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 Eight – ‘Living Alone’

Finally caught up! Here is today’s Shadow of May! Oddly enough, all the cards I drew were extremely positive in light of the question (and four of five were Major Arcana…): What can solitude help me with?

‘Living Alone’

She’s asked often if she’s married,
Whom, they wonder, could be so blessed
To have such hard-working wife,
They are so offended when there is
No one to worship the person they praise.
But, what if – she worshiped herself?
In solitude, accepting things society doesn’t
Healing wounds no hands could reach.

He is told marriage is a stability
Anyone can afford – who wouldn’t wish
To come home to love and acceptance?
He does – he finds it by himself, most often,
Within himself and that’s okay, he thinks.
But sometimes it’s hard not to wonder
If, maybe, in a voice like someone else’s, it’s not.
But in solitude he can accept all his wrongs.

Solitude does not mean loneliness,
At some point, we all need to face ourselves
Without anyone else intervening. Accept ourselves,
Accept the shadows, the demons, the thoughts
Better left unsaid except when alone and facing
The mirror, knowing how to face failure
And being able love yourself for it all, regardless.
Some people can do it everyday. Some can’t. It’s okay.

Shadow of May – Day Three – ‘They Told Me’

The school semester is almost over and work has been a little crazy, but I still managed to get today’s piece done! Today’s Shadow of May questions were: How do I treat others? How do I treat myself?


‘They Told Me’

Home is where the heart is
They will tell you
But what if I don’t want to go
To where my heart lies.
Why can’t home be where I’m safe,
Not a place where I’m afraid to open
The front door, a place I haunted-
Another heart, sky, and world.
Why can’t home be
The simple thought of existing
Without repercussions.

Home is where there are people,
They will tell you,
Who love you, sometimes.
But sometimes I cannot bare to look
Anyone in the eye, not after all those nights
I spent intolerably alone,
But I still offer little hellos
To strangers because I remember being
Strange, alone, mistaken, and abused, once.
It’s not the best thing I can do,
But sometimes the only thing I can do
Are little tiny words.

Shadow of May – Day Two – ‘Falsely Beat’

So today’s Shadow of May question was “How do you express Love?”
And here is how:

“Falsely Beat”

Do you hear that false heart beat?
It’s mine, it’s all mine, and it hurts
To hurt them all so much. I lie. I lied.
I wanted them to love so much more than me
I wanted them to love what I could eventually be.

I express my love in forced stability,
The sterility of a false heart that beats
Silently, so perfectly – you could say it doesn’t
Ever truly beat at all. And I loved so faultlessly
False they bought it all, they fell before I could fall.

Harmoniously. I wanted every single Love I loved
To be harmonious, the sound of two hearts together
Seamlessly – I wanted instant seamlessness and I…
My Mother told me to fake it until I make it, and I…
It’s mine, only mine, that false and skipping heartbeat.

Shadow Of May – Day One – ‘Endless My Love’

So I should probably put a disclaimer on how lame the next few poems are gonna be, because this month I’m doing the tarot challenge Shadow of May –  a tarot based shadow work challenge. Shadow working is generally an exploring of feelings and habits you’d rather avoid/are a bit personally loaded. I’m not including any cards or any in depth journaling, but I will be posting the question and the resulting poem based off each days respective reading.

So disclaimer: The next month will be featuring really whinny, badly written poems. Today’s question was ‘How do you feel about the idea of Love?’

‘Endless My Love’

Gentle sigh, gentle sigh,
Gentle all the little suicides
As I’ve been waiting twenty-something years
For a storm, for a wave, for anything –
Anything real that I can touch and feel.

What is Love? What is Love to Me?
Endless patience, endless waiting, endless nothing-
Nothingness while I’m stranded in a boat on the sea.
I don’t need help, but all I need is so much help
As it’s only me – only me out on this still glass sea.

But I won’t ask, I won’t beg,
I won’t row toward humanity.
I see nothing but the sea and me, endlessly.
Though there’s nothing here, still I wait-
A gentle sigh, all the gentle little suicides
Are all I have in this great nothing of a sea.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Eight – ‘The Goal’

I was a bit later than usual today, but I managed to work out a Skeltonic poem per the prompts request. Now, i’m a little mixed about this one. I like it, but outside of the words involved, I find putting this thought into words to be lengthy. Keeping my lines short was quite hard.. But a fun challenge. I might try this form again, later.. I will admit, this is not very dipodic. I kept switching between two and three stressed syllables, and I can’t seem to figure out how to keep myself at two.

