Two Poems

So I'm taking this fantastic online poetry course from the University of Iowa called #Flashwrite. I'm two weeks in and already seeing a big difference, which is exciting because poetry has always felt like my weak point. But I'm having tons of fun with it. :) I thought I'd share the poems I've been working on since taking the course and ask if you have any advice for me, too. The first is from the week on imagery and the second is from the figurative language lessons.

Worn Tires on a Lonely Highway

Classic rock crackles through a bad connection,

Poor enough to annoy but just good enough not to turn off.

He's been driving for hours,

And the deep purple bags under once bright green eyes tell you

He's exhausted.

But the road is long and endless,

Pavement smooth and grey,

Double yellow lines faded to a ghost of a guideline.

It'd be so easy to veer off to the other side,

But he keeps on driving.

The rumble of the engine became your lullaby,

The smell of cheap gas station coffee and

Greasy bacon cheeseburgers from the sketchy diner with broken AC

Your fragrance of choice.

Motel carpets that used to be green are now brown,

So you don't take your shoes off even when you crawl between wrinkled sheets,

But the sound of his snoring still sings you to sleep.

Morning comes early,

And it's back on that lonely highway,

Just the two of you up front and an empty backseat.

Two brothers,

One car,

All the days to keep on fighting.


Lila

She is an angel of the underworld,

Too good for dark but

Too dark for good.

She is lost,

Like a cat that roams the neighborhood streets,

Perching only for a night on wicker porch furniture,

Never staying in one place long enough to watch the sun set and then

Rise on a new day.

She is thirsty,

Parched lips and dry tongue yearning

For the wetness and satisfaction of feeling

Her skin brush that of another

Who knows what it's like to be cold

Even in the thick oppression of August's rays.

She is broken,

Made up of shattered shards of mistakes she

Glued back together but in the wrong places with "what if"s and

"Could have been"s and the

Glittering promise of redemption she chased for years,

Like a mirage on the desert horizon.

Instead of water she found dust

And rust

And lust for a pinch to pull her from this nightmare she mistakenly called

Hope.

She is the hitchhiker on the side of a highway.

She is rain on campfires.

She is the back corner of a garage where you store your

Forgotten notebooks and bicycles with flat tires.

She is a moonless night,

She is melting wax,

She is shame

And blame

And self-inflicted pain,

But most of all,

She is.

What did you think? Is there anything I can do to improve either one of them? If you'd like, you can share some of your poetry in the comments. I'd love to read it!