Category Archives: Poetry and Photography

Blood Orange Lipstick – National Poetry Month – April 12th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: 12/30 – April 12th.

Blood Orange Lipstick

Having stepped out of my comfort zone
Anxious, not knowing what to expect
I entered the address into Google maps
I followed the directions, my heart racing

Once parked, I looked at myself in the rearview mirror
Checked my teeth for food
Applied lipstick
Took a deep breath
Opened the car door
Strolled across the trashy parking lot, and
Walked through the doors

Scanning everyone
I landed on the person who seemed to be in charge
I walked over, introduced myself
Telling him this is my first time,
Asking, “How does it work?”

I was warmly welcomed
I was awestruck by the poetry shared
It felt familiar
It felt safe
It felt like I fit perfectly
Like this was a room full of
Various pegs — people
All shapes and sizes
This venue a board that had a place — space, a slot for every peg — person
As I left, I knew that I must return

I did return the next Monday
And the next,
and the next
And the next

This place
This space
These people
Fill my bowl

I am welcome
Unconditionally
I’m free to be my weird
Kinky
Attention-seeking
Loud
Foul-mouthed
Flirty
Beautiful
Smiling
Hugging
Self

The space
The energy
Has allowed me
Has encouraged me
To fully blossom
To embrace
This current Camilla
For there have been many versions of Camilla
With many more versions to follow

Life is fleeting
Life is a miracle
I desire to enjoy
All life has to offer
All I feel I want to experience

I have walked onto the stage
Nearly every time I have stepped through those doors

I have observed others take a similar path
Coming for the first time
As the weeks go by
They take that leap of faith
Walking onto the stage
Sharing of themselves

It is beautiful
It is inspiring
It is witchy
It is magical
It is alchemy
Is alchemy
alchemy

That one leap of faith
Awoke something that has been asleep since 2020

Reignited my creativity
My imagination
My desire to write

That one leap of faith
Led me to say yes,
Sign me up for more poetry events
Led me to say yes to
Dating myself
Loving myself
Treating myself to live music
Taking myself out for date nights
Yes to routinely stepping out of my comfort zone

That one leap of faith
Led me to throw myself a birthday party
Surrounded by my new-found poet friends

As I approach the one year anniversary
Of this leap of faith
I reflect on my life
I’m in such a different place now
A bold
Sparkly
Edgy
Fun
New place

I took a leap of faith
I walked thorough those doors
And
It changed my life
Changed my life
My life
LIFE

I am alive
FREEDOM

Camilla Downs, 2024

**Prompt: Write a poem that involves a leap of faith, metaphorical or literal, small or big.

Hold on Loosely- National Poetry Month – April 11th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: 11/30 – April 11th.

Hold on Loosely

It took strength
took strength
strength

To take these steps,
To keep going

Depart a failed marriage
Leave with a 1-year-old,
Leave with a special needs 5-year-old
Exit with all debt being in my name

Fly seven hundred and four miles,
Seattle to Reno
Knowing I would not return,
In all probability

It took strength
Took strength
Strength

To embark on the path,
The path of raising 2 kids alone

Of paying the bills,
The bills that were all in my name,
Up to the time
the money ran dry

No money, no way to make the car payment
Must return it to the bank

It took strength
Took strength
Strength

A 2 and 6-year-old with trouble handling unwelcome change
Meltdowns sure to follow
When told the car is leaving

Buy cookies
Bring out the party hats and horns
Explain we are throwing a going away party for the car
Going away party
Party

Music playing
Party hats on, horns blaring
Dancing
Partaking of cookies

Remove belongings from the car
Take photographs
Tell the car how much it meant to us
How much fun we had in it
Thank it
Wave goodbye to it

It did not take strength

It took love overcoming despair
took love overcoming despair
love overcoming despair
overcoming despair
despair

Camilla Downs 2024

Prompt: Write a poem that contradicts itself. Start by making an assertion. Then later in the poem contradict that assertion.

**This was nearly 20 years ago. It’s simply part of my history, and what came up for me when brainstorming for this prompt.**

Some Like it Hot – National Poetry Month – April 10th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: 10/30 – April 10th.

