NaNoWriMo – ‘Envy’

I wanted to write more today, but work was exhausting. Luckily, I’ve got a three day weekend – at the cost of a single day off next week. We’ve got to prepare for the holidays at work and next week is when things start to really pick up. I’m going to try and catch up with my writing over the next three days. I’m roughly 10,000 words behind – though 50,000 isn’t my true goal, it is a nice number to aim for.

Today’s poem is.. fun. Personally, it’s hard to recognize when I’m envious. I always just end up thinking I dislike a person and not figuring out why until much later. I’m glad I can catch it – because I know it’s not something essential to whomever I’m envious of, I don’t enjoy disliking people for no good reason.

 

‘Envy’

You’re everything I want to be-
I’m growing envy, green envy, thorns
On a rose bush of admiration warding me
Away. I’ve only to see you to feel nervousness,
Dark and meek, depression rooting in.
I’m lacking in everything I promised myself
When I dreamed of what I’d grow to be,
Yet haven’t, I haven’t even come close.

I’m a disappointment, I see it, you see it-
So talk all harsh and cruel to me, show me
What an endless disappointment I am
At all these attempts I make to play pretend.
I’m strong and helpless, looking shallowly
For anyone’s sweet attention to spend.
Hate me and let me know it,
Make me face the facts that I bend.

I’m tired, and you’re bored of it.
Envy, it’s envy that makes me this way
How subtly in control of everything you know
You want and accept you want, while I juggle
These groundless and inconsistent feelings.
You’re better for your ability to admit and own up
To the thing that is my shameless, secret sin-
My indecent willingness to play pretend.

 

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here;.

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NaNoWriMo – ‘Two Steps Backwards’

I’m so sorry, I skipped another day. I’ve been getting migraines off and on these last few months and it’s been very exhausting. Today’s wasn’t so bad, and after work and a quick nap I was able to write quite a bit. I’m still very behind on my word count, but at this point I don’t mind. I just want to finish all the fragments of poems I’ve got sitting around before it’s 2018.
Anyway, onward today’s poem. I know I said I was going to try to pull out some more upbeat stuff, but well, that’s easier said than done. I hope you all enjoy this one regardless!

 

‘Two Steps Backwards’

I know all too well who I am,
What I look like, how I dress,
My favorite foods, my limitlessness-
That I’ve limited in the name of names.

I’ve got it all down to a schedule,
A time and place I’ve got to be
To be me – what I need to do to meet
My quota to be self-knowing.

Shy, Angry, and fundamentally Organized –
I am driven to not look people in the eyes
Not even myself in the bathroom mirror-
Let the steam fog up so I don’t have to see.

Discordant. Disturbed. Dissociated.
I need to put it in place, any place
Inside of me where it can’t be seen.
I know all too well who I am.

I know also who and what I want to be,
And in the act of self-care I decided
To ignore self-love and chose instead to love
The limited limitlessness I’ve created for me.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here;.

Daily Card Pull – 4 of Cups – ‘Tea Apathy’

It’s been a day. A very, very chaotic day – neither good nor bad, just.. busy. Today’s card of the day was the 4 of Cups, a card warning against apathy, disconnectedness, and contemplating too much on things – an accurate warning for me today.

 

‘Tea Apathy’

Busted knuckles match the pink and red
Flowers floating on the china of my cup-
A nice honeyed cup of lavender and Earl Grey
For when my days become a little too fucked up.

It’s a nice cup, solid but never stays hot enough.
I always forget it to the point of near cold, lukewarm,
With a bitter aftertaste because I left the leaves in to burn,
Again, I left the to burn while I lost myself in another brainstorm.

Look at this cup, arching handle to meet my hand,
Blushes of flowers, stems, and leaves – a life of peace.
I’m going to make it empty, look at me as I make it empty.
Heartbeat to heartbreak, swallowing to smothering.
Watch the time lapse between the tea cooling and souring and me
Sitting apathetic to what’s inside or out, far-eyed and wondering.

 

 

If  you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

Word of the Day – Splenetic – ‘Tuck Me In’

Classes have started back up so work is a little crazy. We got an unexpected 1,300 students for dinner alone these last three days and lets just say the cafeteria’s stock of food is running a bit low.

Today’s Word of the Day is Splenetic, as in something marked by a bad temper, malevolence, or spite.

 

‘Tuck Me In’

Tuck me in bed with all these
Ill formed thoughts and invisible diseases.
My heart can’t take it, I can’t
Take it – It strains me, I am tense,
A kettle steaming and pushing out huffs
Before it begins to scream.

I don’t look sick enough to act this sick,
Though you can hear my legs creak like rusty
Door hinges, a high pitched rumble and screech
Where there’s simply not enough love, apparently,
To oil them into an easy, active life.
If drink a bit more water I’ll be well.

It’s cute, I’m cute, I’ve been told
How my body breaking down under me
Is something for them to protect me from, yet
Their self-projected empathy finds it inconvenient
When they want to go out to play and my body,
My mind can’t go out and play with them.

