BOTB Presents: A Weekend Writer’s Workshop

Earlier this week, I was digging up some old work that I’ve done to submit to Drop Of Ink and I thought it would be fun to post some work here as well to get feedback.  As the days went by and the idea began to marinate, I realized that I’d really like starting to write regularly again.  Thus, the idea for becoming a weekend writer, and this segment, was born. 
I really enjoy writing poetry so I guess I’ll start with it. Let me know what you think.
First Dance
Drunk and still
Swinging from Piano Man,
The final slow song began
And his lubberly arms found
A way around me. I could feel
The sour rum blooming
On his breath and the sweat
Blossoming through his shirt.
He moved too fast though,
His Elvis hips wanting to break
Out of the tempo
Of You’re the Inspiration
And he pressed me into him,
Perhaps hoping that when
The moment ended
He would have something left.
I kept my arms loose
And imagined my mother’s
First dance with my father
And wondered
If they ever danced again,
Secretly,
After putting my older sister to bed,
Or if their feet ever moved
In the same slow-step swing.
But I could only remember
Loud voices, hushed
Whispers, and sad eyes.
He held me tight
And as we moved,
I couldn’t bear
To look into his happy
Irish face because
I wanted to cry.
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3 thoughts on “BOTB Presents: A Weekend Writer’s Workshop

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