Some Like it Hot

It appears to be mundane
It’s a ritual actually

Remove the lid of the hand-held manual grinder

Open the stainless steel,
matte turquoise,
airtight canister

Vital next step to follow

Inhale deeply
Instant mood uplifter

Take hold of the the shiny metal scoop
Dip into the beans, filling the scoop
Pour beans into the manual grinder

Lid back in place
Begin to turn the grinder handle
Turn, squeak
Turn, squeak
Turn, squeak

Beans are coarsely ground
Unscrew the grinder
Pour freshly ground beans
Into a smaller,
Stainless steel,
matte yellow,
airtight canister

Inhale deeply

To the percolator
Add a cup,
plus a tad more,
of reverse osmosis water
Assemble the percolator

First the filter holder
Then the filter

Scoop an overflowing mound of
Freshly ground beans
Pour into filter
Add filter cover
Close percolator

Ignite the back stove burner on the right
Turn knob to high
Place percolator on burner

Ears on high alert
Listen for the magical, gurgling music
The percolator sings

When it’s singing
Set timer for two minutes, 30 seconds

Ding
Ding
Ding

Turn burner off
Remove percolator
Transferring it to the front left burner

Large mug ready to be filled

It sits on the curved,
olive-wood cutting board,
To the left of the stove top

With my left hand
Grab the hand-made pot holder
Knitted by my oldest

Using the percolator handle
Lift it from the burner with my right hand

As I tilt to pour the dark, steaming liquid
Place the pot holder on top of the percolator
Apply pressure

Place percolator on the back left burner
Once cool
Empty and rinse
Ready for the next cup

Lift mug
Inhale deeply

Walk to the rocking chair
The one by the windows
The windows with the views
Views of the Virginia Foothills and Mt Rose

Have a seat
Hold mug
Wrap hands around mug
Warm hands

Inhale deeply

Wait for coffee to cool,
Just slightly

Sip
Scroll

Sip
Scroll

Sip
Scroll

It appears to be mundane
It’s a ritual actually

Camilla Downs, 2024

Prompt: Write a poem about something mundane that you do regularly, that you’ve never written a poem about before.

Vibing With My Thoughts – National Poetry Month – April 8th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: #8 for April 8th.

Vibing With My Thoughts

Gather my thoughts you say?
Scores of racing thoughts
Each vying for attention
Each waving a red flag of urgency

Let’s take a tour
Camilla’s brain tour

ADHD is wild
A persistent flow of thoughts,
Difficult to focus on any one thought
ADHD for damn sure puts the spice in neurospicy

There’s the check with the pharmacy thought
The return the dermatologist call thought
The send those emails and texts thoughts
The did I respond to them? thoughts

The oh, keep stepping outside to view the eclipse thought

I want to write today’s poem
Yes, yes, after I eat
Oh, let me take this call from my co-worker

The distracting thought of pain from
From
From
Who knows what

Oh shit, I’ve got to help Thomas with
Their college to do list

What is that person doing outside?
Why are they doing that?

What the hell is that noise?
Takes 15 minutes investigating the noise
This brain cannot deal with random noises
Thoughts are completely derailed

Right, I’m ready to think about publishing that next book

Oh, there are Family Navigation clients
that need my attention

Wow! That’s an amazing cloud
Steps outside to take 10 photos
Of the clouds

Glancing at the plants,
Damn, the plants need water

And what is all over the floor?
I really need to vacuum.

Glances at boxes ready for items
To be returned
Shit. I need to print return labels

Sees a phrase that catches my attention
That would make a great poem
Opens notes to make a reminder of it

Sees another reminder
With unfinished thoughts
Gets distracted for 20 minutes

The bladder adds to the thoughts
It will be ignored no longer
Restroom break
Gets in the bathroom
Remberers for the hundredth time
The sink and counter need cleaned

Hey now, I know this sounds wild
To be sure, it is
I thrive with my hyper active brain
It’s good vibrations

Now imagine three of us in the
Household with the same thing
Makes for some lively conversations
Lively disagreements
I mean, lively conversations

Then there’s the thoughts
That get lost in a hidden fold of the brain
Designated as “The Corner of Lost Thoughts”

