the world is on fire: and maybe it’s with the scar that reminds | #SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #10


Hi again!

I’m a few weeks late with this post after a lengthy amount of procrastination and not using my time wisely–which, honestly sounds like a Me Problem, ahahha.

But, I’m here now and we’re back with weekly poems. So this was written as entry #10 in the challenge from July 24th 2020. I hope that you enjoy it because this was one I really remembered and was quite proud of! I even mentioned it to my friend Jirah in my last full post for the challenge, which I will include a link to below. Thanks for reading!!! ❤


THE RULES

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Check out Entry #8 here and the Life Update that took place instead of Entry #9. (Which would have occurred the week of July 12th – 18th) 😀

Now, without further ado…..


the world is on fire:

and maybe it’s with the scar that reminds

 

Trigger Warning: metaphorical self-harm, gun violence (USA), pandemic COVID-19

paper to pen

clacking fingers to

fading keys

 

sunlight interwoven

with moonlight.

 

dancing in the breeze,

an owl hoots,

wondering how many licks

gets to the center

of a Tootsie pop.

 

music filters through the air,

hanging in the invisible

structure,

carrying to hairs in the ear

that distribute sound

and a brain that works

to identify the garbled mess

into that of something-ness.

 

wounds lay bare,

arms heavy with the

weight of metal holders

and casket bearing bullets.

 

waiting for another

one to crack.

waiting for another

one to slip through the surface.

how many this time?

gun violence

a normal occurrence,

when it shouldn’t be.

 

it shouldn’t be.

 

pandemonium:

causing dry mouths

and hacking coughs.

 

quarantine, they say,

stay at home,

but they don’t.

not all.

 

some go out

and some face the world

without a shield

and call themselves heroes,

proclaiming that the world

is safe

when it’s neither

all safe

or

all destructive.

 

it’s somewhere in the middle.

 

life is a series of shades of grey.

 

it cannot be defined by such

strict parameters.

 

but while those who go out

to the world with confidence

in their chest that

they’re doing the “right” thing,

more people get exposed,

some who cannot handle that

exposure,

and so death rates and infection rates

soar.

 

i grow weary with these realizations,

shoulders aching from the pressure.

 

i grow weary with these predicaments.

 

the world keeps turning,

the earth revolving–

another shot fired,

was it intentional or accidental?

self inflicted?

or buried into the flesh of a

person who was taken

far too soon?

 

i sit back,

i watch.

 

and i type these words,

not contributing to anything,

only in the smallest senses.

 

the world is on fire.

 

it is.

 

and somehow,

the burns

don’t sting quite so bad as before.

 

maybe it’s with the scar

that reminds

that healing has taken place

after all.

 

healing has taken place,

after all.


Technical aspects:

Written and edited: 7/24/2020

Mood Music: Multiple (unspecified)


About the Poem: Was going to say the “scar remains” but reminds showed up instead and so I went with it. Kinda like a stream of consciousness type poem and very helpful for me to have written. I didn’t know I was feeling or thinking some of these things. This piece also reminds me of a beautiful poem my friend on deviantART made here about the Parkland shooting (which I’m now writing poetry this year like them, I don’t capitalize very much these past few entries, which is very interesting to me). I’m actually really proud and happy with this piece. I wanted to do some writing and other artsy activities but didn’t want to reread old fanfic chapters in case it broke the writing vibes (I haven’t had any in the last two weeks as of the third full week in July) so this was refreshing and very helpful. I hope that you enjoyed it! Deciding on a title was the hardest part! I really wanted to showcase that scar line so I’m pretty happy that this is where it wound up.

So, that’s it for this post! Thank you so much for stopping by, reading and if you would be ever so kind as to leave me a thought or two, I’d love to reply to them! 😀

Until a couple days from now.

xxx

❤ ❤ ❤

Music for typing this post: “People Like Us” by Kelly Clarkson (and the inevitable dance moves sitting down can provide) 🙂

No One Was Meant to Deal with This Life Alone | #SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #8


Another late post, sorry about that!

Check out Entry #7’s poem here.

