Tag: poet

This Body

i used to trick

the others

but it’s starting

to give out

it’s tired

worn and

filling up

with so much

“don’t give

a shit” thoughts

it has become a

disgrace to

wear it

this was printed

on the warning label

but i chose to

ignore the

possibility

it would let

me down

like all the

others before

i wasn’t made

for all this

bullshit

i wasn’t made

for the times

of fallen suns

in life you wear

many avatars

that never quite fit

in the right places

but you’re lucky

when you do find one

that hugs all the corners

(C) Shannon Lynette, 2024 (from her book, I’m Not Dead)

I’m Not Dead

I had no intensions of writing this book. I was preparing my book Awkward Years last year for publication which was the product after a long battle of writer’s block. I was proofreading when the line, “I’m not dead”, popped into my head.

What most people don’t know, last year I was silently dealing with getting a divorce due to being married to a porn addict who was also a hypochondriac on top of a narcissistic, unemphatic pathological liar. I was married to someone who tried to make me believe I was less than human. Someone that thought could mold me into what he wanted me to be. I was called fat, I was ridiculed for what I ate. I was promised things with no follow through, ever. I was blamed for the porn that was downloaded on my computer because “he would never do that”, so it had to be me. Family and friends were pulled on puppet strings and fell for every last lie that came out of his mouth. I could keep going.

One thing he had wrong. He messed with the wrong girl. I can’t be played. I’m not dumb, I wasn’t born yesterday. I stood my ground, called him out on his shit and he didn’t like it. In the end, I blame no one but myself. I knew after being married a year that this wasn’t going to end well and I played along to figure out a plan to rectify the horrible mistake I made. Anyway…

I’m not dead was stuck in my head and I decided that was going to be the title of my next book. I’m not dead became my motto. I was going to rise above this tragedy that should have never happened and I am going to reclaim my life. But this book would end up being more deep and powerful than I was planning.

At the same time as my divorce, I was also going through things that no mother should have to go through. I will not go into details but I will share things that are already public knowledge. My daughter had attempted suicide more than once and spent time in and out of the hospital last year. I can’t explain how I had the strength to keep going. I don’t want to say I survived because we are still working on powering through. But I will tell you, this last year had tested me in a way that I hope I never have to experience again. After all this, I am a believer that I will get through pretty much anything that comes my way. I have learned a whole lot and that in fact, IM NOT DEAD. And yes, I got the ok from my daughter to use this title under the circumstances because I did not want to offend her or come off as insensitive even though the title was thought up BEFORE her challenges. I feel like I must share this because I know what some of you are thinking and I will nip that in the ass right now.

I’m Not Dead is extra special. The plan for the cover was supposed to be me wearing my burnt up wedding dress (which is a metaphor for those who are a little slow) but as it turned out, I couldn’t fit into it so I had to go to the next best thing, my daughter. Well, she totally nailed it. I have gotten more compliments on this cover than any other cover I’ve come up with. And I have to agree. She captured the mood of the book not only for the cover but in all the photos in the book, more than perfect.

By far, this book is the one I am most proud of. I hope you give this book of poetry a chance. I’d love to hear your feedback about it, good or bad, and I encourage you to write a review on Amazon if you do take the plunge and decide to purchase it.

Music Notes

sometimes it takes a while

to find the messages

in distant abandoned spaces

sometimes it takes a while

to feel something

during the lost eras

have lived on cutthroat edges

hitting the nerves

the high notes

the “don’t give a flying fucks”

driving through hearts

skipping over check points

drowning in disaster

shadowed promises

holding your hands

with the suicide thoughts

that walked you home

weightless dance of time

floating in your mind

at night when souls wake

to remind you of falling scrap metal

playing behind the scenes

music notes dance fine lines

to narrate the dark

that cloaks your sky

through times of regret

of that second chance

changes in the seasons

litter your rib cage

lost your way

through the trees

but some how

and in some way

the night becomes the light

you needed all along

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Blood Bible

all things go dark

when the timing is off

blood bible stereo sessions

dainty hanging figures

bits of sickness riding echoes

hurting in silence

hurting in the open

this is what life is like now

when the storm comes through

the sun can’t wrestle the shine

it just observes from the sidelines

losing sight from what’s to come

days are heavy and nights are empty

all falling between spaces

small things come and go

while the heavy weighs you down

some will fly, some will sail

some, drowning in dark pools

grasping sharp edges

it’s all you know

fingertips gliding across splinters

tracing smoke signals with your eyes

burning pages written in code

they can’t read between the signs

secrets in the nook and crannies

magic doors

suicide notes

this is all tucked away in pages

you leave to find

breathing on your own

can make no sense at all

but you get up

take a deep breath and fly

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Closet of mazes

lost dreams wandering

ricocheted from silent hope

thoughts crash

the living burn

loosing yourself

in a room full of mirrors

tired steps fade

tired bones turn to stone

forgetting your name

as the ceiling closes in

fantasy dark clouds rising

it rains for days

it all comes down to this

the end of days

with tears in your eyes

and hurt tattooed on your skin

through cracked surfaces

scars light up reckless

memories pour over

swallowing hollow

keeping close, the sun

when no one is looking

and reflections catch you

only lasting till tomorrow

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Shag carpets

desires and passions

are strange

thoughts get stuck

in your head

in an abandoned

parking lot

life’s filter can make things

better than they appear

shag carpets

and secrets drenched

in wallpaper

you will ask

why this poem

isn’t colored in

tones

living life in

quotations until

it all feels real

and finally learning

all over again

(C) S. Lynette, 2023