Day 90 (plus 89)

I confess. I did not write a poem yesterday. I just couldn't. I spent the weekend with my head throbbing, my stomach aching and sleep controlling me. Literally. Somehow, I was able to muster up enough energy to put together some words that vaguely rhymed on Saturday for Day 88. Day 89 would only have been more of the same. That's if I would have been able to focus long enough to actually put pen to paper, or finger pads to key pads.

That all being said. I'm sorry. This was certainly not a choice I made lightly yesterday. I'm not even completely sure it was a choice at all. I didn't want to let anyone down, including myself. But, today is another day. My head is no longer throbbing, my stomach has begun accepting food, and I even went to work today. (Let's not forget the shoveling I had to do before that.)

And, that brings us to Day 90.


Absence

After the anger, fear, dread, anxiety, hunger and sadness
have gone,
all that remains is a
cavernous hole to fill.
Choose the dirt, and
it all rots from the inside out.
Choose the soil, and before too long,
flowers will blossom,
trees will emerge.

Day 88

Spent the day asleep in my bed,
Outside falling rain
Inside thumping brain
Barely able to lift my head.

That's it.
Good night.

Day 87

Each side of the story
spins its own tale
One side up
The other down
One turns left
The other right
The real story exists
Where the diagonals meet.

Day 86

A Pen Divided

Reading your words,
I am touching your soul
I am seeing your spirit
Understanding your pain.

Reading your words,
I am helpless on this side of the pen
I am rooting for you
Encouraging your success.

Reading your words,
I am altering your choices
I am inside your pen
Molding the flow of the letters on paper.

Reading your words,
I am you
I am me
We are one.

Day 85

sleep sleep marvelous sleep
is calling my name
sleep sleep fabulous sleep
is beckoning me
sleep sleep comfortable sleep
is bringing me home
sleep sleep glorious sleep
please don't leave me alone.

Day 84

Ennui



Il est tout jejune
the day the night
the calm the fight
Je suis trés fatigué
the battle within
a stiff upper chin

je ne peux plus faire semblant
to hear to care
to be there
je ne peux pas rire ou pleurer
the joy the pain
the sun the rain

Je ne peux rire ou pleurer.
Je ne peux plus faire semblant.
Je suis trés fatigué.


Il est tout jejune.

Day 83

I confess.
I have not been as dedicated
in the last few days.
The focus has escaped me.
The inspirations have not been there.
Exhaustion
Preoocupation
Distraction
Have taken over.
I will resume.
I must resume.

Day 82

To travel the world and see all the sites
Explore it all, and reach new heights
Try new food that scares you
Adventures that thrill you
Enjoy it all with all of your might.

Day 81

It's another one of those
nothing to say kind of days.
Head is spinning in so many ways.
The time has come for the computer to close.

Day 80

Challenge:
Answer an obvious question with a sincere respond.

How do I open the door?
Well, you grab the know and turn it.
How do I start the car?
Well, you put the key in the ignition and turn it.


It can't be done.
Go ahead and try.

Day 79

Sleep sleep, where art thou sleep?
The show on TV, it should tomorrow keep,
But my eyes, they're still open
And the morning I'm hoping
Will not come 'til later this week.

Day 78

She died.
And I can't do anything about that.
It was is the kind of truth that is impossible to accept.
The sadness
The despair
The self-loathing
The chemical imbalance
The hopelessness.

She died.
And it was so long ago.
It was is the sort of thing that turns you upside down.
Another person
Another lifetime
Another reality.

She died.
And I will never be the same.
It was is the kind of thing that forces you to examine everything.
Who am I
What am I
How am I
Why can't I.

She died.
And I am here.
All these years. All this time. All this life.
Later.
Still trying to accept the impossible.

Day 77

Yes, I am

A liberal.
An independent.
A republican.
A democrat.
A writer.
A veteran.
An artist.
A freedom lover
A believer in helping others.
A believer in personal responsibility.
An individualist.
An athlete.
A lover.
A fighter.
An intellectual.
An idiot.
A patriot.
A separatist.
A unifier.
A singer.
A person.

Yes, I am.

Day 76

For today's entry, I thought I'd dig something up from my archives. I wrote this poem over 10 years ago, but considering that it's St. Patrick's Day, I thought the green theme appropriate.


colors flash and forth
black at once
white again
blue fades in & out
red too often
yellow hardly
but green,
green lingers on
it's needed for life
but resented when shown.
black once again
white fades away
blue sustains
red shines brightly
yellow too often
but green,
green sits on top
green covers all the others
green lingers on.

Day 75

Pretense

The real truth is disgusting.
It's deep down, dark and dirty.
It is hurtful and offensive.
It knows no boundaries
And will strike when woken.
It is vicious and will leave scars that never fade.

The truth beckons to be told.
It yearns to be shared.
It believes it will be embraced and appreciated.
It expects a rebirth out of revelations,
But that will not happen.
It will be denied, ignored and hated for the thought.