I’m a broken playground swing, and it’s precious
The memories people imagine and re-imagine of me,
Years ago before it all started to go to hell.
I’m a child indefinitely, except when they want me to be
Something more wholesome and together and.. less sick.
So let’s tuck me in bed, again, and tell me to get well.

 

If you’re bored and like my writing try checking out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here for $8.99.

Word of the Day – Schadenfreude – ‘Bad House-Mate’

Today’s word of the day is schadenfreude, a German word that’s slowly being adopted into English. A schadenfreude is a person who enjoys the troubles others face. It’s like malicious joy. Schaden is the German word for harm or damage, and freude the word for pleasure.

 

‘Bad House-Mate’

It wasn’t that you refused to clean,
You were born, obviously, in a more pristine
Environment than us, the unfortunate
People who’s parents didn’t make enough,
Or raise us right instead of beating us with a belt.

It wasn’t that your rent was turned in late,
Always late and magically never given in full.
We always seemed to make enough to cover your mistakes:
Too much spent shopping, that trip to Miami, dinner
With more important, richer friends at the latest place.

It wasn’t that we always paid for the groceries,
Paid for the Internet, paid for new dishes and silverware,
Furniture we needed, you know so we knew too, we needed
Everything you said would make us seem a little more decent.
What if one of your friends, our friends, were to come over?

It also wasn’t that you demanded we give you respect
Freely, yet for us we needed to prove ourselves first in
Your precious baby blue eyes, whose to say our past doesn’t
Still haunt us – what if we had itchy fingers and a case of laziness.
You always needed to make sure we knew how to work.

Again, it wasn’t that you refuse to listen or learn
Even when you asked to be taught – look, i understand,
Learning to balance a checkbook or load the dishwasher is something
Very unsophisticated, but it needs to be done. The intricate details
Of self-sufficiency are many and hard to remember, I know.

We know, you never considered yourself to be the bad house-mate,
Never locking the door, but proudly boasting that you carried the key.
Money was your security growing up, can’t we see? With that only our
Messes mattered. Only our responsibilities, our downfalls, our less than yours
And less than respectable upbringing. It’s hard to live with us I know.

But it was never necessarily the things you did which pilled up
Piece by piece like the dirty laundry that spread all over your floor.
It wasn’t always the things you did to us when you expected us to do more.
It was the way, and why, and how you chose to live with us like a punishment,
Like a chore unless we did everything for you only to have you demand praise.

 

If you like my writing you should check out my book Moth-Like.! It’s available on Amazon in multiple countries!

Word of the Day – Crucible – ‘Slam Your Door’

Today’s word of the day is crucible, or a sever test. I had a little trouble naming this one, I considered naming it ‘Test of Time and Love’ but it didn’t feel quite right… I might write a poem with that title, but I feel like it would be a little lighter or maybe upbeat.

 

‘Slam Your Door’

I thought it was all a test
Of love, they said give it patience
And more love, I tried, but
I failed.

It was good, while it was good.
You loved words
I loved words.
We talked often enough, but
You think we would’ve talked more,
Enough to avoid this.
There should have been more songs
We could sing happily together.

But in time,
Very little time,
Just a matter of time,
Every doubt I voiced became your anger,
Every disappoint I placed turned into
Another slammed door left behind,
Left in your withering wake.

The house is breaking,
I thought it was all a test of love,
And patience. Everyone said to give it time,
So I gave all my time to waiting and worrying.
I pleaded in silence while you screamed in defiance.
This house, our home now house,
Is breaking apart around us,
The dishes are shaking from the the counters,
To the sink, on to the floor.

You refuse to meet my eyes or speak,
Declared, at some point,
We won’t talk if I can’t be civil.
I’ve become immoral because my love is weak.
Once, I spoke words in doubt towards your actions,
Shameful, I am so shameful you asserted-
Why can’t I ever simple trust
That you know what is for the best of us.

I thought it was suppose to be a test-
But I can’t give it anymore time
Or anymore of my patience and love.
You think we’d love enough to not fight
About the worthiness of my words.
I agree I am weak, forgive me, so please,
Slam your doors, Baby, this house isn’t mine.
Slam your doors, you can now brake
The house completely this time.
Just add what’s left of the dishes
To the floor.

 

Book Update below:

Moth-Like. (the book I’m publishing) is coming along nicely. The eBook format is almost complete and should appear on Amazon sometime next week for about $4, maybe a few cents more. The physical edition of the book might take a little longer as I have to reformat it and then order a few test prints to make sure it looks right. I’m shooting for early August and it’ll be about $6 to $8. There will be no difference between the digital and physical editions other than the typography – having flexible text is really important in eBooks, which limits a lot of what I can do.

Word of the Day – Edacious – “Feed Us”

Back on track! Today’s word of the day is edacious, an adjective meaning to have a huge appetite, or being excessively eager.

