NaNoWriMo – ‘Lost As A Moth’

Writing was a little difficult today, but I’m tired of only making progress every other day. I have been a little under the weather recently, but I think I can work through it. It’ll help that I have the weekend off (to my knowledge), so I can get some rest.

Anyway, onward to today’s poem. This one was originally sitting around in fragments for the last few months and I finally pieced something together. I hope you all enjoy!

‘I Am Lost as A Moth’

At some point, at least once a month
I am as lost as a moth looking for the moon.
I will end up on my bedroom floor staring
At my bedroom ceiling reciting and practicing
All the words which will never leave my throat.

What the hell am I doing, I will ask
Myself and yet no one in particular, because
I know absolutely but my incompetence in basic
Living as a functional human being, so let me-

So let me sit like the moths do at midnight
On the wall trapped inside a house with bright lights
That I thought all too soon must have been something
Resembling the moon – Let my heart and wings flutter.

Let me stutter to the beat of my dusty, battered wings –
I’m full of life, I’m so terribly full of life and it feels
Incomprehensible not being able to do or know what to do
Except fling myself into fire in an attempt of deliverance.

 

 

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.

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 Thirty – ‘Ankyloglossia’

I didn’t want to be late, but whoops. Here’s day thirty of Shadow of May. The question asked was: How do I listen? How do I speak?

 

‘Anakyloglossia’

I learned when young not to listen
To the other kids on the playground-
I was in second grade, aged just eight.
I was tongue-tied – I was born
With my tiny tongue fused to the bottom
Of my mouth, all my words were locked
On its tip, which I couldn’t lift.

They didn’t know, my parents,
The teachers, or classmates. I was slow
And special. They listened just enough
To know I wasn’t right in my words. I learned
I wasn’t right in my words,
And every day I felt betrayed by them
When they tumbled helplessly awkward
From my mouth. I had tried to explain myself
In all those uncertain and clumsy sounds
That I knew, but didn’t trust.
I became so aware of all the little sounds
I made and didn’t. Short tongued and short
Tempered, and ashamed I fought or ignored
Everyone who tried to laugh at or limit
Me.

Eventually,
They cut my tongue free.
Forced it upwards and disconnected me
From what I had become, but in the end,
Ultimately, I had already been taught I could only
Listen quietly to the people around me, and I
Seemed so wise in my silence, that by the time
I was a young adult I was asked often to give counsel,
To give my opinion, my secretly clumsy, distrustful Words,
And I, every time, feel deep anxiety blossoming,
Blooming under my tongue, waiting and fearing
I’d give it wrong.