Plans made;
Plans foiled.
Disaster;
Disappointment.
My skin burns, but still
I am cold at the core.
Failure.
Fuck.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Day 19: Writing
Staring at a blank page
The pages before: filled
With emotion; observation; reflection.
Taunting. Mocking.
Evidence of more creative days
Each full page asking,
"Why can't you write today?
Have you run out of mojo?"
The pages before: filled
With emotion; observation; reflection.
Taunting. Mocking.
Evidence of more creative days
Each full page asking,
"Why can't you write today?
Have you run out of mojo?"
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Day 18: Connectedness
Panic
Pure and utter.
Embarrassment
Entirely encompassing.
Terror
Thought inhibiting.
All it takes is 1 person-
-One-
-To turn it all around;
To be the shining example
Of the humanity left in the world;
To prove
Our connectedness.
To this one person
We are deeply grateful.
Pure and utter.
Embarrassment
Entirely encompassing.
Terror
Thought inhibiting.
All it takes is 1 person-
-One-
-To turn it all around;
To be the shining example
Of the humanity left in the world;
To prove
Our connectedness.
To this one person
We are deeply grateful.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Day 17: Remembered
The same to all
Or a special one to each?
Would you, floating above your loved ones,
Rather hear many, "She was XYZ"s?
Or would you prefer, "To some she was X. To me she was the bees knees."?
I think I'd prefer the latter. Gives me more leeway to be
Remembered positively.
Just a thought.
Or a special one to each?
Would you, floating above your loved ones,
Rather hear many, "She was XYZ"s?
Or would you prefer, "To some she was X. To me she was the bees knees."?
I think I'd prefer the latter. Gives me more leeway to be
Remembered positively.
Just a thought.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Day 16: Nature vs. Nurture
What is in our nature?
Who makes that call?
Are they ever right? (Would we know?)
Biggest question: Can we change it?
Our own or another's: can we change it?
Can it be in someone's nature
To thrive under pressure? (Sure, you say)
How about... not listening? (Uh...)
Is that an inherent personality trait?
Or something that can be hammered out... figuratively.
Or literally.
Who makes that call?
Are they ever right? (Would we know?)
Biggest question: Can we change it?
Our own or another's: can we change it?
Can it be in someone's nature
To thrive under pressure? (Sure, you say)
How about... not listening? (Uh...)
Is that an inherent personality trait?
Or something that can be hammered out... figuratively.
Or literally.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Day 15: Tired
1, 2, 3, 4, all before 8am
5, 6, 7, a few more times before I leave
8, 9, 10, even at work before I've started working.
All throughout the day.
Online; offline
Awake; in my dreams and in your eyes.
Voluntarily; incidentally; in passing; out of necessity
I am tired of looking at my face.
5, 6, 7, a few more times before I leave
8, 9, 10, even at work before I've started working.
All throughout the day.
Online; offline
Awake; in my dreams and in your eyes.
Voluntarily; incidentally; in passing; out of necessity
I am tired of looking at my face.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Day 14: Okay
It's okay to care.
It's okay, I promise.
Don't get all wrapped up in it
But there is nothing wrong, is there
With a person who values others' opinions?
So long as you recognize
Their say is not the be-all and end-all of...
Anything.
That it won't ruin your life; it can't.
It's okay to care what people think.
It's okay to feel.
Don't let it disable you from rational thought or anything.
But there's nothing wrong with letting your blood boil
Every once in a while.
It's okay to feel anger.
I promise.
It's okay, I promise.
Don't get all wrapped up in it
But there is nothing wrong, is there
With a person who values others' opinions?
So long as you recognize
Their say is not the be-all and end-all of...
Anything.
That it won't ruin your life; it can't.
It's okay to care what people think.
It's okay to feel.
Don't let it disable you from rational thought or anything.
But there's nothing wrong with letting your blood boil
Every once in a while.
It's okay to feel anger.
I promise.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Day 12: The Iron Veil
Misgivings and misinterpretations.