Also, let’s just jump right into it! 🙂


THE RULES

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Week #8’s Entry:

No One Was Meant to Deal with This Life Alone

“…You are not hopeless

Though you have been broken

Your innocence stolen

 

I will send out an army to find you

In the middle of the darkest night

It’s true, I will rescue you

 

There is no distance

That cannot be covered

Over and over

You’re not defenseless

I’ll be your shelter

I’ll be your armor

 

I hear you whisper underneath your breath

I hear your SOS, your SOS

 

I will send out an army to find you

In the middle of the darkest night

It’s true, I will rescue you

 

I will never stop marching to reach you

In the middle of the hardest fight

It’s true, I will rescue you

 

I hear the whisper underneath your breath

I hear you whisper, you have nothing left….”

— Lyrics from “Rescue” by Lauren Daigle

Trigger Warning: Depression, self-talk, implied suicidal ideation

(but also hope, rebirth, love, compassion, care, humanity, facing adversity, triumphs, worthiness, positivity and recovery)

your shoulders are weary.

 

your vision is lost.

 

you struggle to gasp for breath,

to pull in the air,

to let it out again.

 

you long for death.

 

but you cannot make it occur.

 

you’ve chosen a different path,

and still the pain bleeds blue,

and you feel you wish you could

surrender to it.

 

I see you.

I hear you.

I know your pain,

as it’s become mine.

 

I want you to know:

you’ll get through this.

there will be hope again.

this isn’t how your story ends.

there is more strength within you

than you realize.

the waves will leave and they will come again,

but they will always leave,

they will always fade,

so where you struggle,

you will find courage

and with that courage

you can find aid,

because no one was ever meant to

deal with this life alone.

 

so I will search for you,

I will search for you in the light of day

and in the darkest caverns of the night.

 

I’ll exclaim your name

because I know it to be

my own,

and I will find you,

I will find you,

and bring you back into the beacon

of the light that I know you will

feel again.

 

I will hold you,

tightly,

and remind you of all the reasons

you have to stay alive.

 

because you’re needed here,

you’re needed.

 

and we want you here,

we want you.

 

you are loved.

you are strong.

you are a warrior.

you are a survivor.

you are worthy.

you deserve to take up space.

you deserve a happy and healthy life.

you are amazing.

you are brave.

you are wondrous.

you are you

and no one can ever replace you.

 

so please,

please don’t try and replace yourself.

 

I see your shadow in the darkness,

the outline of grey that hangs in the air,

and I’m coming for you now.

I’m coming like the waves,

and when I find you,

I will secure you with the firelight

and you can sit back and hear the sparks

crinkle into the atmosphere around us

and you can find something in it,

something there,

that allows you to breathe an easier breath,

for your heart to beat another tune,

and for the world of pain to ebb away slowly,

finding yourself again

exactly where you thought you lost yourself.

 

you will be whole.

you will fall into acceptance.

and you will fight for a brighter day ahead.

 

because they come.

they do.

and we need you here

more than the heavens above require you.

 

so fight.

fight hard and fight loud.

we are here.

 

I am you.

 

and I want us to see another sunrise.

in the fading billows of the smoke,

in the joyous taste of a s’mores,

into the day ahead,

continuing onwards,

continuing over and over.

 

because we need to.

because the world is better

with us still in it.

 

and when you struggle to see the light,

I will hold it out for you.

 

and one day you’ll find,

that you can hold it out

for the next person you try

and save–

kindness and humanity

falling out of your palms

as you climb the highest hill

and call out their name.

 

because it’s you again,

in a different vessel,

it’s you,

and you’re as determined as I was

to find them,

to encourage them,

and to show them the world,

because they deserve to see it, too.

 

and on and on the story will pass,

endlessly into the dawn ahead,

and when the moonlight and the starlight

come out to shine,

someone else out there will find guidance in them,

peace in them

and be able to smile satisfactorily and feel

their soul beat with the crowd of souls that linger

by their side,

warming the air around them,

reminding them that

they

are never alone.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Written 7/10/2020

No mood music specified.


