Losing Track

It’s Quadrille Monday at the DVerse Poets virtual pub! This week’s word is track. Also written for FOWC: Medal.


We always, always kept track of grades,
Mine we always As, 
Except for one B+ 
In an AP Physics class --
That's another thing,
I took six APs --
And in academic decathlon 
I won seven medals.

And what do I have
Left of it now? 

Believe it or not, I did write something happy today, this morning. Maybe I’ll share it later. Maybe I can even try to write a second quadrille. In the meantime, here is my quadrille, based on my dumpster-fire of a life, in which all of my previous achievements have burned to invisible ashes.

The moral of this story is, if you did badly in school, none of it matters anyway!

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

I’d Cease…


I'd cease
To exist, if
God You stopped loving me,
That's what I've heard some people say --
So stop. 

Posting because why not. Sorry about the doom and sadness, but that’s where I’m at. Swings are fun; mood swings are not. I’ve found some happy things but can’t write a happy poem. 

Update: I did write a happy poem tonight.

Good / Evil

I began this poem yesterday for the DVerse Poetics prompt about good and evil and finished it today in order to share with Open-Link Night. It is written almost like an inner dialogue. I wanted to vary the rhymes a little bit more, but I don’t know; maybe the monorhyme for half the poem works.


 

Supposed to think of life as greatest gift,
But tired of trying hard to spirit life.
                                     Come and get a little lost,
                                     In the darkness, high cost.
                                     Come and listen to accusers.
Fight against that voice, that we won’t lose her.
                                      After a rest, the monster
                                      Stirs, peace it defers.
She tries to remember all that life offers.
Photo by Oyster Haus on Pexels.com

Ouch

M-R-S degree:
Not life’s entire attainment
But I can’t help it —
Want someone to share my life,
Someone to accept my love

This tanka was inspired by the wordle below from MLMM. The word “marriage” specifically led to me writing this. The point of a wordle is to use most / all of the words, but I’m still linking up.

A couple of months ago, my bf and I of 15 months broke up, since his mother decided that she didn’t like me, for the sole reason that I have an entry-level job. It has been a really hard process, especially because my ex hardly even stood up and fought for me, even though he was crazy about me and all but proposed. Everyone I’ve spoken to says that A. his mother was way out of line, and B. I deserve better. Sometimes I believe that. In fact, I believed it more in the beginning, to be honest. I even got angry with my now-ex and told him to “grow some balls” — and I usually don’t use that kind of language, especially not to someone’s face!

Today it still hurts so much to be judged in such a way. It has been especially difficult because even if I “deserve better,” where can I find “better;” I don’t know?

What Is Home?

My late response to Stream-of-Consciousness Saturday (on Sunday). The word was “home.” I wrote a sevenling.

When I think of "home," I think of 
Not only having food and water,
And a place to stay and sleep.

Home is a place of mutual unconditional
Love and acceptance, of rest and relaxation.
Of being who you truly are.

And now I feel like an exile.

My life is a snafu, and every week it seems to get more hopeless. At least I posted today, for the first time in 3 days. I was going to hang out in a café and write this weekend, but there weren’t many writing ideas in my brain…

Where does strength come from?

This is a poem I wrote today, which I am sharing with DVerse Open-Link. We are going live today, so I intend to read this aloud. Not sure if I like the ending. It is hard to end poems well, at least hard for me to do so, so I am interested in feedback (and also wanting to use Fandango’s one-word for today 🙂 ).


 

Strength comes from loving.
Strength comes from sitting with others in their sorrows,
Without attempting to convince them of better tomorrows
Just sitting, being a comfort in their crying.

Strength comes from crying.
Being what society says is strong for too long,
Finally admitting that times are terribly trying
Such that it seems a curse just to be living.

Strength comes from living.
Strength comes from loving, sitting, crying, trying.
Photo by Kat Smith on Pexels.com

So Loved

You know that you are so loved —
By whom? Just by God
And my mom?

A cruddy quinzaine poem for MLMM’s Saturday Mix. I’d like to try to write another one, but that’s where my mind’s at. Like, maybe there are 2 other people besides God and my mom (but they didn’t fit in the poem). Overall, people don’t care. Unless you say that you want to die, and even then I don’t think they care, so much as they don’t want to feel like they let someone die.  I don’t really want to die right now; it’s just the depression is horribly symptomatic (and has been for, like, years).

The Devil

Why not share this poem that I literally just wrote, directly into WordPress? Pretty much stream-of-consciousness style, a chain of cinquains.

Around
Six years ago,
The devil absconded
With my ability to hope
For good —
For long.
Gratitude and happiness fly
On thin gossamer wings,
And I try to
Catch them —
Sometimes
Successful yet
They escape from my grasp,
Suddenly there is no meaning
To days.
As days
Pile upon each other without
My full consent, I hope
One day to hope
Fully.

 


I’m glad to write this because, despite having a few ideas today, nothing much was completed. Additionally, as usual, it’s not like today was that bad; I just feel a sense of worthlessness and wishing things could just be done, overall. However, I don’t want to annoy my friends again. Yes, again. Last night I was a nightmare…

Flashback Friday: August 26th

My post today is a poem that’s so old it’s new again: For Fandango’s Flashback Friday, I had a look through the archives on my blog and found this.


For a friend I recently met [in August 2018] yet deeply miss.

“Euphemism”

She has “passed away,” leaving
Unexpected damage in her wake:
Heartache, sadness, even though I believe
She is experiencing peace and gladness.
The human spirit is a hurricane,
Raging, raging, ‘gainst the dying of the light.

 

P.S. The original post only got 2 likes, so let’s give Cindy (RIP) some more likes. 🙂

Anything Good?

Today is the feast of the apostle Saint Bartholomew / Nathaniel, which inspired me to write this haibun:

I sit crying due to unexplained yet expected emotional pain. It’s not a surprise, but there is little I can do to prepare. The only way out is through. The only way through is to believe that some greater good may, through grace, arise from this half-dead and deadly place. “Can these bones live?”* “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”** Faith gives an unequivocal assent, even if one must wait for it.

 

greater things to see:
angels descending, ascending
as the journey goes

   * Ezekiel 37
   ** John 1:45-51

Jesus of Nazareth Meets Nathanael of the Fig Tree - A Sermon on John 1:43-51, Epiphany 2B ...

image found here