Affliction

For One-Liner Wednesday, I have a Bible verse and a poem to go with it.

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Every tear
Is agony when love
Is unrequited, turns one-sided.

Every tear 
Is grief for what could be,
Is pain that the happiness has passed.

Every tear
Is worth its weight in gold,
Because suffering is not wasted.

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For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:17-18 (NRSVCE)

Tsunami Stuck Inside

Just some anxiety tonight… written for FOWC: Tsunami because I thought it would be better to post than not.

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A tsunami of feelings
Is trapped inside of me,
Too big for this body.

It pushes against
The inside of my skin --
Pressure from the water within.

There is too much truth
Getting ready to show itself,
Even if no one wants to know.

Three Words

I love you
More than words can say;
I want to try reminding
You each day, each short phrase repeating
Has meaning.

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Unexpectedly, I actually checked prompts today and read some blog posts from fellow writers. Sorry that I have been so remiss with that during the past month! They did inspire a poem, but I am still working on it, so here is a type of cinquain for now. Cinquains and other forms of syllabic poetry are prominent in my repertoire, and I write them in my notebook just about every day. 🙂

I’m Losing You, part 2

I was going to post this yesterday but then didn’t, so — voilà! Now it’s for NaPoWriMo day 27. When I come up with a good line, I like to repurpose it in several different poetry forms, so I took the first line of my recent Chaucerian stanza and turned it into (I think) an ottava rima.

Also, as of today, the situation to which these poems have referred is pretty much resolved. I’m feeling much better about it. Nevertheless, I’m sharing this ottava rima because I’m rather proud of it. 🙂

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I'm losing you, and you won't tell me why,
Do you not feel the distance now between
The two of us? Do you not care? I cry
Because to me the reasons are unseen,
Will you not help? I am not satisfied
With silences and wond'ring what they mean.
Words that you might express would hurt much less
Than Limbo here, alone in my distress.

SoCS: Scene

I wrote this today for SoCS: Scene. Better late than never. 🙂

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I am not an actress,
Perfectly memorizing my lines,
And I certainly can't set
Every ideal scene --

Please accept imperfection,
Do not reject me for anxieties,
I will do the same for you
And we can write a grand story.

A Timely Triolet

I wrote this triolet yesterday, but as it still applies, I am sharing it today, for NaPoWriMo day 17.

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Once again did not drive today,
How long will it take me to learn?
Need to practice, do more than pray.
Once again did not drive today,
A novice will I always stay,
A license will I never earn?
Once again did not drive today,
How long will it take me to learn?

Photo by Bruno Ticianelli on Pexels.com

Missing Ingredient

Inspired by MVB: Soda.

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If only my mood
Could rise like
Baking soda,
I could make
Something yummy
Out of the ingredients
Of this life.

But my flour
Rebelled
Against being
In the oven:
I'd give anything
To be made of
Different stuff.

Practicing Patience

For Ronovan Writes’s sijo prompt. Our theme is patience. Maybe next week’s theme will be “discouragement.” I’ve certainly been feeling a lot of that. Depression is a [expletive], dear readers.

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Wanting a different life, unable to reach it right now,
Trying to take the right steps, yet tired of trying with no success,
I must believe that one day it will come — that this is not the end.

A Kindred Spirit

I wrote a cherita for FOWC: Hinder, MVB: Melancholy, and MLMM’s Sunday Confessionals. It’s not about a yearning from that long ago, not specifically, but on a deeper level I guess it is about the longing for hope and being deeply loved.

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Your melancholy nature does not hinder you from laughing,

From leaning over wheezing from so much merriment; and
My melancholy nature does not hinder me from finding

So much hope in the mere presence of such a man -- When
Our eyes meet it is as two hearts are beating in unison; come,
Help me find the words to songs heretofore unsung.

help

I spoke too soon about the depression. I got triggered by my friend not being there and not being able to het a hold of them, so now I feel suicidal again. It’s a fragile, fragile thing. God likes to make things go to shit the minute I start celebrating.

It’s barely 7:30, but I want to go to bed because I don’t want to be awake. But I keep on crying my eyes out.