About the poem: So it looks like I wrote this poem the following day from my Goodbye Athena blog post. I was still dealing with the ramifications of that post into that day and I found out that late Thursday evening that I started Mother Redbird’s appearance (which would make more sense why I was so emotional). So I was still feeling the effects from it and needed to vent and had a harrowing day. I did it in the hopes that I could write or edit some fanfic afterward. It captured my mood pretty well,  I think, I found myself hanging on every word just now rereading it, and it is a hopeful poem even if it starts off dark and depressing. Such is life at times, huh? I think it’s a pretty worthwhile poem altogether speaking. I believe this preceded an email I sent to a friend called “Struggle Lane” and in between me working on a new fanfic chapter update.

If you are struggling with your mental health or suicidal ideation and you live in the USA you can contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline either by phone (1800 273 8255) or through their chat service. I used the chat service this day which I felt the person I spoke to didn’t understand either the OCD I live with or the situation of me writing about Athena however it DID allow me time to talk with my Mom and initiate help-seeking behavior in THAT way. So, it’s still worth a shot!!

So yeah, that’s what’s behind this post at least. I hope that you are having a nice day and I’ll be updating this blog with a few new posts in the coming week.

Have a pleasant weekend!!

❤ ❤ ❤

 

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #7: She smiles….

Yet another week into this challenge, although this one is also late again, sorry!

Hi again, welcome back to another posted poetry blog post. If you want to check out last week’s post, here it is! Thanks so much and I’ll see you at the end of this post, which, will be very soon. xxx Happy travels!!


The RULES:

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

 


FYI: Last week’s post’s spacing got completely messed up, so I hope to avoid that into the future. Just wanted to point that out. Maybe I’ll try and edit to fix it but I’m not sure.


She smiles….

and when she wanders

to the cave within her soul,

she takes a deep breath,

relaxes,

and gently rocks to sleep.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Written 7/4/2020

Mood Music: Ambient sounds on Calm App/No music used.


About the poem: This poem was does really fast for me by just taking out a couple of minutes out of my day to jot it down actually on some pink, floral stationary paper. It was heavily influenced by a nonfiction book on sleep that I completely consumed this day ahaha (review to come soon). The book has inspired me across multiple mediums (writing, reading, filming) and I can’t wait to share it with you guys somewhat soon!! (next two weeks or so)

Thanks for reading!!! xxx

PROMPTS OR IDEAS YOU WANT TO SHARE?

Leave them down below. 🙂

❤ ❤ ❤

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #6: Humanity is Measured Not in Hate But in Kindness


Hi again.

When you find this post, I will have scheduled it the day before. Or, the evening before, more so. Regardless, here is the sixth entry into this Poetry Challenge that I’ve made for myself.

Enjoy!

PS Here is last “week’s” post.


What are the RULES?

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Humanity is Measured Not in Hate But in Kindness

it was somewhere

along the way

that they

didn’t

have the heart

to say ‘No.’

it was some place

along the trail

that they

didn’t

have the strength to

bark back ‘Please.’

it was in some manner

where the sun

sparkled through the trees

that they struggled

with the courage

resting in their breast

to say “Stop.”

there was something in the way

that the moonlight

glittered on the ocean front

that made their experience

quantify into thousands of

insects’ wings fluttering up

into a cacophony of sound,

the air vibrating with their pressure,

the breath of life that leaked

from their open mouth

spun into kaleidoscopes as they

shouted from the ground,

“Let me free!”

the sticky, black goo

that rose from the tarmac

threatened to take their

existence from them,

but they were strong,

they were holding on tight,

and they never backed down,

grumbling out instead,

“Try to take me,

And you’ll fail.”

The goo transformed,

turning to a face that

they recognized

as painful,

but still they reiterated,

“Try to scare me,

And you won’t win.”

Their expression was harder now,

softer in some respects,

and their blue eyes flashed

with purpose.

“Try to take me,” they uttered with

a voice as strong as Plexiglas.

“I’d like to see you try.”

The goo changed again,

curling its tendrils around their legs,

legs rooted to the ground in a

steadfast position.