False securities and misinformation.
Results of a veil made of the heaviest, most opaque
Iron.
Voluntarily shielding us from the truth.
Walking around with blinders
That we adorn with the latest bling;
Our favourite pancha pancha;
Our pieces of flare.
We choose the blindfold 9.5 times out of 10.
We are born without it, but
Are given infinite chances to appropriate it
To ourselves. To attach it to our identities
And we choose it, because it offers us
Convenience. It provides ease and comfort.
With this veil, this, the heaviest of accessories, I am not burdened with the
Hassle of thought. I am not hassled with the
Annoying, ever-present buzz in my ear
Telling me of the need for
Conscious action.
With this veil, I upon thee tread.
Oblivious to your plight, my plight.
Willingly unaware of the
Hell
I am creating for
Myself.
With this veil, I thee wed.
False securities and misinformation.
Results of a veil made of the heaviest, most opaque
Iron.
Voluntarily shielding us from the truth.
Walking around with blinders
That we adorn with the latest bling;
Our favourite pancha pancha;
Our pieces of flare.
We choose the blindfold 9.5 times out of 10.
We are born without it, but
Are given infinite chances to appropriate it
To ourselves. To attach it to our identities
And we choose it, because it offers us
Convenience. It provides ease and comfort.
With this veil, this, the heaviest of accessories, I am not burdened with the
Hassle of thought. I am not hassled with the
Annoying, ever-present buzz in my ear
Telling me of the need for
Conscious action.
With this veil, I upon thee tread.
Oblivious to your plight, my plight.
Willingly unaware of the
Hell
I am creating for
Myself.
With this veil, I thee wed.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Day 11: Coffee
Deep, rich.
Ripples expand from my centre.
Giving off the scent; the aroma
Of strength, earth, vigour.
They enter you as easily as air
And fill your being as completely
As coffee.
Lending you my energy; my essence.
Boosting your already glowing personality,
So that it virtually blinds.
Ripples expand from my centre.
Giving off the scent; the aroma
Of strength, earth, vigour.
They enter you as easily as air
And fill your being as completely
As coffee.
Lending you my energy; my essence.
Boosting your already glowing personality,
So that it virtually blinds.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Day 10: Raw
Raw.
Real, grimy, seedy
Plant it, watch it grow.
Do nothing but water it
And anything you can to let it
Be.
Real, grimy, seedy
Plant it, watch it grow.
Do nothing but water it
And anything you can to let it
Be.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Day 9: Story
Scritch scratch
Crick crack
Let the story begin
*ahem*
But first a proviso
A disclaimer, to
Dis claim; dis own.
Ok, now for the story...
After this brief message
To remind you of something you forgot and don't need.
Now let's get on with our story.
As soon as I have a glass of water
And loosen my vocal chords
me- me- me-
Alright kids, are you ready for our story?
Excellent.
Right after I--
Crick crack
Let the story begin
*ahem*
But first a proviso
A disclaimer, to
Dis claim; dis own.
Ok, now for the story...
After this brief message
To remind you of something you forgot and don't need.
Now let's get on with our story.
As soon as I have a glass of water
And loosen my vocal chords
me- me- me-
Alright kids, are you ready for our story?
Excellent.
Right after I--
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Day 8: In My Own Time
Why not me? Huh? Why not me?
I ask myself.
Watching other people's lives and questioning
Why they got so lucky. How?
Standing with my nose pressed against the glass;
My covetous breath fogging up the store window.
So much so, that I can't see through any more.
And as the fog clears, I catch a glimpse of my reflection.
And myself says to I,
"See, you don't need to worry about me.
You see behind me?
I got a lot. A lot of what THEY do. And don't.
Health, love, talent, beauty,
Clarity."
And for the first time, I open my eyes
And look again through the glass.
And what I see pleases me,
Because it no longer serves as a reminder
Of what I lack,
But instead brings me joy in their happiness
And hope for my own.
So you don't have to worry about me.
I will have what I seek
In my own time.