I imagine a tiny sign
With the words “enter here”
It’s divided into three sections

One section for thoughts
That will soon be remembered and recovered

Another section for thoughts
That will be remembered months later
This section is more comfortable,
With lots of food and drink
As they’ll be there for a while

The last section is a graveyard
With tiny tombstones engraved with things like,
“Here Lies Thought #222
It was important for 67 seconds
It had a lively life
Trying to get to the front of the thoughts line”
As you might have guessed
This is where thoughts go to die

On the flip side
When I’m working on something
I’m interested in
Something that lights my fire
Excites the hell out of me

I hyper focus
Deep Diving
Wrangling all other thoughts
Moving them into a holding pen
To wait their turn
While I enjoy the dopamine hits
Of working on a thought
Taking it from it’s birth to it’s ending
Giving it wings,
infusing it with knowledge
Releasing it to work its magic

Writing this poem
Any poem
Any writing
Researching something of interest
Taking actions that will
Light a fire under people’s ass
to do their damn jobs

Theses things light me on fire
Beginning with the initial sparks
The fire grows, consuming my attention
Holding my attention
With a tenacity backed and rooted
By the Gods of Tenacity themselves

Gather my thoughts, you say
I adore the way my brain works
And truly love this about myself
It’s a wild, magical ride
Camilla Downs 2024

**Prompt: from Monday Night Poetry host 2Schae: “Let me gather my thoughts”

She is Fire – National Poetry Month – April 7th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: # 7 for April 7th.

She is Fire

Lost
Anxious
Worried
I eventually make my way to you

When I quiet myself
Gazing into you
I feel the loving adoration you share

Nothing else exists
Only us

I feel the force of the universe
The power that holds everything together
I remember that I am a part of this cosmic symphony

With you watching over me
I feel the innate freedom
That has always been with me

I feel it rising from my abdomen
Gliding past my lungs
Gathering power
Moving into my esophagus
Sliding to my throat
Coalescing in my voice box
Escaping from my body
As I lift my chin
And howl with the force
Of an ancestral line of strong, fierce women

The thoughts that hold me back
Beat me down
Tell me all sorts of bullshit about myself

Those thoughts
They can be real assholes

Why did you say that?
Why did you do that?
Telling me I’m broken
Telling me people don’t like me
Telling me I’m too weird
Telling me that I share too much
Telling me I’m too open
Telling me I’m not worthy
Telling me I don’t make sense
Telling me I did it wrong
Telling me I did it wrong
Telling me I did it wrong

I’ve come a long way in conquering these thoughts
Just a whisper is all that remains
It’s gotten easier

With you reminding me
I know the force is within me
That force lives within the grooves of my brain
I know this is the way
“The Way” is now tattooed across my heart

I catch those thoughts the second
They invade my space
Reminding myself
That none of that is true

Gazing into you
I can see the path I have traveled
A path decorated with stardust
Wine
Laughter
Chocolate
Rain
Honeysuckle
Poetry
Words
Music
Love

An expedition of shaking loose
The shit that doesn’t have anything to do with me
Making my way to falling in love
With my weirdness,
My shine
My body
My chaotic fire
My authentic, vulnerable self

Thank you
Camilla Downs 2024

Today’s condensed prompt: Use this image and the image description below as a jumping off point for the poem. (From Ella Peary with @authorspublish)

Dear Mx. Ogir – National Poetry Month – April 6th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: #6 for April 6th.

Dear Mx. Ogir,

It is bitterly cold today, with gusts of wind making it difficult to walk. The sun encourages me that warm days will return soon.

I thought I could hear the wind whispering your name. The clouds reminded me of your beautiful face, your jet black hair. I could picture your dark brown, sultry eyes, with thick eyelashes and the natural black eyeliner circling your eyes. I spotted a patch of pink tulips swaying in the breeze, reminding me of your perfectly pink, cupid’s bow shaped lips with their natural light brown outline.

Do you miss me? What do you miss most?

Love,
Camilla

Dear Mx. Ogir,

On my walk today the sun was shining, the warmth fueled me with energy. The sky was an azure shade, I think maybe Celtic azure, with no clouds. I saw three butterflies, western tiger swallowtails. They are such stunning creatures.

