Better Unnamed

Day 4

Write a poem in which you explore what you think is the cruelest month, and why. Perhaps it’s September because kids have to go back to school. Or January, because the holidays are over and now you’re up to your neck in snow. Or maybe it’s a month most people wouldn’t think of (like April), but which you think of because of something that’s happened in your life.

 a810376b7210aea448134c3ebb7dd4f9-d33avc4.jpg Image:

The worst month was the month we parted ways, the month that nothing was ever the same. The worst month was the month you barely said my name, like it carried its own shame. The worst month was when weeks would pass at a time and I couldn’t see your face. The worst month was when I stopped saying grace. The worst month was when I couldn’t hear your laugh.  The worst month always seemed to last and last. The worst month I would never see you smile and we were both so hostile. The worst month was filled with so much pain and despair. The worst month didn’t seem fair. The worst month didn’t make sense and everyone was tense. The worst month carried no hopes or expectations. The worst month was full on fear and hesitation. The worst month led to many misconceptions. The worst month left behind so few remedies and so many enemies. The worst month seemed to carry on for more than a year and brought so many tears. The worst month left us broken and alone. The worst month left us without a place to call home.

-M.A. Fernández

Copyright © 2016 Marlin Alicea Fernández, Soul to Ink. All Rights Reserved

Make it Legal…Make it Right

Day 3



They say I’m a rebel because I won’t let others tame my life. They say I’m too strong-willed. They say that I’m too different or too insane. I say why would I want to be same? Why would I want to be like so many others? All those people without spines or empty personalities, many that are blinded by what isn’t reality. They say I need to change or I’ll just keep making mistakes, as if we can’t control our fate or our lives change. They say to get help, it will fix me, it will make me better. They say it won’t be forever, they say the more I pop the pill the better I’ll get. They tell me not to stop, like if it was a threat. But the more I take, the worse I feel and the less I can deal. They say the emotions will stop taking over, but it’s more like these feelings have become my lover. They say time heals all wounds, but I see how determination and a strong will, persevere. They say not to focus on what’s behind but they don’t let me, my own path find. They want me to rewind, see what tortured me as a child. They want me to calm down my fire. To extinguish my passion, what makes me, me! What everyday sets me free. And it’s funny how now it all makes sense, when I’m not caged in by their fence. They said the pills would make me better but I have a message for them in the next newsletter. Their ideas weren’t right, all I had to do was fight. Their pills; only made me more unstable and made happiness seem like a fable. The positive effects they thought they brought, were only temporary and their drugs started messing with my memory. They only increased my symptoms, made my motivation for life a phantom. They thought that a man-made product could change my life, but it only tortured me day and night. They probably still think I’m not right, that I’m ruining my life. But I’ve never felt more stable and alive. With a clear direction of where I’m heading and what are the right things to do. So they can take their pills and I’ll stay with my strong will. I’ll reach the peak of each mountain I decide to climb. Then they’ll be the ones to ask, how was I able to conquer the past, to find the right path, put my life on track; build a strong foundation for others to admire? Then I’ll be the one to respond; that’s what happens when you’re made of passion and fire. 

-M.A. Fernández

Copyright © 2016 Marlin Alicea Fernández, Soul to Ink. All Rights Reserved

Variant Lune

Day 1

While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count, instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again.

First post for national poem writing month guys. Enjoy! 😀



I couldn’t wait for tomorrow,

Said I would,

but couldn’t wait till tomorrow.


So I start my path,

Commencing once again,

as the year before this.


I begin my path, anxious,

ready to kickoff.

Ready as I’ll ever be.


I said I would wait,

wait till tomorrow,

but I break my rules.


I break my rules again,

now, not then.

What matters, now, not then.

-M.A. Fernández

Copyright © 2016 Marlin Alicea Fernández, Soul to Ink. All Rights Reserved