The truth sits and waits,
Its ears open with anticipation of opportunity.
It longs to display itself for the world to see,
So it can absorb the energy of the enemies
It doesn't even know it has.

For truth, itself, is in denial.

Day 74

Charge like a bull
                forward against all odds.
Drive toward success
                surpassing all failures.

Day 73

Long week
Late night
Need to sleep
Before daylight

Day 72

The Leaves Won't Stop
 
Should not have logged on to Ancestry.com.
Joined years ago finding family for mom.
She thought she had none,
I found a hundred and one.
Now the hints keep appearing,
My eyes they are a-blearing,
And I've truly only just begun.


:)

Day 71

Another one inspired by the "word of the day" on my dictionary app.
 
Delitescent

They were surprised when the actor danced.
They were in awe when the dancer painted.
They were speechless when the painter sang.
They were astonished when the singer wrote.
They were blown away when the writer sculpted.
They couldn't believe it when the sculptor acted.

Day 70

These are the words that might go here.
They can be shiny and fun and filled with cheer.
They can be happy or mad,
Even tortured and sad.
They come from the heart.
That's right where they start.
Straight through my pen.
And this is the end.

Day 69

(un)Requited

He walked away from it,
Convinced he would not return.
Deep down, it was real this time.
Deep down, he meant it this time.
It had controlled him long enough.
He would not allow it any longer.
Deep down, he feared he was not strong enough.
Deep down, he hated what that meant.
He looked back and saw it
Sitting there, staring back at him,
Looking deep into his eyes,
Looking deep into his soul.
It sat and waited, silently,
Knowing it was only a matter of time,
Looking forward to the future,
Looking forward to the chaos.
He knew what he needed to do;
Walk away and find something else.
Freeing himself from its grasp,
Freeing himself to grab life.
It smiled at him and laughed,
Evoking memories of happy times.
Freeing a piece of itself,
Freeing the tension in the air.
He found himself reluctantly smiling back,
Reminiscing of when it gave him joy,
Bubbling with giddiness like a child,
Bubbling with the anxiety of overwhelming emotions.
It began dancing and twirling,
Charming and cajoling, singing and beckoning,
Bubbling with excitement,
Bubbling with love.
He swayed closer, inch by inch
Giving in to the magnetic pull,
Lost in the moment,
Lost in himself.
It grinned, a twinkle in its eye,
An eyebrow arched in triumph,
Lost in victory,
Lost to the future.
He felt a sharp change in the air
And shook off the trance,
Stopping dead in his tracks,
Stopping the grinning.

It reached out.
He put up his hand.
It taunted and teased.
He pulled away.
It giggled and sang.
He covered his ears.
It screamed and yelled.
He didn't flinch.
It fell silent.
He walked away.

Day 68

A pang of discomfort swells
A flush of distraction overtakes
It begins.

There is no suppressing it
The more I fight,
The more it consumes.

I must leave.
I must break free.
I can no longer play this part.

Day 67

Pushing back the surge of time
With a slash and a flash
Of youth and ideas.

Day 66

(just a beginning, I think)

On the other side of that bridge
lies a beautiful village
Of cobblestone roads,
brick walls,
and wooden doorways
A place where time
seems to have stood still
amidst the hustle and bustle
of the modern world
Where centuries old cemeteries
are nestled behind
gas stations with computerized pumps.

Day 65

The beauty of a freshly fallen snow has long grown old.
Short, crisp days and long, frozen nights have outstayed their welcome.

Day 64

Oblivious

I would give just about anything to be ignorant.
To be naive in this world
To be blind to the pain, the anger, the hatred, the pettiness, the sadness
To forget the hurt
To ignore others' feelings
To believe unquestionably in myself, my choices, my talent, my intellect
To march forward, no holds barred, no reservations.

But only for a moment.

For the deepest satisfaction comes from overcoming those very insecurities.
The greatest victories come from hard earned respect and admiration.

Day 63

...when there are so many thoughts,
they can't be reined in.
...when there are so many opinions, feelings and words,
they can't be formed into something pretty.
...when there are so many pluses and minuses,
instead of negating each other, they create black holes of thought
...where ideas die, thoughts explode into invisible particles and feelings are nothing but nebula.

Day 62

The memories in my heart may not be there forever,
But I promise you,
They are now and forever important to me.

The love in my heart may not stay that same forever,
But I promise you,
It is deep and lasting in my soul.

The joy in my heart may not last forever,
But I promise you,
Each day that passes is better for having felt it.

Day 61

When life hand you lemons, make lemonade.
What happens when it throws the lemons at you?

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
What happens when it hunts you down and violently stabs you in your sleep?

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
What happens when failing makes it impossible for you to try again?

What then?

Day 60

An Instant

For a minute, I thought you loved me.
For a minute, I felt your heart.
In a second, I knew you didn't.
In a second, you broke my heart.
For a lifetime, I'll never forget.
For a lifetime, I'll forever hurt.