“Feed Us”

I am called ravenous,
Lazy, but utterly ravenous.
Nothing fills me, I am deep
Without depth, simple little pleasures
Become simple little snacks, meaninglessness
Fills me briefly before I must feed again.

I am of the generation of ravenous youth,
Eager to excess to feel the flesh
Of peace, simple and filling traditional peace
Between our teeth. When did it not become enough?
I have heard other, older men, say, when did
Settling down with a family, a single lifetime job,
And benefits not become enough?

They do not feed us. They will not feed us,
And so we’ve turned to consuming, by not
Consuming everything once held as ideal and free.
Consuming a country that was originally mixed with liberty-
When was the recipe changed, why was that recipe changed.
I’ve not money to eat with and so I began
To eat money, they say, they say we eat the stability
That our country has fought for. All the stolen oil
And racism were just simple ingredients that are too
Bitter to taste alone, but add flavor. Pointless pain
Is just flavor for those people who have more refined tastes.

I am tired, my generation is tired,
Of the same meal. Two jobs with minimum pay
For the cheapest apartment, a dozen degrees
With no future meaning behind them except years of
Souring debt. It is not filling, and we have become
Ravenous, edacious even for the peace our parents
And grandparents were blessed to feel and be filled by.
Mother always said it’d be best for me to eat my greens,
But says, oh she says when she screams, this isn’t what she means.

There is nothing else to eat, we are beyond hungry
And will not stand to be staved. I want to feel
The bones and flesh of the system which wants to brake
Us:my friends, my strangers, and myself. I want to feel
It snap and tear under my crooked little teeth.

Shadow of May – Day Twenty-Nine – ‘A Short Story, by Me’

Today’s Shadow of May – and it’s not late! Surprise! The question asked was: How can I learn from my mistakes?

‘A Short Story, by Me’

It’s beautiful outside, I’m sure,
But even knowing this I want to deny
My existence towards the world in a childish,
Petty anger. I’m angry – yes, of course,
Truly! Towards myself most of all,
Sure, but I want others to feel it,
The pointlessness.

I’ll hide in my room every hour instead,
Refusing noise and people by rage reading
Every book I previously stacked in awkward areas
About my room in all the nooks, crannies, and corners.
Pointless, it’s pointless – everything! but the words.
It’s beautiful outside, I know, but I made
Some little, shameful mistake, and yes, I know
That the best thing to do would be to leave
And leave my childishness on the shelf.

Shadow of May – Day Twenty-Three – ‘Slowly, Tenderly’

Have I ever mentioned how hard it is for me to name things? Like, I’m terrible at it most days, but today I just couldn’t decide.. But I guess this will work. Today’s Shadow of May asked: What is my hatred to my energy levels?

 

‘Slowly, Tenderly’

I have learned, ever so slowly
To stay tender despite the bitterness
In the many years I’ve lived and seen.
I like believe the most terrible thing I can do
Is spit in their face by refusing to be mean.

Easily, I’ve grown to live and love
All those terribly disruptive emotions
That kinder people would find so distasteful-
All that negativity, the sour and bitter things,
Such as drowning in sadness and feeling hateful.

They’re a part of life, at least half of it, surely.
Emotions so strong and uncomfortable they sit heavily
Inside of you, in your stomach or lungs, on the tongue-
I enjoy them all in my own way, contemplating how it is
That they are there, waiting, but mostly left unsung.

They are so usually unsung, except in hate-
And it’s ironic what we’ll do to those who feel
A little less than human for more than a minute.
Tenderness comes from living painfully and knowing
That we can’t expect everyone to be perfectly absolute.

Shadow of May – Day Twenty – ‘All My Worthless Anger’

Look at this! Not late! Crazy right? I don’t know how it happened but I got it out on time – impressive since I worked all day today and didn’t get home until 10pm! Today’s Shadow of May question asked: What provokes me to anger? Why?. A very loaded question – I try not to get angry often, but when I do I am a thing possessed. Today’s piece took an interesting turn…

‘All My Worthless Anger’

I’ve been angry the day I found out
My dreams had been sold to me taxed twice
At inflated prices and interest drawn high-
Pay while you’re young enough to take a loan
And you’ll pay the price every hour you live.

I’ve been pointlessly angry at the future,
Unable to commit myself to anything, because
Because, I believe I was sold a future that failed-
I bought it under the promise, the idea, the dream
That it would get better in time, things would be fixed,
Things could be fixed.. Band-aids on the bullet holes
This terrible world is being riddled with day after day.

My worthless anger is half anxiety and half grief,
Stirred twice, poured out, mixed again and again
Until it’s more inedible than it was to begin with.
How dare I ever think I could afford to dream?
I am to blame, they taught me at fifteen, I should’ve
Know to invest in something less real and more obscene.
What is decent living, a decent life lived at minimum wage-
The world, where I stand, no longer carries such futile things.