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Archive for the ‘Internal Musings (poetry)’ Category


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.

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feathers

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).

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From Pinterest

From Pinterest

What a fool to play with fools at love
walking into madness, chaos and disaster.
Again, and again, and again…
You’d think I would learn, not to yearn, to let go
of any hope?
But a fool I am, at least in my dreams
where it still seems
that love is.

I always seem to do this at the beginning of NaPoWriMo… Start of writing for one prompt, then look around at other sites and find other prompts that just won’t let me go! Considering (these days) I almost only write for NaPoWriMo, I think I can afford to do more than one poem/day… At least today! So this is for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, where today’s prompt was to be inspired by April Fool’s day – or more specifically ‘fool’.

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We’re on the cusp of summer and spring is painting the trees with its’ special green brush strokes. Fragile and luminescent, a new season with all its’ colours stand before us. Tonight the fires of cleansing will be lit, burning away the sins of a long dark winter. When the ashes cool tomorrow a new generation will feel entitled to the world and a future they won’t think anyone else ever imagined. All hail to the young!

Me? Well, I’m old and tired. In quite a few ways I’m far less than a spent ink cartridge, only filling in half the letters on the page you’ve tried to print. The one you sigh at on a Friday and vow to have replaced by Monday. And I watch the world turning, once again…

Another year gone… Another thirty or so poems exorcised… Another lot of ‘crap, I didn’t get around to reading all of their poems today, will they still read mine?’ or ‘are we all not just going around in one big circle of patting each other on the back…?’. Another few days of ‘no, I can’t write anything today, I have nothing left to give!’ and a few ‘I just have to stop writing now and go to bed… But just one more!’.

The world is green with fresh leaves, with fresh wonders and annoying kids with their sense of entitlement, but the only promise I can make for the upcoming twelve months – as the choirs around the country are singing ‘The winter rushes down from our hillsides’ – is that I’ll try to enjoy the moments I have. And I’ll try to be here again, maybe even before next April?

I’ll try to stay alive. For some of us, that’s really all you can ask.

Hardly a poem, and as it’s not written to prompt I doubt many will read it, but that’s OK. It’s April 30 and the last day of NaPoWriMo 2015. It’s also Walpurgis Night in Sweden, and in about an hour bonfires will be lit to burn winter away in the tradition of spring and drunk teenagers. I have a few regrets over the past month. Poems I didn’t get to read. Poems I read and couldn’t get myself to comment on. Poems I outright didn’t like and the ever-present thought of ‘why can’t people just read what I write because they like it?’. And I shouldn’t have thought that.

I want to thank everyone who’s been around to read and comment over the past month, as well as the websites I’ve used for inspiration, mainly Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Magpie Tales, but also The Sunday Whirligig and of course NaPoWriMo. I don’t know if I’ll be back tomorrow or if I’ll be back next year. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back. But I want to thank all of those people who’ve actually spent time reading my scribbles and commenting. I’m sorry if I haven’t returned all the favours…

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A dash of madness
a smidgeon of hope
mix it carefully
in a bowl.
Two pinches of crazy
three drops of pain
Boil together
and mix it again.
Crush some ups and downs
with some whimsy and wine.
Some fast-food and illusions,
some naughtiness and grime!
Bake in an oven
as hot as you can.
Sprinkle with disorders
and here I am!

Some of this fits, some of it is pure make-believe… In any case, this – very quick – scribble is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and the It’s Not Just About Food challenge. 

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Leonard Nimoy William Shatner Star Trek 1968.JPG
Leonard Nimoy William Shatner Star Trek 1968” by NBC Television
Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.

If all mankind could cry together
united – at last – in grief
and in that moment, although brief,
listen to the voices of others
and hear Mother Nature speak.

We should play together, children of this planet,
and let all differences be heard
and in that moment, change the world
as we realise that we are one
and unity must be the final word.

In our search for love, we stand together
but hatred tears us apart!
We need a universal language – art? –
that speaks to each and every one
directly despite differences in hearts.

If all mankind could cry together
united in global grief
and in that moment, however brief
we see the truth of our actions
as we hear Mother Nature speak.

Trying to find inspiration again after a rough couple of days, this scribble is inspired by Leonard Nimoy’s ‘I am Convinced’ from ‘We Are All Children Searching for Love’ as suggested be the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads prompt today, The Legacies of Nimoy and Pratchett

“I AM CONVINCED

I am convinced
That if all mankind
Could only gather together
In one circle
Arms on each other’s shoulders
And dance, laugh and cry
together
Then much
of the tension and burden
of life
Would fall away
In the knowledge that
We are all children
Needing and wanting
Each other’s
Comfort and
Understanding
We are all children
Searching for love”
― Leonard NimoyWe Are All Children Searching for Love

For more of Leonard Nimoy’s poetry, please follow this link. His last poem is copied below.
Forever in our hearts, forever missed – Live long and prosper!

You and I have Learned

You and I
have learned
The song of love,

and we sing it well

The song is ageless
Passed on

Heart to heart
By those
Who have seen
What we see
And known
What we know
And lovers who have
Sung before
Our love is ours
To have
And
To share

The miracle is this
The more we share…
The more
We have

-by Leonard Nimoy

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Cosmic Galaxy Egg by Andrew Logan (image from Flickr)

Reflecting the sun – needs reflection within
we are merely specks of dust.
Depicting the universe – on computer’s screen
we’re omnipotent with lust!
Too close to see – but who are we
to decipher our universe’s rules?
Reflecting the sun – it will burn you and me
who are only eternity’s fools.

This inspirational prompt at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, What’s Your Vision, asked us to find inspiration in American Visionary Art and used a photo of Andrew Logan’s Cosmic Galaxy Egg as one of many to inspire us. An egg, reflecting the skies, and imitating the galaxies brought out this piece in me. 

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