A Bit of HOPE

With so many prompts, you’d think it would be easy for me to write something halfway decent. However, even though I do keep writing (I’ll be doing that as long as I breathe), it is hard to summon the motivation sometimes to really focus on writing or responding to a specific prompt, even if I want to. By the end of the week, I tend to feel somewhat harried as I keep wanting to respond to ALL THE THINGS and the “to-write” list keeps building up. For instance, DVerse has 2 prompts open, from yesterday and today… FOWC has a challenge today that I actually fulfilled just now (see the link above). Continue reading

I Am Beside

Found while looking for a different poem in my Depression folder. I decided to post an old poem because I did not get any particular inspiration from prompts today (at least not yet, but maybe in the next 4 hours). The good news is: I am not currently beside myself. 🙂

I am beside myself.
Wish I’d died
Last time
Or the crisis before this,
How many rhymes
Until I exorcise
The voice inside
Which writes my epitaph
And the end of this story?

Will you read?

Abide with me, and sing
One comforting hymn.

Where’s the rest of it?

Today, our SoCS prompt from Linda is “rest.”

My mind won’t seem to rest. I have so many poetry ideas but don’t get far on any of them maybe 2 or 3 lines). I did write a tanka this morning, but now it’s almost 2 p.m. here, and I haven’t written anything else. Hopefully I will be able to work on (ideally, finish) the rest of my ideas, but there are at least 10 of them.

Here’s the tanka that I wrote. It doesn’t have anything to do with the SoCS prompt, but this post needs a poem so that it is more than a little rant. 🙂

Continue reading


SoCS: Page. This prompt is very appropriate for a writer. 7 lines in, my stream-of-consciousness dried up, so I had to force my way through the rest of this “poem.” I’m like, “What does tomorrow promise??” haha

Two pages left in my current journal,
Looking forward to beginning another
Beautiful book, hoping for many more
Beautiful days, knowing that this one
Will not have the last word.

The voice of tomorrow is heard
And it promises goodness, it promises
Dew in the early morning, notes inked
Onto a musical staff — opportunities
For melodies and laughter.

Why I Write in a Daily Journal

Today’s JusJoJan prompt is “Journal,” and the décima challenge is to use “Hush” in one of the A rhyme lines. Writing Wednesday: Letter. FOWC: Variation. MVB: Stolen. I’m really glad to have been able to finish and share this one because I have been really tired today.

The crazy thoughts begin to hush —
Those variations of the day
That I hope my prayers will allay,
Once the words can to paper rush.

The tension melts like snow to slush
With every letter on the lines,
Pain freed from the body’s confines.
Some stolen peace is then restored
With honesty and feelings poured —
Reflected in tears, the sun shines.

Just Jotting

The word for JusJoJan day 18 is “cycle.”  I wrote a haiku about the moon yesterday using that word. The word “cycle” makes me think of my emotions and how #%@&ed up I am, but I guess it could also refer to cycling, like on a bike. That reminds me of driving because people try to reassure me that I can learn to drive; they say, “It’s kind of like learning to ride a bike” because once you know, you don’t really forget. In my case, it really is like learning to ride a bike because I never learned to ride a bike either! XD

I didn’t intend to ramble so much. I was going to share a poem. Yesterday I only wrote 2 poems (which is disconcertingly low for me; I usually write 4 or 5, if not more!), but today I have written more than that and intend to keep writing if I don’t just go to sleep really early.

The poem I am going to share is one that took me 3 days to write, even though it’s only 6 lines long. Sometimes I feel like I make God look bad, but trust me: I would be even more messed-up without Him, and He has blessed me with lots of friends (and blog readers! 🙂 ) who like me! 😀

God plumbs the depths and penetrates the heart:
He made them all and cares for every one,
He made the Earth and all that it contains,
The moon to mark the months; for days, the sun.
How He can make a broken life restart,
And give new meaning to each of our pains!

In the back of my mind…

In the beginning of our stream-of-consciousness Saturday post, we must have the words “In the…” What comes after that? I’m not sure. It’s past dinnertime, and I still haven’t written any poems at all today. Well, 2 lines of an acrostic, and 1.5 lines of another poem (not sure what form it will be).

In the back of my mind,
There is probably something
I still have left to say —
Something which one day
Was buried, yet buried alive.
Maybe that’s why
Anxiety won’t quite leave me,
Why it lives in my body —
It has more to say.

I was hoping to not write about anxiety / problems, but that’s what came out. At least I have actually written a whole poem today, finally.

A Poem on December 30th

This is a timely week for Brian’s current prompt, Past and Present. I don’t really want to think about the new year. It’s making me sad and all sorts of things. You could say I am experiencing sundry emotions, most of them not very pleasant. I’m not sure if this thing is done, but it is what it is right now.

Past depressions
Come back up to level paths,
But the lesson
I’ve been learning most is that
Level paths fall down again,
Even to the present,
Likely to the future too.

The beginning
Of another end has come;
I’m not wanting
Its days, hollow hopes unwelcome.

Inside the Eye

It has been hard for me to come up with poems during the last 2 days, especially halfway-good ones, but I wanted to post a poem today, having skipped it yesterday. Even when all of my poems are bad, they are fun to write because, especially if I am writing in a specific form, it is like playing with words. 🙂 Here’s one poem that I managed to finish last night. It happens to use the word for FOWC from a couple of days ago (stupendous!).

I’ve hardly written anything today:
Ideas swirl, but none solidify.
It’s difficult to figure what to say.
Ideas aren’t stupendous; don’t know why.
Yet realizing this, I start to try.
Some lines take shape in this stanzaic form,
Like a calm eye inside a frantic storm.

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