I heard the song that played that day in the car. It was your birthday. I was driving, we were going out to lunch, and then to the museum. Do you remember?

It was a delicious day. We had fun, behaving as if we were teenagers, sneaking kisses and hugs when no one was looking.

I think of you often. Do you think of me?

Love,
Camilla

Camilla Downs, 2024

**Prompt: Write an epistolary poem to your future self, or to someone else, or something else. An epistolary poem is a poem that reads as a letter. They are often titled Dear (name of intended recipient or idea).**

July 9 2015 – National Poetry Month – April 5th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: #5 for April 5th.

July 9, 2015

I pulled over to the shoulder of the on-ramp
The one from Neil Road,
getting onto South 395

I got out
Walked to the passenger side
Leaned my butt against the car

Closed my eyes,
took a few deep breaths,
and asked to see the situation differently

I opened my eyes.

On the rocky, dirty ground,
Was a shiny, red jewel heart

There was my answer,
A reminder to respond with love

It was a scorching hot day in July 2015
I was running errands with
my 14-year-old special needs daughter
We stopped by the grocery store

Miscommunication led to a full
Blown aggressive meltdown for Lillian

Yelling
Grabbing and clawing at me
Pulling my hair

I panicked
Quickly leaving the store
Lillian following behind me
Screaming with the full force
Of her tiny body

Reaching the car
Losing all ability
To think logically

Lillian still in full-blown meltdown mode
I utter the ridiculous words,
“Get into the car if you want a ride home”

I wore a halter top that day
Lillian sits in the back,
behind the driver’s seat

We left the parking lot
Lillian began deeply scratching me
Pulling wads of hair from my head

Stuck in traffic
I could feel the blood dripping down my back
Head throbbing
From the chunks of hair being pulled out

The pain
Birthed intense anger
Lodging in my throat
Urging my tongue
To say something
Defend myself
Rip into this person
Attacking me

The anger flooded my mouth
Rising from my neck
Into my mind
Creating waves in my eyes
Waves that leaked
From the corners

The anger dripped into my chest
Trying to break the dam surrounding my heart
Making it’s way down my legs
Into my feet
Puddling in my toes

The anger moved with a typhoon
Force into my arms
Down to my hands
Into my fingers

Once pulled over
Turning to face Lillian
Hands gripping the headrest
The Anger erupted
My voice raised, my mouth let loose
With a colorful string
Of foul-mouthed words

Leave me the fuck alone
Stop hurting me
I don’t let anyone
Hurt me in this way
Never again

Sweating
In pain
Sobbing
I knew I must remove myself
From the situation
I got out of the car

No jive talking here
Whatever your beliefs
Some shit aligned in that moment
For when I asked to see this
Fucking uncomfortable, horrible situation differently

I was presented with
This amazing shiny, red heart
In the trashy, dirty on-ramp shoulder
Off Neil Road,
Getting on South 395
In Reno, Nevada
The Biggest Little City
On a scorching, hot summer day
In July 2015.
Camilla Downs 2024

**Prompt: Write a poem about an experience finding something unexpected on the ground.**

Her Hands – National Poetry Month – April 4th

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: # 4 for April 4th.

Her Hands

I close my eyes
I’m back in her house
In Richland, Mississippi
Sitting at the kitchen table
Surrounded by delicious smells
With a plate full of home grown food
And a large mason jar of unsweetened iced tea

I remember my mammaw’s hands
Slender, with long bony fingers
Hands that had worked hard

In second grade her mom died
She had to leave school
To be a sharecropper with her dad

This amazing woman knew how
To grow food, have an abundant garden
Always two freezers full of frozen vegetables
And a shed full of fresh canned foods

She used her thumb and index finger
To indicate measurements for baking
I remember asking
What does that mean?
A tablespoon, a 1/2 cup?
She wasn’t sure
She only knew the measurement
Of thumb to index finger

My mammaw was a spit fire of a lady
She spoke her mind
She loved her grand kids
Making sure we were fed and full
Was her guiding light

I admire her
I remember how she lay her left hand across her chest
When sitting at the kitchen table
Talking with me, studying me with
Adoring eyes through her glasses
Thinking about it now
I can see the curiosity,
The tenacity,
The strength behind those eyes

