Poem: Bliss

I wrote this quickly a few years ago for a creative writing class.  It made me laugh and still makes me smile when I read it.  I got a “Short and Sweet” comment from my instructor.

Bliss (2008)

Remember our tiny apartment by the river
where we spent my birthday
lying sideways on our bed
alternating between love and slumber.

Oh, how we laughed, while fully engaged
a passing freighter chose that particular moment
to blow it’s foghorn
abruptly breaking our momentum.

© Liza Bennett
All Rights Reserved


Poem: Comfort in the Familiar

Comfort in the Familiar (2009)

The tips of her fingers brushed the spines of her books
standing guard upon sturdy shelving encircling the room.
The iron bed was spread with Battenberg lace
and the requisite matching dust ruffle.

Hearing rumbling outside her door,
she took a peek down the long hallway.
Surely something exciting must be happening,
as there was brightness where once darkness.

With hurried steps, she went to the shelf
opened the lid to the oak box holding the key.
Growing impatient, she clumsily unlocked
the shackle attached to her ankle.

Ignoring the disapproving stares of her people,
she tip-toed into the hallway.
Her fingers calmed her trembling lips as
gilded frames gave way to ebony and glass.

Her pounding heart deafened her ears,
she reached the end, or maybe the beginning.
She found her room decked out in modern design–
it was both shocking and intriguing.

Image By Anthony Zierhut

Shielding her eyes,
she raced back,
slammed the door shut,
clamped on the shackle,
returned the key,
before collapsing into the overstuffed chair.

© Liza Bennett
All Rights Reserved

Poem: Your Own Worst Nightmare

I had the most horrendous headache yesterday, caused by clenching my jaw (TMJ) while sleeping. While trying to ignore the pain last night, I was reminded of a time I awoke with intense pain in my jaw.  I had taken some pain reliever and while waiting for relief, I started composing lines in my head.  After a few minutes, I forced myself to get up and write down what I had ‘written.’  It’s not
perfect, but it really relates to how I was feeling at the time.  Feel free to send comments or suggestions.

Your Own Worst Nightmare

Heinous laughter escapes as she wrestles her nemesis,
pulling at his cartoonish face and hair, promising impending doom.
Bolts of pain spike to the brain, sending eyelids fluttering.
Stumbling from the warmth, flailing hands search frantically for relief.
Slowly it trickles into the blood, sending instructions up the chain.

Tiny cracks appear gradually, bringing acute discomfort with them.
The old is chipped away creating a nice sturdy foundation for the new.
The perfect porcelain replica assumes its position in the row,
masking signs of previous damage from increased stress.
Relief trickles into the blood, sending signals of hope to the brain.

The hammer strikes steel, sending mandibular tension to the top.
The pretty new one holds firm, barring any chance of fracture.
The root remains hidden, resentful of the new it must bolster.
Slowly over time the old shows itself, lest it be forgotten.
Panic trickles into the blood, pleadings for liberation in vain.

© Liza Bennett

All Rights Reserved

Poem: “Echoes”

Several years ago I discovered that I could indeed write.  I would ask myself what others have asked, “Is this poetry?”  I discovered that I had a lot to say, with all those musings constantly filling my thoughts.  As I studied the writing craft, I found myself searching for new ways, usually through metaphor, to convey what I was feeling in a way that the reader would not know my intention.  Continue reading