiful.

They rolled together
in a happy laughing heap
of arms and legs.

It was like playing with a thunderstorm.

And when they lay together
panting in the sun,
no longer tired or hungry or thirsty,

All was golden.


Monday, February 11, 2013

Blackout Poetry - Incompatibility

I entered a swap at swap-bot involving blackout poetry.  I chose Pride and Prejudice page 162 for my poem.This is one of the poems I sent to my partner, titled Incompatibility.

Incompatibility 
By Candace Shultz

Her deeply-rooted dislike of man
Did not vary for an instant.

When he should have hope
He had doubt and anxiety.

Colour rose into her cheeks,
And she said,
If I could feel, but I cannot.
I am sorry.

His eyes fixed on her face,
His complexion pale with anger,
The disturbance of his mind visible.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Where, Oh Where, Can That Zombie Be?


Back in September 2011, I began a poem inspired by the song Last Kiss by Pearl Jam (go here to see lyrics and to hear the song). I wrote about half the poem and then put it down to rest. Every once and a while I'd pick it back up with a fresh mind, but here we are, almost a year and a half later, and I've finally finished the poem.

In no way am I making fun of the song Last Kiss. My poem basically goes along with the music/rhythm of the song.


Where, Oh Where, Can That Zombie Be?
By Candace Shultz


Where, oh where, can that zombie be?
I know he’s looking out for me.
He’ll eat my brains until his stomach’s fed
And then I’ll be one of the walking dead.


I was sitting in a bar drinking a beer
When a man nearby moaned in my ear.
I turned around to tell him off,
But his rancid smell made me cough.


I couldn’t believe my own drunken eyes.
His rotting skin was crawling with flies.
His mouth was dripping with blood and gore.
When I saw his guts, I ran out the door.


Where, oh where, can that zombie be?
I know he’s looking out for me.
He’ll eat my brains until his stomach’s fed
And then I’ll be one of the walking dead.


I ran down two blocks before I slowed down.
I took a few breaths and looked around.
The creepy man was nowhere in sight,
But I heard a noise, so I looked to my right.


Across the street a woman screamed at a man.
He moved in closer and pushed her up against a van.
He leaned down and when they pulled apart,
She fell down and he was eating her heart.


Then the woman stood, and when she looked my way
I ran and hid, which saved my life that day.


Where, oh where, can that zombie be?
I know he’s looking out for me.
He’ll eat my brains until his stomach’s fed
And then I’ll be one of the walking dead.


Thursday, January 17, 2013

Stir Crazy

Well, Christmas has come and gone. It didn't inspire me to write. However, today I went stir crazy. And guess what? I wrote a poem.


Stir Crazy

By Candace Shultz

Pressure builds in my chest.
Anger burns in my veins.
Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

I can’t sit still,
So I pace the floors
As screams echo in my head.

Day in, day out, it’s all the same.
The walls are my prison bars,
The windows pictures of a faraway land.

And I’ve lost the key to the door.


I feel a little bit better now.