Veracity

I hold back

The evidence that would betray me,

For it will bear witness to the truth

Of what’s been done.

 

And even though, perhaps,

The truth might make me stronger,

These fact-bearers would also show the cracks

And scars I carry

hidden away in darkness,

and the things I cannot say,

those agonizing thoughts,

become palpable

and then must needs be dealt with.

 

And I am not ready.

 

So I fight back the attestants,

Those warm, wet, and salty testifiers,

That would willingly tell my story

The moment they fell from my eyes.

 

*Day 4’s NaPoWroMo prompt is to write about sadness in a simple way. Well, I wrote about fighting sadness and losing that battle. And it’s not really in a simple way I suppose but then sadness is rarely simple.

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Thoughts At 4 A.M.

The dog is having a nightmare and whimpers in her sleep

while the other feels lost and alone and unloved because I am

making him sleep in his own bed instead of next to me under the top blanket

where he feels safe and secure and warm.

The cat sleeps on my feet and moves to shove her head into my face

so I’ll pet her because for whatever reason,

 

4 a.m. is the time when

I should be awake to offer them attention.

And then I remember the paperwork I forgot to fill out and turn in to the

school counselor by 8 a.m. so it’s up and to the computer and finish that

-thank heavens for email or then I’d have to stay up-

(except that it’s due by noon and I see that only AFTER I finish filling it out)

and really, I should fill out the other form but what’s the use when I won’t be

approved for the assistance anyway,

 

and besides, it’s not so much to really need help

with paying after all, if only they could wait until mid-month.

Then there’s the bills I’m behind on and how much longer I can

get away with pushing them off until the next payday.

There’s the constant worrying over how my newly graduated son

is going to be able to be on his own when he is still so immature

and needs so many more skills that he refuses to learn.

How bad a parent am I that I haven’t taught him how to survive

…except even I’m struggling so how can I think I could possibly teach him?

 

Then there’s the growing tension between Him and I,

a constant bruise that never goes away. I struggle to not

fall back into a rut and fear that’s where He wants me to be again

while He tries to force me to be what He thinks He wants me to be,

and I can’t be that, and so the tension keeps mounting and I don’t know

how much longer it can go on when He keeps jabbing and poking and pushing

 

and accusing and saying things that aren’t true.

He’s trying to get a reaction,

-because nothing else makes sense and He doesn’t understand why I can’t make Him happy-

-because it’s not me who can do that, it’s Him and he struggles with this concept-

and when He does it makes Him angry and retaliative,

and it’s all just too much.

I’m going to break.

 

Adulting sucks and I don’t know why I was in such a hurry to grow up

when all my life I saw how hard it was in the example my parents set before me.

And no one else is up,

just me

and the noises of a sleeping household:

a whirring fan, an air conditioner hum, sprinklers coming on outside,

 

the hushed breaths of those lucky enough to find sleep

a dear friend who visits every night

while I sit here typing away trying to shut the madness of worry out,

and hoping I can strain enough of these teeming concerns through

a mental sieve

and let my heavy eyelids fall

and shut out the world.

 

*I’m participating in National Poetry Writing Month this year and this is my offering for Day 3’s prompt, which is to write a story or action that takes place over time. I wrote about the thoughts that go through my head during a time when I can’t sleep. 

#NaPoWriMo cheat, bloody CHEAT!

Questionable love

Palindrome
On my own
Try not to cry
Time’s gone by
No longer back-to-back
In poetic attack
Now it’s gone
Four as one
Writing each day
The NaPoWriMo Way
Writing each day
Four as one
Now it’s gone
In poetic attack
No longer back-to-back
Time’s gone by
Try not to cry
On my own
Palindrome

00NaPoWriMo15

So the time is here, when no more our band of merry Musketeers meet daily to share and write and amaze me, and I’m sad – some of the most incredible fun has been had, and now it’s over – a sobering thought.

But I can’t resist ending by bending the rules.

This one’s for Rod and Jesi and Cindy – you guys have made this AMAZING. Thank you so much  ❤

#NaPoWriMo When you have something Precious

You know shes a diamond and shes constantly undersold

Such a Precious wonder that I won’t ever let her go
Even though I know that common sense might tell me so
So fragile of heart, but full of  wonderful fight
Never ready to let you love her
(Though she’ll love you right)

She’s always ready to shout, encourage, cheer
Turning up the music to hide her deafened ears
You could have her for an hour but not to hold
Always verging on eruption
She might lash out and leave you cold

Everything’s gonna be alright
Rockabye, rockabye…

She’ll leave you abandoned in a place that can’t exist
Continue her life as though you’d never be missed
Parading her heart so shiny like fool’s gold
Though you know it’s a diamond
And she’s constantly undersold

