Kristen Iarkowski's Poetry Flyer

The Swing

Leaping and frolicking

On the flower dusted lawn;

A grin from ear to ear

With long belly giggles.

For I am soon to be on the ground

Completely unaware of what had happened.

One night passes by.

My right arm held close to my chest

As every time I move

Pain radiates through my six-month-old body.

My parents didn't know,

I didn't know.

Struggling to eat with my left hand

My mother soon put two and two together.

I had broken my arm.

Speeding to the ER

Crying rivers of tears.

I didn't know what would happen.

I thought I was going to lose my arm.

But alas, that was not the case.

I had a cast, almost as large as my toddler body

But I suffered through.

And soon enough,

I was back to my old self.

The Monster

F-E-A-R

It’s like a shadow of doubt that has been cast over you.

Every minute

Every second,

Brings on more butterflies in your stomach;

Except these,

aren’t butterflies anymore.

They’re now your worst fears,

ripping at your insides,

tearing you apart.

Anxiety kicks in,

along with a bucket of sweat and tears

Your hands,

your body.

They shake and quiver as if you’ve been placed in the arctic.

I’ve learned that there is a certain level of pain that your body can handle,

I’ve reached that point.

You literally become numb,

almost as if you’re sleepwalking.

Imagine you felt this way…

Forever.

Now think about the pain and the consternation,

the fear that eats away at yourself.

The dread of getting out of bed,

because you know what lies behind your bedroom door,

and you don’t want to endure that.

So you collapse,

your heart beats faster than a race horse,

Every little tick the clock makes...

you hear.

And that, my friend,

is fear.


Too Short

Life

Verve Bright

Jumping Laughing Talking

Old age consumes you.

Crying Dying Flat-Lining

Cold Silent

Death

Be Glad Your Nose Is On Your Face by Jack Prelutsky

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!