‘The Goal’

Keep quiet love
Near – in a glove
Maybe, or above
And out of touch
To see but not clutch
At desperately – much,
Not overly much.
Sell your soul;
Comfort is the goal.
Keep it in control,
Keep quiet love –
Or I must get rid of
It, all of it, right here.
Keep it gone, or near-
Hush love, hush soul:
Living is not my goal.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Two – ‘Don’t Care to Care’

I must apologize – I wrote all this half asleep(I’m just that exhausted from work). Around the end I realized this might not be a georgic poem, it doesn’t seem to have much in way of dealing with land or rural imagery… unless the thing you’re caring for is not land but rather yourself. You are your own world, your own land, your own nation- I suppose, and with that supposition this can be a georgic.. or not.

I tried, and now I must sleep. I’m existing on three-four hours of sleep and it shows. Please excuse the typos – there’s probably quite a few…


‘Don’t Care to Care’

There is no romance in suffering,
The inflection upon ourselves or earth-
But we are told it is such a natural thing
To deny ourselves such love from birth.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.
For me, you might say, it won’t change
If I miss once or twice such little things?
Food, sleep, simply ease: why such outrage-

Suffering seems like such a natural thing.
Today I accept I lack what I might need:
Simple decency – for what makes me human
More than the need, the devouring need, a greed.

It might not matter, it will not matter
You think when you attempt a good deed
Knowing that life might as well give nothing
In return, but what if you did succeed?

Could it not be worth it? To see the world
A little brighter, a little lighter, cleaner, at ease.
When was the last time a break was made,
Small sufferings abandoned for a gentle breeze?

Stop suffering, stop daring yourself to fail.
There is no romance, no pride in pain
Gained from being too weak to treat yourself
Gently, like glass, when you know there is no gain.

NaPoWriMo – Day Eighteen – ‘Sunsplit, Busted Lip’

Today’s prompt was to do a poem using neologisms, or made up words. I was actually rather worried about this piece because using multiple neologisms is not my strong suit – one or two is okay, but after that I worry about it become too coagulated to understand. I use inktorn on occasion, but other than that the rest are all very new..


‘Sunsplit, Busted Lip’

Sunsplit, busted lip, August’s hot heat at home-
We could’ve been, we could’ve been something
Not what you thought I thought I wanted so long ago,
Long ago when I was too quiet to say something more.

My heartlipped dreams once stwafed and spit,
I drove myself to happiness believing in a simpler bliss-
Maybe I could cherish a childish thing, a frank thing,
I dreamed we were friends left yet to be- you and me.

Your blue eyes were madness to me, they made me inktorn,
I could’ve sworn it was nothing but pure, but they said
I was soulbent, brout tipped, too heartlipped to be truly pure,
They told me it was love, the glove fit, and I –

I believed them, friendship spent, words bent,
So, I went and I became only more inktorn for the world.
I spent my Augusts sunsplit, busted lipped, hot heat
Not at home – I feared you thought I thought I wanted something-
Something not quite as pure, but, I was too quiet to say something more.

NaWriPoMo – Day Seventeen – ‘What They Need’

Today’s prompt was to do a nocturne inspired poem- and what’s better than heartbreak and moths? I had to write this one twice because the first version came out as too forceful, which unfortunately made writing a little longer than anticipated so I’m publishing this a few minutes into April 18- oh well.

‘What They Need’

You’re beautiful, but depressing-
It’s 2am and you’re eating your grief
For another lost love, another future gone
You swore this one was The One,
The One you thought you could count on.

Did you not know-
You can break your own heart,
Staring at that ceiling hoping for someone,
Not you, to dream of being saved by – Counting,
You’re just counting the seconds and the spins
The fan above your head makes, hopelessly alone.

Come now. Please. Slip your shoes on, or not,
We’re going outside tonight, right now – to count,
We’re going to count the moths as they bash themselves
Against our porch light, a sun to them, a lover – Look!
How determined, how sure they are of its gentle warmth.
How sure they are of what they think they need, when cold-
Did no one teach them how to love themselves first?

NaPoWriMo – Day Sixteen – ‘Letter to Love’

Today’s prompt was to write a letter. This feels unfinished to me – maybe I missing a stanza, but I don’t want it to be too lengthy. On the bright side, this is only the second time this month I’ve posted late! I must apologize – I’ve been sick.

‘Letter to Love’

My Love, we all do terrible things
To ease own troubled minds-
A little nick here and there, maybe
A breath of harsh, but fresh air,
A little something less to temper life.

Darling, it’s all personal, all collateral,
I can love another all day, but at night,
Come night, I cannot bare to love myself.
Sometimes you must, you just redirect the pain
From one area to another, emotional to physical.

My Sweetness, my only Sweetness to sweeten
The scares and scars I get when I feel I not quite
Here. Disjointed, Unreal, Unready, I feel-
And I do not feel, so I learned how to do terrible things
To ease, to temper, to try my troubled mind.

My Dear, forgive me for all I dare to ask –
I do not know most days who I am or what I am called.
Please, give me a name, give me something to call
What it is that this body does, has become,
Let me answer to something I can grow to love.