She can smash you to pieces but never quite meet your eye
Her armour’s a fiction; it takes so little to make her cry
Somewhere there’s a small scar beneath her mouth
Where the final nail of pain drove in
And the last bit of innocence bled out

Everything’s gonna be alright
Rockabye, rockabye…

If she likes you she’ll make it her pleasure to lift you higher
The heat of her affection makes you the bright guy on top of the fire
But if you try to hold her too long she’ll wriggle away
The brash and the flashy are safer
The still and the small and quiet leave her deadly afraid

She has a hundred facets and many are set to amuse
She’s a hall of mirrors and loves to keep you confused
But if you get beyond the glass and the smoke you’ll see
Her beautiful heart and mind
And how she yearns for safety

Everything’s gonna be alright
Rockabye, rockabye…

If you earn her loyalty she’ll be with you forever
A long-haul friend who’ll let you face life together
Somehow the broken pieces between you fit right in
And you hope that one day you can hold her
Can still her, and tell her that Love wins

Everything’s gonna be alright
Rockabye, rockabye…

Everything’s gonna be alright
Rockabye, rockabye…rockabye.

 

00NaPoWriMo15

Our prompt for today was to write a review. I wanted to, and I kinda did – it’s a review of a friendship which means an awful lot to me, but which is with someone as complex as she is wonderful. Today I was stilled by something, and unable to respond adequately. It’s taken until now to work through that, and I didn’t want to stymie what matters (my response) by adhering too strongly to a prompt. So we’ll call it poetic license and be content.

#NaPoWriMo Bridging the gap

Play with words

ME

Bridging the gap
Gap between worlds
Worlds between wires
Wires hold the words
Words are the bridge
Bridge between hearts
Hearts make the whole
Whole is the start
Start of the group
Group brings us in
In it together
Together we win
Win is the reason
Reason we try
Try to discover
Discover just why
Why we all matter
Matter to you
You are the people
People we choose
Choose to befriend
Befriend and be free
Free to be closer
Closer to me
Me on a journey
Journey in plane
Plane builds a bridge
Bridge is the same
Same in the way
Way we build bonds
Bonds which cross over
Over ‘The Pond’
‘The Pond’ doesn’t matter
Matter what may
May we find right
Right way to play
Play, laugh and cry
Cry out our words
Words are the bridge
Bridge makes us whole

YOU

00NaPoWriMo15

Today’s prompt was simple – a bridge. Of whatever kind.
So I wrote my favourite bridge – the kind which exists
to bring us together – whether it be words or planes
it counts.

#NaPoWriMo Wasteland

No Love Lost

Wasteland
In between
Layers of self

Between
Two worlds
Belonging in neither

Worlds
Torn apart
Lives now incompatible

Apart
New way
Same but different

New
So unwanted
Never the plan

And yea -wanted
I am
Not.

00NaPoWriMo15

Today we had to write a thing which sounds like a sneeze gone wrong (a hay(na)ku (gesundheit!)) which is a tiny poem operating in three lines of one, two and three words. You can do these as stand-alone pieces or link them as part of a longer poem. Well, I needed to write a bit longer than six words, because today Husby left. I’m still processing all the ins and outs, but that’s what came out in the poem.

I give up.

 

#NaPoWriMo The Algea

The rending of our sorrow will be heard  The Algea

We cry our raindrop tears
From sodden, marble lids
Let the wind howl our lament
Let it carry from our midst
Around the world
The rending of our sorrow
Will be heard

Our faces staid in masks
Of long-borne grief
Observe the pain of years
Ne’er destined for relief
From this sharp world
The rending of our sorrow
Must be heard

Our lonely arms
Will ne’er embrace elation
Alabaster; raised
In stony supplication
Yielding to the world
The rending of our sorrow
Shall be heard

Our bodies fixed in anguish;
Dolor carved
We cling forever,
Our misery never halved
By this cruel world
The rending of our sorrow
Needs to be heard

Our heartache on display
Eternally
Algos, Akhos, Lupa;
Grievers, we
Lament this world
The rending of our sorrow
Will e’er be heard

 

00NaPoWriMo15

Our prompt today was to write a persona poem; one a bit more serious than other, recent prompts have elicited, and so, being tired of life and in the kind of mood where sadness is hanging in the edges of the air, I wrote of statues, carved forever into their pain – a public spectacle of misery which would result in congratulation for the sculptor and endless sadness for the statues (were they sentient (not in a freaky in-yer-face, Dr Who-style way, either)).

So I researched to figure out who would like as not be turned into such a piece of artistry and upset, and the Algea appeared in my world – three Greek goddesses whose embodiment was grief, sadness, and mental and physical pain. Learn more about them here.