I'm glad I loved you while I could,
Although you weren't long mine to hold,
Spring rain to sun to winter-cold
In May, with much more left to say.
Although you will not hear it all
I'm glad to've loved you while I could,
And tears do not mean bitterness
Except unto myself, my dear.
To have inspired such poetry
Is quite a feat, and much of it.
I'm glad I loved you while I could,
Even if you deserved it not.
I thought you always would be there
Mon Cher, how foolish and naive
I should have known. Although I grieve
I'm glad I loved you while I could.
For DVerse, we are writing quaterns, a French poetry form. I am also linking to Thursday Inspiration, since the theme is hold. Comments are appreciated. I know I didn’t put a lot of imagery in this, but I’ve just got to write my feelings, or I might literally die.
Fandango’s response to Jim Adams’s Thursday Inspiration prompt used the above picture, and it punched me in the gut. That inspired me to immediately post the following poem, which I did not write today but did write yesterday. I am much more than moderately sad but am actually doing better than the last few days. Sharing with DVerse OLN this week.
Did you truly love me,
Or did you just love
How I made you feel?
I found out through tears
That I truly love you,
Irrespective of your answer.
I am a broken shell
Missing the sounds
Of the ocean
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. 🙂
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.
Today’s poem, for NaPoWriMo day 24, is a Chaucerian stanza.
I’m losing you, and you won’t tell me why: I know there is a distance now between The two of us, and have already cried Agony out my eyes. Reason unseen, I have to guess at what reticence means. Won’t you give me a dose of honesty, The better for the both of us to see?
I will never throw in the towel when it comes to writing. I may not blog every day (despite wanting to participate daily in JusJoJan), but I write every day, both poetry and in a journal. Also, at this point, I will never throw in the towel when it comes to praying the rosary, as I have done so every day for probably 6 years (thanks be to God). It seems more likely that I will throw in the towel on all of life before stopping those 2 things! Nevermind that giving up on life does sometimes seem likely….but that is a whole other topic!
I am never giving up: Standing in the storm, Underneath is solid rock, Something keeps me warm.
Throwing in the towel is no Option now for me, I’ll use it to dry my tears When sun comes to me.
(Just realized I rhymed “me” with “me” — that’s stream-of-consciousness writing for you)
For DVerse’s Quadrille Monday, we are to write a poem of 44 words containing the word “ice.” I couldn’t help dipping my poetic pen-paintbrush into some dark paints. Not sure if it’s good, but it’s the best thing I’ve written all week.
She tries to ward off his advances,
Feeling helpless as a daisy in a snowstorm
As his icy fingers chillingly caress
Her hair as if it were pure-white petals,
Before he rips them, callously as if limb-from-limb.
Her tears are the dewdrops of mo(u)ring.
I am both happy and sad, Bored out of my mind and excited: Writing makes me come alive And explore this constellation of emotions, Hoping that in the darkness that is Sure to come this year, I can see the stars and connect the dots To recognize a bigger picture.