Poetry: From Nothing

from nothing                 by mimi difrancesca ©2021

the unseeable




dark matter-

that blackness 

beside the stars-

the infinitesimal space 

between the smallest of particles-

that is where I began

moving out from nothing

taking physical form for 

this brief dance

and then-

i will leave a shimmering trail

of light and spark

behind when i return 

to where i began-

i am something

from nothing

Poetry Day: Rogue Wave

Rogue Wave

out of nowhere

he knocked me off my feet 

and pulled me under

deep into his world

i never struggled-

happy to drown

in all that surrounded me 

i traded air for water

and separated from the world i knew

floating in filtered light

Rocking with the current 

until much later

When he was done 

and took me up again

To lay me on the sand

where I stared at the sun

and let it burn me 

until I hurt everywhere

inside and out

he was my rogue wave

there and gone

as if he’d never been at all

somewhere below

on the side of a shipwreck

i etched my name

in the soft wood

with a broken shell

proof that i was there too

NaPoWriMo2021 Poem #30

Well gentle readers, this is it. The last of the 30 Poems in 30 Days for National Poetry Writing Month in 2021. Some came easy. Others were extracted with forceps through an orifice that will not be named. Like getting the lactic acid moving in your stiff knees, if nothing else, rising to write for a month straight will get your creative wheels greased and moving again. It’s time for longer pieces now. Maybe some painting next. Whatever you do, follow the words of Joss Whedon- “Write it. Shoot it. Publish it. Crochet it, sauté it, whatever. MAKE.”

Poetry- A decade poem

every decade i write one piece to shatter through the detritus that gathers in life. beyond an aging body, deep in the archives of our hearts are things that transcend all we are because they were defining moments that turned our path towards a different future. ~birthday present~

I Remember

Oh, yes

I remember

the exact color of your eyes-

I saw it once

flying over the Atlantic 

at noon looking down

on the blue gray ocean

I remember –

hard angled jaw

magnet for lips

tracing across

towards your quirked mouth

long curious fingers-

emotional barometers

their constant motion

seeking new experience

your velvet steel

fusing to my spine

creating something else

from what I was

your voices –

the deadliest weapons 

in your arsenal –

your day voice-

contagious laughter

like iron bells

ringing on a summer afternoon  

rattling my heart cage

but that other voice –

spoken in dimmed light 

and darkness 





that voice

was felt

between the legs

causing a listening soul 

to crawl towards it


for its life giving water

Oh, yes

I remember

If you are a first time visitor to this site…

So, weird format. Right? Let me explain. If this is your first time here, you are entering on Day 24 of the National Poetry Writing Month challenge: 30 Poems In 30 Days. The blog site doesn’t look like this May to March. Just April while NaPoWriMo is raging around the globe. Look it up. It’s a thing.

It’s my third year participating. In the past, I have participated as a “Panster”. That’s where you have no idea what the heck will come of out your head and you slap it down as it arrives. This year, I am trying out the “Planner” format and I’ve put my very own twist on it.

I am playing with a Verbiage & Distillation recipe where I “show my work”- writing down the thought cloud that comes before the poem so you can see how I got to where I ended.

I do a lot of cooking and liqueur making where I have to go from a bunch of whacky ingredients down to the essense of all of them in a single taste. My best libation so far- Camp Fire, a bourbon infused with maple and New Mexican Morita Smoked Chili Peppers. Sounds strange but it’s been fun to watch people go through all the faces as they identify its components just as the chili pepper starts to cook your mouth in a really good way. Then they ask for another pour. {Insert sounds of cheering here}

I try and write that way too. Gathering all matter of extraneous thoughts and distilling them down to the best part. Just like in the movie The Holiday, when Jack Black’s character Miles said to Kate Winslet’s character Iris before he played the piece of music he wrote for her, “I used only the good notes…”

Yeah, and I paint my recycled bottles with nail polish as a hobby. Hey, at least I’m not collecting string or gray eyebrow hairs like Nathan Fillion.