NaNoWriMo – ‘Productivity’

A quick little piece today, nothing much really – just some vent words. I hope you all have a good week! I’m making progress with NaNoWriMo, but not as much as I’d like. The next two weeks are going to be really busy for me, so hopefully I don’t get too far behind.

 

‘Productivity’

A productive day,
Waking up at 2pm
To get nothing done.
I’m watching the sun
Slink away, minutes collecting
Into days, transforming into
A month, then season,
Then finally a year.
I’m watching it all pass,
I wanted to do Something,
But the tiredness lasts
Longer than the hours
Spent tossing in bed.
I get up at 2pm,
And do nothing.

 

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

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NaNoWriMo – ‘Mort Per Annum’

I got a little over a thousand words today, not bad considering I was out and about and not at all focused. I was pleasantly surprised with my writing for my stand alone poems, but slacked today on the epic. It was hard to choose which one to post, and in fact I may post one of the other poems I wrote tomorrow because I enjoyed it so much. The finished poems I’ve got are all rather dark in nature, but I hope you enjoy them regardless. Hopefully, I’ll get it out of my system and write some more lighthearted pieces as I go on. I had a hell of a time naming this one, so I did something a little different..

 

‘Mort Per Annum’

It’s about that time of year
When I find myself standing in front of the mirror
With my fingers, my thoughts too muddled
At the still dark and bruised morning,
Only four a.m., it always begins at three or four a.m. –

Fighting my hair which I left uncut for too long
Trying to tie it back, pin it back, make it get along.
A brief walk is all I need, but first I’ve got to fight truth
In the knots I pull out of my hair and the knots
I tie into my heavy graveyard boots.

Get to work, try to work while I can,
Every minute is wasted trying to do the little things
Before it all catches up to me, that thing with the
The lack of sleep, or nothing but sleep,
A semi-constant sticky seeping darkness

That lingers at the back of my throat,
Or sits awkward in my chest on the heart
For most of the year, ready and waiting,
It tastes not unlike fear, but sweeter
In its sickness – I’ve got to get ready to die.

I’ve got to be more ready than anything
For the next three months or four months.
I only get to be living for just a quarter
Of every year. What would you call me?
What could you call me?

 

 

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

Daily Card Pull – The Wheel, reversed – ‘Bitter Bones’

So this was yesterdays card – I wrote it between jobs but didn’t post it because by the time I finished my final day at the night job I was feeling a little dead. The card I pulled was The Wheel of Fortune in reverse which is a card signifying bad luck and misfortune. Sure enough, it was a tough day despite little joys. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll get today’s and tomorrows out. For now I’d best head to sleep for I begin work at 5am.

 

‘Bitter Bones’

Today could’ve been a good day
Like no other, sprinkled with little blessings
Little joys found like leaving a job
I couldn’t stand anymore,
Being praised and seeing old friends,
Treating myself to coffee.

It all went so smooth, so well, yet
Lingering it all hurt. I woke up with the hurt,
A rotting somewhere around the knees and ankles.
The ache in my bones bluntly reminding me
Not all my days will be lived equally.
It was a sweet day with a bitter aftertaste.

I wanted to live it all fully, gleefully, but
All those simple little things were tainted by
My inability to focus, to busy trying to not fail
At everything I attempted, such as laughing
At a joke instead of wincing, and complaining
How today was a bit rougher than I wished.

 

 

 

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.

Shadow of May – Day Fifteen – ‘All the Little Hurts’

Here is yesterday’s Shadow of May! I’m still a little sick – but I’m going to try and keep on top of these. I at least want to get through all 31! Even if I’m a bit behind in some areas – the challenge asks some very interesting questions… Yesterday’s question was: How do I perceive pain?

‘All the Little Hurts’

I’ve grown to hate the question,
“Who hurt you?” as if all the little hurts,
Many little hurts, many little things
That make a person over time can be pointed
To some single person to blame it all on.
Pain has become a natural part of my life,
It’s all the little lost hopes, the forgotten dreams-
All which hurt and have made me who I am today.
It has never been just a single person,
Someone tangible that I can be protected from.
I love how it’s never been that simple-
I would never have got here if it was.

NaPoWriMo – Day Thirteen – “Spoonie Ghazal”

Today’s prompt was to do a ghazal! I’ve never written in this format or even heard of it, which is a shame because I feel it could produce some pretty neat poems if done right – I’ll definitely be on the look out to read some poems more like this as the semi-strict format can really make the writer think.

‘Spoonie Ghazal’

With a list of things to do, who has time to walk and think.
How is it people can get up every morning and walk and think?

It’s terrifying just to try and make up your own mind,
To know and understand what it is you want when you walk and think.

Have you ever woken up late with the tiring heaviness of knowing,
A spiritual groaning, about how hard today it will be to walk and think?

Or maybe you have experienced an anxiety brittle bone deep,
A need, a pressuring need to do something, anything, to walk and think.

Ever have you had your heart cry out and leave your body in a panic,
Chest bursting, it needed, but you lingered too late, to walk and think.

To have a perfectly pearly life, to be born silver spooned in the soul and body
I’m not lucky – I can’t walk and think and I can only walk and think.