The stories she would tell me
That time I went for a visit
long after I became an adult and moved away
I treasure that week long visit
Talking, learning her history,
Listening, soaking her into my heart and mind

I remember the story she told
Of hitting my grandad upside the head
With a mason jar full of tea
When he told her he was leaving her
For another woman

I guess he got hit so hard he forgot
About the other woman
Or
Perhaps he changed his mind

The memories that flood me
At the sight of a mason jar
Fried green tomatoes
Tomato (“mater”) gravy
Biscuits
Collard greens
Black-eyed peas
Butter beans
The sight of honeysuckle vines
Blackberry bushes
Screen doors
Mud and good spoons

I hear her saying,
“Youngins, shut that door, you gone let flies inside.
Camiller, ah Camiller, don’t be using my good spoons in that mud.”

She was a strong ass woman
Opinionated
Kind
Elnor Key Downs
Born in 1919 in Louisiana, Died in 2001 in Mississippi
You, your essence continue to be felt and remembered
by your granddaughter who misses you and your hands.
Camilla Downs 2024

**Prompt: Book title as poem title. I colored outside the lines by changing the book title I liked. Ha!**

https://www.newspapers.com/article/clarion-ledger-obituary-for-elnor-key-do/104910820/

The Pooka of Friendships – National Poetry Month – April 3rd

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April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: #3 for April 3rd.

The Pooka of Friendships

Harvey, the 6 foot Pooka, is invisible to most
Only seen by
Those amongst us who
Crave connection
Those who have an
Excruciating hunger for meaningful friendships
Those who feel as if they are missing something
Those who feel there is a hole
in the fabric of their soul

It is a craving that catches in the stomach
Raging a storm
A storm of sadness, and longing
for a special connection with others

A hunger for shared laughter
Shared joy
Shared interests
Shared life moments

A biting hunger
Felt in the stomach
In the heart
In the mind
A craving that spreads
Through the nervous system
Down the arms
Into the hands, the fingers
Crawling it’s way into the mouth
Felt in the tongue, the gums
And the throat
Down the legs, into the knees, the calves
Pooling in the ankles, the feet, and the toes

This is a craving so intense
It spills from the corner of the eyes
Dripping into the air
Floating with a determined purpose
Searching for the one who can satisfy this craving

The 6 foot Pooka hunts these cravings
Searching for those drowning in this hunger
Those who feel like they’ve been locked out of having deep and true friendships

Harvey satiates the hunger of the friendless

Appearing only for those
Whose craving and hunger
Sits with an intensity that threatens to consume them

Harvey stays with their human friends
Til the night closes in
Deep in conversation
Sharing drinks
Sharing laughs
Connecting
Dancing together
Reminiscing together
Satisfying the hunger

Others look at them as if they’ve lost their mind
They’re right
They have lost their mind
They’ve lost their minds to one another
Sharing thoughts
Like only good friends can do

Their fondness for one another
Escaping from their laughter
Rising into the night sky
Taking a place amongst the twinkling night stars

Harvey
The 6 foot Pooka
Satisfies this hunger
Keeps their human warm
Stays with them
Until they meet human friends
Creating bonds
Growing deep friendships
With roots that anchor to the soil
Anchoring even further into the core of Earth

This is when
Harvey knows they have served their purpose
The 6 foot Pooka
becomes invisible to the one whose hunger has been satisfied

Harvey begins his hunt anew
Moving on to the next
Starving human
On and on into the future
Back to the past
And back again to the present moments of life.
Camilla Downs 2024

The below is a condensed version of today’s prompt:

Write about hunger, starving for something.

A cryptic with a craving should appear at least once, either literal or metaphor.

See if you can allow the hungry animal in your poem to stand for your own hunger, and in turn, for everyone’s. Write about that hunger so sincerely that it makes very reader hungry for something.

I combined it with another prompt:

Condensed: Write a poem that recounts the plot or part of the plot of a book.

I tend to color outside the lines so I shifted the first prompt to fit what I wanted to write about, and for the second prompt, I wrote about a character in a movie. Can you guess which movie?