Poem: The Sun

Hullo, friends! My schedule has been a little off the past couple of weeks, but I’m back again today with your regularly scheduled Tuesday post! If you missed it, around a week ago I posted about Twinepathy‘s birthday and the cover reveal sign-ups for IDIA #3, so if you’re interested in participating in that, definitely check out that post (or just fill out the form here). Today’s poem is more of a sad one–another one that I wrote for class. Hope you enjoy! (Also, there’s an important question at the end of this post, so make sure and comment your thoughts!)

 

The Sun 

C.B. Cook

 

The sun rose that morning,

a day like any other,

but it didn’t rise for her.

 

She poured her coffee in the kitchen.

Warm golden light enveloped her,

but she moved to the bedroom,

shunning the warmth.

 

The bedroom was dark,

lonely.

She embraced it because

it matched the heavy,

shadowy grief

weighing on her soul.

 

She flipped a switch

and the light buzzed overhead.

There was his bed,

his desk,

the stack of video games

his father had given him

instead of visiting.

She traced the squares of the quilt on the bed,

finally letting the tears fall.

 

The sun rose that morning,

but her son didn’t rise with it.

 

What did you think of that poem? And for the important question I mentioned earlier: if I put out a poetry collection, would you be interested in reading it? Comment below with your thoughts!

Poem: Falling

Hello, friends! Look who’s sticking to their schedule (so far)! Today I thought I’d share another poem that I wrote in my poetry class. Sometimes we had prompts, sometimes we didn’t, but the prompt for this poem was “death.” I had written a sad poem the week before, so I though I would add a twist to the end of this one. Just a note, this was written in February or March of this year. Hope you enjoy!

 

Falling

C.B. Cook

 

His best friend was dying.

 

He’d seen it happen to others.

Her skin turned a sickly shade,

her skin was too dry

and even though she denied it,

he could tell

she was barely hanging on.

 

Then it happened.

Falling,

sinking,

she shrunk away,

dropping to rest under their tree.

 

If he could cry, he would.

He felt himself beginning to fade, too,

and found it harder to hold on.

He longed

to join her

in the earth

below.

 

But,

as he watched,

a toddler with a bright red cap

picked his best friend off the ground

and proclaimed,

“My leaf!”

 

What did you think of that poem? Do you like poetry? Comment down below and let me know what you think!

Poem: Too Fast

Well, hello, friends! Look who’s posting something more than once a month! As I mentioned earlier this year, I have a poetry class this semester where I have to write a poem once a week. I’ve found that I actually enjoy writing poetry sometimes, as long as I get to write about something that makes sense to me. So here’s a poem that I wrote before spring break (and coronavirus), that I thought I’d share with all of you! Enjoy!

 

Too Fast

C.B. Cook

 

Slow.

Down.

You’re too busy.

 

You’re always running around with your head turned down to your phone and working on homework and going to work and wasting time while you keep going and going and going and never taking a breath or stopping and never taking time to actually look at the people around you while you’re absorbed in your own little life not even noticing how the days and months flit past you and no matter what I do I can’t get you to

 

look

up.

 

See the stars.

See the clouds.

Breathe in the

fresh, clean air

after the rain.

See the sunset

reflected in the pond,

setting the water ablaze.

 

Just.

Stop.

Breathe.

 

So there’s the poem! What are your thoughts on poetry? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

A Poem About Poetry

Hello, wonderful people! Long time no post, eh? College has been pretty crazy lately. This semester, though, I’m in a poetry class, and I’ve been enjoying it quite a bit! Since we’re required to write a poem every week, that also means that I have some writing to share with you guys. I hope you enjoy this poem, the first one that I wrote for the class. Now on to the poem!

 

It Was

C.B. Cook

 

It was pain.

I fumed inwardly,

glaring at the page,

struggling to form words,

ideas,

thoughts.

But the poem wouldn’t come.

Minutes passed.

A word came.

Then another.

Before long,

the page began to fill.

Lines about love,

anguish,

fear

sprouted from my soul.

I set down my pen

and smiled.

I looked back over my poem

and frowned.

It was word vomit.

 

I hope you enjoyed that poem! Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. And let me know what you’ve been up to!

Short Story: The Interview

Hullo my friends! I’m starting to dig through my collections of stories from the past semester, and I came across this one. This is a little different than my usual genre, but I had fun writing it, and I thought you guys might like it. Enjoy!

It was one of those miserable days where the mix of icy rain and gusting wind makes it impossible to stay dry. Melody could feel the cold water trickling from her hair onto the back of her neck and shuddered, pulling her coat tighter around her. She always hated walking, but walking in the rains was even worse. She quickened her pace, close to the edge of the curb, as the coffee shop came into view. Her meeting was supposed to start five minutes ago, but the closest parking spot to her destination was three blocks away.

Melody hesitated on the edge of the curb, eyeing the oncoming traffic before dashing across the road. Her new boots splashed in the puddles near the edge, sending cold water squishing into her socks. The wind whipped her hair back as she jogged across the street. She didn’t even notice the darker spot on the road, glistening from spilled oil.

Her foot slipped, and she hit the ground. She groaned, trying to catch her breath, but all she could feel was the water seeping into her clothes. A car screeched to a halt, bouncing to a stop only a few feet away from hitting her.

Melody sat up, groaning again. She was definitely going to have some bruises. The car door opened and a guy half got out, peering over his car door. “Are you okay?” he yelled.

