a poem is not a bed

Photo by Saliha on Pexels.com

A poem cannot be a bed.

No matter what you’ve read,

A poem cannot be a bed.

A bed can you keep you warm on a cold morning, pushing back the start of the day.

Can a poem do that?  Keep away the chill, keep you from rising,

From the mornings bustling and the days hustling?

That’s beyond its scope, wouldn’t you say?

A bed has sheets and blankets, soft and cozy to cover you.

Can a poem do that?  Wrap you in its words, like bedclothes,

From your toes all the way up to your nose?

That’s not something words can do.

A bed can keep you safe from nightmares, cover your head.

Can a poem do that?  Act like a shield and keep your ghosts at bay,

See you through the night until the sun rises and you’re ready to play?

With a poem for armor, you’d surely be dead.

A poem cannot be a bed.

No matter what you’ve read,

A poem cannot be a bed.

A bed will be there for you, tired or not, day or night.

Can a poem do that?  Give you the space to just be,

Accepting you for who you are, not caring what you or others see?

Words on a page, they can’t do that…  Right?


Loved this post from Rara and thought I’d have a go at it too. Not sure I did it well at all but at least I’m trying to write more consistently and that’s nothing to scoff at these days.


Prompt: What can’t a poem be? List ten different things a poem cannot be. Then write a poem that attempts to be at least one or more of those things.

From: Eat A Persimmon by Carla Sofia Ferreira

Jesterly Challenge Month – November 2nd

Rara asked me to tell the story of my life through book titles.  Give it a read and then tell me how I did in the comments.


A Tale of Two Cities: I was born in Ridgecrest, CA.  But, Ridgecrest is basically two cities.  It is the civilian city of Ridgecrest and the Navy Base city of China Lake.  The two are basically one.  This book is also a fitting place to start the story of my life, because I’m a Gemini, and because the city represents a peaceful childhood and a wanderlust that eventually drove me away.

Tarzan:  Along with being one of the first series of books I remember truly enjoying, borrowing from my Dad’s collection and raiding the stash from our small local library, as I have touched one before, I’ve always felt like the most important part of my early knowledge and experience as a child came from my experiences away from the formal classroom.  The wild places have called to me and taught me from my youngest days.

Banner in the Sky:  I conquered Whitney when I was 11.  It’s weird to have such a defining moment of my life be so long ago now, and yet still be so poignant in who I am and how I approach life.  Anything is possible if attempted with the right preparation and the right passion.

The Hatchet: I joined the Scouts and spent my Junior High and High School years trying to survive the terror of bullies and the introverted person I was in school, while simultaneously learning how to be self-sufficient and a leader in every other aspect of my world.  Earning Eagle was the culmination of that dichotomy, but I didn’t fully break free of it until I left Ridgecrest to attend college in San Diego.

The Great Gatsby: I reinvented myself in college.  I was gregarious in all aspects of my life.  I partied and made friends, I hid the shy parts of me, and I lost myself nearly completely in the process.  I ended that four year haze with no clear idea of what I was supposed to have learned or what my future was going to hold.  The charade quickly unraveled when confronted with real world responsibilities and I spiraled into one of the darkest periods of my life.

Ender’s Game:  Not only was this book gifted to me while I was floundering for purpose, searching for meaning, and trying to relearn what I needed to be happy, is that not, in part, exactly what Ender is enduring as well?  The twist aside (no spoilers here), it wasn’t until he let go of his reservations, fears, and the idea of what he thought others wanted from him that he was free to find himself.  I had to do the same thing, and it worked for me as well.  I stopped worrying about expectations and focused solely on what I needed, and I found the truths that led me back to being happy with who I was.

The Princess Bride: Enter the Queen, our whirlwind of adventures, our battles and triumphs, our chaos and peace, and, throughout it all, our true love.  Who knows how this adventure will end, but we’ve got the love thing working for us, so I’m certain it will be a happy ending.  Right?  Right.  (That’s a shout out to the fans of the book rather than fans of the movie, because differences are key.)

Mr. Brown Can Moo: Enter the Little Prince and so much silliness, and adventures of a different sort, while being nearly identical to the adventures from before at the same time.  There are games and strange noises, and messes, and trains, and thunder, and every sort of wonderment you can imagine or make the sound for, including lightning, and it’s very, very hard to make a sound like that.  While no longer in regular rotation, this story was a favorite in the kingdom for a long time.

And that’s the story of my life… so far.

Happy Tribus from The Matticus Kingdom


Winding through the woods,
The trail disappears ahead,
My heart follows it.

Spells leaping off pages,
Or slight-of-hand tricks and skills,
My heart believes all.

Words plucked along strings,
Strumming triumphant stories,
My heart sings in beats.


Today we are celebrating Tribus – all about the three you love.

You know you want to join in the fun too.  So, write it up, link it up, and tag it #HappyTribus.

And, you may have noticed a few changes around the kingdom, if you want to leave a comment telling me which has been your favorite of my posts over the last 3 years, I’ll feature it in the sidebar.

You are all awesome!

If I could…

Rara shared some of her husband’s writing over on Stories. It is a powerful piece, as most of his work is, and it will grab you and make you pay attention. His words pretty much always have that effect on me… Pop on over and see if they don’t grab you too.

Stories that Must Not Die

This was written by Grayson Queen in December of 2012, and published in novellette format to his book, Orange Buffalo. You may remember it from there. He was an artist, a writer, a blogger, a geek, a diabetic, a depression-sufferer, my husband, and billions of other things. His was born David Martinez, and in May of 2015, he died from natural causes– specific reasons still unknown. If you were one of his dedicated readers, please know I’m finding a safe space for each of his precious words, and please keep your eye out for news on my re-publishing and sorting of his works into printed form.

Thank you for your continued readership.
– Ra

Illustrations & Quote by Grayson Queen Illustrations & Quote by Grayson Queen


If I could come up with a solution,

would I bother ( ? … )

to be heard over the blare of mp3 players and bass-booming cars

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Today, we’re winning.

We are looking for your story. And, yes, err know you have one. And, yes, we know it is worth sharing. And as a wise dinosaur once said, “chances are, [we] love you.”

Stories that Must Not Die

This post was due yesterday, but… life.

It was supposed to be one of those quick and easy writing projects with a specific goal. The ones where words tumble out so deliberately and evenly that it almost reads too easily.

It was supposed to tell you to contribute here, to Stories That Must Not Die, because everyone has a story, and even just the simplicity of that idea is what pulls the rest of us through. It was supposed to say that there is a home here– for your strangest, most painful, most complicated, most vague words. And for you.

It’s supposed to explain how, after living a series of dramatic Stories, I have a new appreciation for the strength it takes to tell them, so there will be a space on Rarasaur blog for everyone who contributes here. A page link to all contributors, and a rotating banner…

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