I ask myself.
Watching other people's lives and questioning
Why they got so lucky. How?
Standing with my nose pressed against the glass;
My covetous breath fogging up the store window.
So much so, that I can't see through any more.
And as the fog clears, I catch a glimpse of my reflection.
And myself says to I,
"See, you don't need to worry about me.
You see behind me?
I got a lot. A lot of what THEY do. And don't.
Health, love, talent, beauty,
Clarity."
And for the first time, I open my eyes
And look again through the glass.
And what I see pleases me,
Because it no longer serves as a reminder
Of what I lack,
But instead brings me joy in their happiness
And hope for my own.
So you don't have to worry about me.
I will have what I seek
In my own time.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Day 7: Check
Make haste.
Quickly. Get on board.
It is the thing
We all do. Get on board.
Follow the herd;
Make no waves.
Sssshh, keep quiet.
Are you afraid?
Good that might just keep you in
Check yourself before you
Wreck. Yourself
Head down; hustle.
Be a step; never the climber.
And smile, while others reach higher heights
On the back of your efforts;
While you remain on level one
While you stay stuck in ground zero
While you sit at the drawing board: blank.
And smile.
Quickly. Get on board.
It is the thing
We all do. Get on board.
Follow the herd;
Make no waves.
Sssshh, keep quiet.
Are you afraid?
Good that might just keep you in
Check yourself before you
Wreck. Yourself
Head down; hustle.
Be a step; never the climber.
And smile, while others reach higher heights
On the back of your efforts;
While you remain on level one
While you stay stuck in ground zero
While you sit at the drawing board: blank.
And smile.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Day 6: Would You Be Friends With You?
The page of a magazine.
Staring up at me.
Pulled off the shelf and added to my less than 10 items
On a whim.
The questions go on and on,
Seemingly light-hearted
At first.
The pen checking off the right options with ease.
Yes, no, maybe when I'm dead, abso-friggin-lutely.
Then it stops. Stumped.
Stuck on question #9.
"Would you be friends with yourself?"
Huh.
Contemplation. The deep kind. Introspection.
I meet myself. We click. Of course.
"So far so good," I say to myself.
Not myself. To me.
Time goes by. Things are going well, but something is starting to feel...
Off.
Then myself starts pulling some straight up, uncool, high school
Bullshit.
Guilt trips; backwards comments; DRAMA.
Snapping back to the magazine page,
The pen hastily checks off,
"No."
Staring up at me.
Pulled off the shelf and added to my less than 10 items
On a whim.
The questions go on and on,
Seemingly light-hearted
At first.
The pen checking off the right options with ease.
Yes, no, maybe when I'm dead, abso-friggin-lutely.
Then it stops. Stumped.
Stuck on question #9.
"Would you be friends with yourself?"
Huh.
Contemplation. The deep kind. Introspection.
I meet myself. We click. Of course.
"So far so good," I say to myself.
Not myself. To me.
Time goes by. Things are going well, but something is starting to feel...
Off.
Then myself starts pulling some straight up, uncool, high school
Bullshit.
Guilt trips; backwards comments; DRAMA.
Snapping back to the magazine page,
The pen hastily checks off,
"No."
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Day 5: Affliction
Do something!
Don't just sit there!
You can't let me suffer this way!!
Don't you see my dying?!
Can't you see it eating at me?!
It is an unbearable condition.
An affliction that I cannot escape.
I. AM. SUFFOCATING. in my own self-pity
And I can see NO. WAY. OUT!
It's KILLING me.
It is ROBBING ME of my life.
Of fulfilment. Of joy.
Or meaning. Of love.
Get me out of this pathetic hole!
I'm trapped in 17,000 ways
And I need HELP!
Don't just sit there!
You can't let me suffer this way!!
Don't you see my dying?!
Can't you see it eating at me?!
It is an unbearable condition.
An affliction that I cannot escape.
I. AM. SUFFOCATING. in my own self-pity
And I can see NO. WAY. OUT!
