Suffocating: A Poem by Mike Cole

I took a breath to feel if I was alive

My life was mine to survive

It would easy to make this rhyme, all the way through.

But life is imperfect, just like you.

A broken smile, a glance at the wall.

You stand and yet you fall.

Where is your glory, where is your name.

What is to happen, when you play this game.

Tomorrow shines a new dawn,

And come tomorrow you’ll be gone.


So it is once again national poetry month and I’m ready. As I have done for a few years now, this is where I go through my poetry and analyze it myself. What I write and why I wrote it. This year, I am fairly exhausted as I execute my big plans. With poetry, a lot of it is a reflection into the soul. These next couple months are mostly about survival. Whatever it takes to get where I need to be. The first couplet reflects this. Often I like to make imperfect rhymes to reflect broken poems, this time however, I didn’t. It is simply a series of couplets with matching rhymes throughout. The poem itself is a reflection of dreams and how life doesn’t meet expectations. And with the last couplet, I reference leaving it all behind. It’s a line that’s hopeful yet cautious. While some of my poetry is a mix between life and fantasy, this poem follows more closely to where I am currently at. Leaving my hometown is in reach but getting there has taken many years of planning. It will require paying my debts and venturing deep into uncharted territory, a scary prospect for any soul, so the name is accurate. It feels like I’m out of breath as I make cash, plan housing, work on my skillset, and ultimately, a new life.

And… That’s it! That’s the poem and some of the logic that went into writing it. This national poetry month is about to ramp up. Get ready for a few more poems and a month of celebrating the art. As always, thanks for reading!

The Lighthouse: A Short Story by Mike Cole

He had reached this shore many times before. The waves crashed against the rocks as the fa├žade of the lighthouse came into view. Faded were the once bright colors, the bricks long since crumbled on a shore unknown to man. He was trapped and every time he ventured, he eventually wound up back where he started. His memories were beginning to fade and his reality had become a blur. How many years had it been? Ten years? One Hundred? Time had no relevance here. He could see every reality play out, timelines that were no longer his own. When the rift had opened up, he had thought nothing of it. A glitch in the matrix, a blip in time and space. He thought he could make it back but the further he ventured, the more the route changed and the more it stayed the same; twisting and turning as if a machination of his own imagination. For every step forward, a step backwards. It was always the Damn lighthouse. A shelter in the storm and now a prison. He would always end up back here. He could be gone years, live a life and travel as far as his body would take him, but eventually, he would find himself back.

The light had not shone in years. But every so often it would begin to flicker and come whirring back to life, focusing its beam on some unseen shore in the darkness. And every time he would follow the light. Sometimes through storms, other times dead stillness. The waters were always an inky black. Heaven or Hell, he could not tell, more of an in-between if anything; purgatory, if you will. At first, reality jumping had been fun, living a different life from his own. He could see how his life would have played out, if he had only made different choices. In one he had a family, found love early on and kept it. The other he was a CEO, another a treasure hunter. Each a piece of him and each uniquely different. There was no life in this Ocean as far as he could tell, only darkness. Funny, considering the rifts he jumped through. He was getting closer to the rift and he wondered what he’d find this time around. Would spiders crawl out of it? Would he feel the splash of water? Rats? Anything was possible when traveling through the rift. He felt something brush up against the boat. A moment later, he capsized.

Dad: A poem by Mike Cole

I hope you’re proud of all that I’ve done

It hasn’t been easy, this road that I’m on

And I keep walking, hoping the snow will clear

A ship without a sail, no rudder to steer

It’s been two years since you’ve been gone and that’s not a lot of time

Yet I persevere in the new winds and know you guide me to calmer shores.


To wrap up National Poetry Month, I wanted to close with a poem about my dad. I did this last year and it only seems fitting that I do it again this year. For those that don’t know, he passed away in October 2019. I haven’t talked about it much since his death and poetry to me has always been a form of expression, a way to put to words topics that have been too difficult to talk about. As we head into Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to open up more and talk about his death as I think it’ll help heal the soul.

My father was a sailor for my entire life so with poems about him I want to capture that essence. There’s a lot I could have learned about sailing from him but it’s only been since his passing that I’ve found interest in it. Writing about it is a way to feel close to what has been lost.


That’s it! National Poetry Month is officially over (on this blog). We covered Nature, Love, and Lost this month. The Month of May is dedicated to Mental Health. The articles have been drafted and I’m adding the finishing touches. It’ll be a range of topics and I think I’ve struck a good balance for next month. See you then!

Bright as Day: a poem by Mike Cole

You are as bright as day

Like a Morning Glory I rise and bathe in the light

Only to die in the night.

You make me smile,

And it’s been a while.

Like an Aster I hold my bloom,

knowing love is ever fleeting.

And my heart skips a beat, every time we meet.

Everyday is new and the sky is blue.


National Poetry Month! This is the second poem of the month and it is a love poem. It’s been a while and I needed to write something uplifting. This poem is greatly inspired by my birth month with the integration of the flowers of September. The poem itself has no rhyme or reason, much like love. With free verse I love to mix and match styles. ‘Knowing love is ever fleeting’, ‘And my heart skips a beat, every time we meet’. I decided not to match the rhyme. In a perfect world, fleeting would match to meeting or fleet to meet; I like the imperfection, as the rhyme is still there, it just sits on the tongue a moment longer as your brain processes the discrepancy. ‘Everyday is new and the sky is blue’. In most poems, this would cover two lines. Since the line itself was only a few words, I thought it had more flow as one line. ‘You are bright as day’ matches the imperfect rhythm of the poem itself. Day has no matching rhyme yet is carried forward by the imagery created by lines two and three. Day relates to light and contrasts with night. “Like an Aster I hold my bloom’. This describes a longing and Asters represent love, wisdom, and faith. The line is saying to hold faith.


And that’s it! Hope everyone is enjoying National Poetry Month as much as I enjoy writing poetry. There will be one more poem this month and then in May we will delve into mental health awareness month!

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