“I’m fine!” Melody snapped, pushing herself up to a standing position. She wobbled slightly, but she was glad she could stand. Falling again would be too embarrassing. Not that she wasn’t already a mess.

“Then could you get out of the road?” the guy called, pushing his light brown hair off his forehead. “I’m running late.”

Melody glared at him, any gratefulness she’d had for his concern evaporated. She didn’t give him the benefit of a response and stalked to the side of the road. She made sure to take her sweet time. The guy slammed his door and raced off down the street, and Melody glowered at his retreating taillights.

She walked the little ways down the street to the coffee shop and shook herself off at the door, sending droplets of water mixed with oil flying. Smoothing her hair down and stomping the water off her boots, she slipped into the coffee shop. A bell jingled over the door as she opened it. Soft music played over the speakers, and the dim lighting gave it a homey feel. Unlike most coffee shops, old-fashioned booths and checkered tablecloths made the coffee shop feel more like a diner. Only two or three people lingered in the coffee shop.

Melody went up to the pastry case, where a middle-aged woman was humming as she replaced some of the pastries. The woman looked up and her eyes widened. “Oh, honey! Bless your heart! You’re soaked right through!” She bustled out from behind the counter. “You sit right down and I’ll find you some towels. I’ll get you some fresh coffee, too.”

Melody thanked her and sat in a booth, wrapping her arms around herself as the cool air and her wet clothes sapped her body heat. Her wet clothes clung to her skin, and she was grateful when the woman came back a minute later with two clean dish towels. The bell dinged over the door, and Melody looked up from patting herself dry with one of the towels. Her eyes narrowed instantly as she recognized the man who had almost run over her.

“Hello, sweetheart! What do you need?” the woman called out cheerfully.

“I’m here to meet with Melody Hackett.” He shook the raindrops off his thick coat.

Melody smiled. How perfect was this? She could give him a hard time now. Clearing her throat, she raised her hand. “That’s me,” she announced. She kept her face neutral, but she couldn’t help but feel a spark of delight at the look of utter shock on the man’s face. He approached her cautiously as if she was a wild animal that might bite him.

“Oh… hello,” he said, quickly switching to a smile, but she could tell it was a nervous one.

“You must be Luke Norwood,” Melody said, staring him down, but still trying to keep her expression neutral. Keep him guessing, at least.

He scratched the back of his head, still standing awkwardly next to the booth. “Um… can I sit?” At her nod, he slid into the booth. “Yeah… Um, I’m sorry about yelling at you earlier. I was nervous about this meeting and I wasn’t thinking, and I knew I still had to walk over here from the parking lot down the street…” He trailed off, fidgeting with his hands and staring down at the table.

Melody hesitated as the waitress came over and poured coffee into mugs for them. She sipped the steaming liquid and felt warmth spread through her. She looked over her mug at Luke, and he quickly looked down at his coffee. “It’s okay,” she told him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you a hard time.” Luke looked up, and he must have seen the twinkle in her eye before she could hide it by taking another sip of coffee. “Why don’t we get started on this interview?”

Luke nodded, seemingly relieved, but his hands shook as he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Do you mind if I record this?”

Melody shook her head, and he started the recorder on his phone. “So, your official book release and release party are tonight. Are you ready for that?”

She shook her head. “I’ve released books before, obviously, but as an author, this project is close to my heart. I’ve never written a story this personal, and this story is based off some of my own real-life experiences.”

Luke tilted his head. “Really? How so?”

Melody began to explain the story behind her book, and Luke seemed genuinely intrigued. Eventually the interview shifted from normal interview questions into other topics of conversation. Before long, the two of them were laughing like old friends.

“I can’t believe you actually went skydiving with your grandma,” Melody said, gasping in between her laughter.

Luke shook his head, grinning. “She’s done more crazy things than I have.” He sipped his coffee. “She’s the reason I wanted to be a reporter, so that I could travel and experience new things.”

Melody looked at him over her coffee cup. “Has she ever almost run over someone before?”

He laughed. “Not that I know of.”

The waitress came by, placing the check on the table. Melody glanced at her phone. “Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been here for over two hours. That went by fast.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out her wallet.

Luke shook his head. “No, my treat,” he insisted, handing the waitress his card. “It’s the least I can do.”

Melody hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll let you, since you did almost—”

“Hit you with my car,” he finished, grinning.

Melody laughed and didn’t argue any further. The two of them got up from the table. “I can’t wait to read the article later.” She smoothed out her coat, although she knew she couldn’t do anything about the oil stains. “I hope you’re not one of those reporters that twists everything I say to mean what you want.”

“Of course not!” Luke exclaimed. He looked at her, eyes wide. “I would never!”

Melody made eye contact with him and he noticed the mischievous glint in her eye. “Are you teasing me?” he asked, shocked. She grinned and nodded, and he elbowed her. “Not funny!”

Melody laughed and gathered up the rest of her things. “I’m just joking. I trust you.” A little idea sparked in her mind as they walked towards the door. “So, what are you doing the rest of the day?”

Luke glanced sideways at her. “Well, I’m going to finish writing up this article and turn it in, but that’s really it. That’ll only take me a couple of hours.” He opened the door and held it for her.

Melody hid a smile and stepped outside. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” They hesitated outside, and Melody looked at Luke.

“So, um,” Melody hesitated and looked down, fiddling with the edge of her coat. “If you’re not doing anything tonight, do you want to come to the launch party?”

He looked at her, a smile growing on his face. “I would love to.”

Melody couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s a date, then.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed that short story. Did you like this different type of story? Be sure to let me know what you think in the comments below!