It's KILLING me.
It is ROBBING ME of my life.
Of fulfilment. Of joy.
Or meaning. Of love.
Get me out of this pathetic hole!
I'm trapped in 17,000 ways
And I need HELP!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Day 4: Endings
What is ending?
It is only a re-beginning.
Mourning is not for the ending,
But for the struggle ahead;
For the left behind;
For the starting over or the waiting to die.
What is beginning?
It is new; it is birth.
Terrifying unknowns;
Thrilling variables;
Unavoidable tribulation;
Veritable transmutation.
What is 'what is'?
It is.
It is only a re-beginning.
Mourning is not for the ending,
But for the struggle ahead;
For the left behind;
For the starting over or the waiting to die.
What is beginning?
It is new; it is birth.
Terrifying unknowns;
Thrilling variables;
Unavoidable tribulation;
Veritable transmutation.
What is 'what is'?
It is.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Day 3; Poem 3
Medicine
A full, round stomach;
A heart full of laughter and joy.
Medicine: potent.
A smile creeping onto my face;
Closing my eyes to fully re-experience the experience.
Therapy: effective
Warm embraces; friendly faces;
Offers of help and gifts to boot.
Happiness: definite.
A full, round stomach;
A heart full of laughter and joy.
Medicine: potent.
A smile creeping onto my face;
Closing my eyes to fully re-experience the experience.
Therapy: effective
Warm embraces; friendly faces;
Offers of help and gifts to boot.
Happiness: definite.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Day 2; Poem 2
The Jumble
Lips pursed; pointed upwards.
Words spit out
Like so much water from a hose.
I look up and see them there.
The letters all in a jumbled pile,
Hovering above my head.
Until I no longer recognize them as mine.
As if I have no control
As if taking a life of their own
The jumbles changes shape
The letters rearrange.
STOP!
I didn't say that!
Except they came from my mouth.
When did they turn into insults; sarcasm; sass?
I could have sworn it started as humour.
What did I just say?
Now everything's ruined,
And I have no one to blame,
But those stupid letters.
Lips pursed; pointed upwards.
Words spit out
Like so much water from a hose.
I look up and see them there.
The letters all in a jumbled pile,
Hovering above my head.
Until I no longer recognize them as mine.
As if I have no control
As if taking a life of their own
The jumbles changes shape
The letters rearrange.
STOP!
I didn't say that!
Except they came from my mouth.
When did they turn into insults; sarcasm; sass?
I could have sworn it started as humour.
What did I just say?
Now everything's ruined,
And I have no one to blame,
But those stupid letters.
Day 1: Poem 1 (Jan. 12)
Snow
Blowing from the trees
Crunching underfoot
Nature's concealer
Hiding the ugly and dull
The snow covers it all.
Spite, envy, greed
Through them all we speed
As if this is normal
Even good.
Good morning.
I can't see you for all the snow you're wearing
Go inside; warm up a bit,
So I can recognize your face.
What's that?
I can't hear you for all the snow in my ears.
You must have said something unpleasant.
I'll let the snow melt a bit
Hopefully by then you'll have changed your tune.
Blowing from the trees
Crunching underfoot
Nature's concealer
Hiding the ugly and dull
The snow covers it all.
Spite, envy, greed
Through them all we speed
As if this is normal
Even good.
Good morning.
I can't see you for all the snow you're wearing
Go inside; warm up a bit,
So I can recognize your face.
What's that?
I can't hear you for all the snow in my ears.
You must have said something unpleasant.
I'll let the snow melt a bit
Hopefully by then you'll have changed your tune.
100 Poems: 100 Days THE CHALLENGE
A friend of mine sent out one of those "2010 In Review" e-mails recapping his progress and changes and activities last year. I think I might do one. But in that review he mentioned having been challenged to write 1 poem a day for 100 days. The challenge wasn't issued to me, but I've decided to take it on anyway! I actually started yesterday. 1 poem per post per day for 100 days. Let's do it!
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