More poems that I forgot to share from National Poetry Month prompt writing

I previously shared some really good pieces that I wrote using poetry prompts from other talented writers, poets, and creators on Instagram. Here are just a few more that I meant to share. Thanks for viewing!

Please see the link at the bottom of this post to go to my previous post of National Poetry Month pieces.

(Please pardon if any of these shared are repeats.)

Here is the link to follow to read my previous post from National Poetry Month:

How the first week of National Poetry Month went – Enjoy this selection of poems!

Pecans, Strawberries & Watermelon Seeds- Winston Teeny Bopper

I have just recently returned to using Instagram as social media was previously one of my biggest triggers. I am affirming my purpose as a writer, and there are always going to be moments of questioning self. Even if it’s just to gauge your message. 

I just so happened to join a small group of poets who are immensely talented. Yes, me quirky Jessica trying to be a little more social and confidently goal driven. 

(Fun fact, if you don’t know what to say during certain moments and conversations, it may be best to sit still, and every moment isn’t the moment to act. )

This group has been sharing poetry prompts and inspirational chats  in a way to keep us all motivated to keep writing during national poetry month.

Disclaimer, I kind of sort of always correlate my hometown with negative experiences, as if there’s not one positive to good ole Winston-Salem, North Carolina. 

Any location is what you make it, I’ve learned, because I have run from state to state habitually instead of facing my problems. 

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a journalist.  I wanted to write about social causes and feed my humanitarian spirit. It was just something that I knew since age 11. I always knew I was a writer.

I want to pay homage to this group and to the immense talent that I’ve seen within it. Naturally, after several odd and impulsive regurgitations of blabbering messages and a few moments of “unsending,” I felt the need to revisit the topic of things I love about my hometown. Rather than allow a forced and reckless ego driven spew of “wanna be gangster chick,” or whatever that was… I actually do have some good things to say.

James White , my late paternal grandfather

Stingy old man?

Living in the south but occasionally questioning motives of church offerings 

Collections of cars

Rings on each finger

Wads of cash secured by rubber bands.

School bells rings. “I wonder what Papa is driving today.”

It wasn’t so much a flashy one but rather a deeper message:

Work hard.


Honor roll. 




Papa’s proud.


McDonalds. Chicken nuggets. With the dark meat, too.

Sweet & sour sauce.

Dr. Pepper.


Better make sure they’re fresh.

Speak up for what you want.


Lectures about jail, drugs, boys, but what young teen retains all that!!? Warnings of what takes place at wild parties. Eh, I was already doing the worst. 

North Carolina School of the Arts – 

Dressing rooms. 


Beautiful campus, worlds of art.

Seed. Seed.

And then we went from house to house and I saw him cleaning, scrubbing, telling me the value of work ethic.

“Are these all his houses?”


Stubborn old man, refusing to walk with a cane. 

Save money. 


But look at what you can instantly get with it!

Shallow absorption.

I joined the Navy, just like him,

But what a wonder it would have been if I simply understood

Why he taught me to hide a little money in my socks, and tell no one about it.

How the first week of National Poetry Month went – Enjoy this selection of poems!

Here I have some pieces that I created to kick off National Poetry month. Some of these poems were inspired by prompts created by well known poets and poetry organizations from Instagram in which I will ensure to give credit to and mention upon their permission and discretion. I will also return to this blog post to update any information as needed.

This post serves not only to keep poetry inspiration thriving but as a reminder to myself of why I am still on my current path.

“All my life I had to write…”

Quite a few of these I have yet to title. Enjoy, and as always, thank you for viewing.

“A North Carolina Spring – in 2023”

(Video below, before poem)

Video for “A North Carolina Spring – in 2023”

Me and my friends,

I see we been through enough fire.

We rewriting stories

Full of intention and desire.

This world is full of f****d up people.

But – if you look hard enough,

Perhaps give a squinter or two,

If you pay attention to the inner,

Perhaps even the little you,

When you stomach a few minutes of the news,

A lot of scary sh*t is happening.

But – when you take a walk on a sunny day

Just before high temps hit

In the very indecisive weather of a North Carolina spring,

And you catch a nice gust of wind

On a deep inhale,

Taking a moment

With absolutely nowhere to rush off to,

No busy agenda, no deadline,

No expectation to meet,

No woes to cast,

No ex to ruminate about…


No validation seeking,

Cuz didn’t they see that post I made? Why didn’t anyone like it? How many views do I have on that?


This world is full of people.

A lot is happening.

The pace is fast.

Me and my friends,

I see we been through enough fire

To blossom into a phoenix,

Rebirth of perspective.

We wear 2023 with tension, disappointment, and uncertainty.

We have been tired for years, some for decades, seeing the pursuit no longer include happiness.

We want life.

Do we want life?

May we stop passing down


Whether it’s fear of success

Or a phobia of bees,

May we stop passing down

Negative responses to uncertainty.

Me and my friends,

I see we been through enough fire

To fill our steps with faith in God,

Knowing we don’t have to be perfect at this,

Knowing that at times it looks a little odd.

Gotta stop passing down inconsistency and self doubt,

Me and my friends,

I think we figured it out.

Me and my friends,

I see we been through enough fire,

We gunna enjoy the journey

And you can come along and vibe too,

We tend to forget that happiness is first internal.

Happiness begins with you.

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