I don’t know what to do with my emotions,
heart racing through my chest!
Can I stop the madness? Should I take a pill (or ten)?
Or is this just one more of life’s tests?

The anxiety rips me to shreds, always wondering
at the end of the day when I’ll break?
Two seconds away from crying or screaming, but still
this might be what life takes…?

Just one more day, one more week – I can do it!
I am trying – and I know I ought!
I’ll get through it – well, everyone else does!
If I could only stop these wretched thoughts!

If I could unwind, unplug – shut down and
let it all be what it is!
Stop painting the sign of the ultimate failure
like fire-engine red on my lips.

But I don’t know what to do with my emotions,
who to turn to, to ask for advice?
When am I past my breaking point? Tell me!
I’m asking you now, really nice.

Never mind me, I’m just venting after a rough few days.


Image from Pinterest

Hurtling earthward,
with a snowball
and a weatherproof
Would an earthworm,
in a snakeskin
at a sideshow
be moonstruck?

Are we caretakers
of the wastelands,
with the newsroom’s
Or just tapeworms
on a moonbeam
in the cavemen’s

When a newsreel
causes uproar,
it will bankroll
the upstart!
Just be careful
of the snowball,
and the weatherproof

I have absolutely no idea where this came from or what it means… I was prompt hunting and stumbled upon Imaginary Garden with Real ToadsGet Listed – the compound word edition, which in turn linked me to this set of lists. The challenge was to use at least three compound words in a poem… At first I could not string two words together (hahaha! Compound words… Get it???), but suddenly I got some sort of rhythm in my brain going, and started throwing words together. This is, with a part jibber-jabber and some seriousness, the result. It will also be my entry to the NaPoWriMo 2016 Gods of Day Six.


by Tomasz

Beneath the Great Dipper,
‘bove highest clouds,
under a sea of stars.
On an Ocean of Tranquility
I sail with my broken heart.

I have no idea why I struggled so with this scribble… The photo, from MLMM by Tomasz, is amazing, and I had so many stories I wanted to tell, but in the end… There was this. I will enter it at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie for the Photo Challenge #107, and it will be my NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 5 offering as well. I hope you enjoyed!


The Cruelest Month

Man with umbrella under a regional rain by Joseph Hancock

Man with umbrella under a regional rain, photograph by Joseph Hancock (all credits to the artist), from Pinterest

The cruelest month
is the month of darkness
no matter what its’ name.

No light will pierce
those heavy clouds
when your soul just writhes in pain.

The cruelest month
you carry with you
inside your mind and heart.

Whether summer, autumn
spring or winter
it’s when your world falls apart.

There is no end to the cruelest month
that a calendar could dictate.
When darkness strikes
that month is the cruelest –
regardless of season or date.

When I saw today’s (optional) prompt on NaPoWriMo 2016– Day Four (the cruelest month), I knew I had to write this – and pair it with this particular photo (which I found on Pinterest and take no credit for). I could literally write a thousand poems and a million words on the topic of mental health, depression and bipolarity (and I probably have and will), and although I could be more eloquent this is what bubbled up to the surface today, I will offer it up as my entry to the NaPoWriMo Gods.


The Young Medusa


Image from Magpie Tales


I saw her on the busy street
a warrior of the new era.
Picture perfect pretty,
clearly at the forefront of all that is new.

Her deer-like eyes
so perfectly innocent!
Stunning in every single way.

Before her freshness and beauty
I froze in time,
turned to stone,
stopped to admire.

Hey, bitch! What are you staring at?
she shouted with a sneer,
and flipped me the bird…

If I’m going to keep up with NaPoWriMo 2016 while working (as I now finally am able to), I need to stay ahead of the game. This is for Magpie Tales, and Mag 311 – and something I’m clearly out of my depth writing (more street poetry than rhyme and meter). Hope it makes sense, and if I do have a chance I will also write to prompt for day 4 later (since I liked the prompt).



We speak with empty words,
in rare moments of silence.
Endless is our dance,
as we 
feed our muted souls.
Laying claim to knowledge,
we blindly witness the decay.
with grace,
Lady Justice looks away.

That is the root of madness,
in this inauspicious peace.
So brief our focus,
as we gorge, on bended knees.
Drowning in erotics,
while we stitch with threads of clay.
with grace,
Lady Justice looks away.

This is for NaPoWriMo 2016, Day 3 with the Wordle 245 prompt from the Sunday Whirl. I was really hoping to get it down to 55 words for The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads‘ prompt as well, but once I got to the end and felt the cadence was right, I couldn’t get myself to cut… I haven’t done a wordle in a very long time, but it was just as much fun as I remembered. Hope you enjoyed!