The goo curled them into a tight hug,

but they weren’t afraid any longer,

instead they smirked and said,

“Is that the best you’ve got?”

The goo hissed and moved to strangle them,

and they laughed instead,

pulling away easily and

humming to themselves,

“Your weakness baffles me.”

They narrowed their eyes at the

monstrosity before them.

“You’ve fought wars

and sought out pain,

yet here you are,

incapable of taking me down.

Do you know why?”

The intensity sparked further in their eyes,

just as they began to remove their arms,

stretching the goo’s material

as it cried out in discomfort.

“Because I am Loved.

Because I am Worthy.

Because I am Arose in Purpose.

Because I am Faith.

Because I am More.

More than you’ll ever be,

And when I struggle for breath,

When I fade in the dying light,

I’ll still be Strong,

I’ll still know my Worth,

Because unlike you,

I don’t need to tear people

Down in order to shine brighter.”

They grasped the creature’s limbs

in tight, closed fists.

“You can come back for me,

And you will,

But I’ll win again,

Because I have strength,

I have power,

I have unlimited potential

Compared to you.”

They tilted their head slightly,

the intensity in their stare never

wavering.

“But I won’t kill you,

I won’t destroy you.

Because I know what that’s like too.

So I will help you,

I will uplift you,

And I will heal you,

Because that is what you need.

And if you refuse to change,

If you refuse to become better,

Then I will let you go.

Because even you deserve not to be

Hindered.

Even you deserve freedom.”

The ghost of a smile

Lit up their features as they

Pushed down the creature,

Back into its small pocket

Upon the floor.

“It takes more love to treat

Those who crave it,

But aren’t aware of it,

Than it does to easily

Spill apart hate.”

They dusted off their palms,

The ashy hue left upon their

Fingerprints

And as they did so,

As they did,

Their spirit sparkled and they said

Lowly,

“I’ll trust in you,

Even when you don’t in me.

Because that’s the biggest

Difference between us:

You hate, you destroy, you crave power

and I am loved, I create and I

already exist powerfully.”

They slid a lone finger down the side

Of the aching creature’s face,

“And all you needed was the same.

And I’m sorry you didn’t receive it.

For I am here if you change your mind,

But tearing down others to

Build yourself up,

Is not the way.”

They sighed, lightly.

“Maybe one day you will see that.

For now, I will hold onto it for you.”

They began to walk away, but not before

Saying over their shoulder,

“I’ll be back for you at a later date,

And I will hope for you

And dream for you,

What you never dared to dream for yourself.

Rest easy, my dear.”

A torched piece of parchment

Flew free from their hand

And fell down near the shadow’s

Skin,

Etched upon its surface were the words:

Spreading kindness in a world of hate

Lifts all souls that deserve no such fate.

For humanity is measured not in which

All there is light, but rather when there exists much fight.

And no matter what cost,

What they engender must be no less than crossed.

For it is not only how a person acts within a crowd,

But the way they act alone and proud.

Forgiveness is a force that can only be decided

By those at war,

Who crave more,

Who desire a roar.

And at the end of the night,

They can only choose to shine bright.

Because where there is dark in light,

There is light in night,

And they, too, shall never lose sight.

Technical Aspects of the Poem:

Written and Edited: 6/26/2020

Mood Music: “Where the Shadow Ends” by BANNERS ft. Young Bombs


About the Poem: Kinda thinking of Kill Monger and T’Challa in “Black Panther” (2018) along with other related types of events occurring in the world and just having a creative spirit birthed this poem. I’m not sure if it even makes much sense (and I’ve tried my best rewriting/rewording some parts to make more sense, but I still can’t tell ahaha) but it’s what I got for this week and so that will have to be enough. Also, I’ve been doing a lot more lower cased poetry which isn’t something that I would do a lot of in the past, just an interesting thing. I tried to keep the change when our narrator they started talking more and their confidence grew and so the stylistic choices changed as well to match that. But yeah, let me know what you think!! Thank you so much for reading and feel free to share this work along with my others! Stay safe. xxx

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #5: Rooted in Recuperation| [LATE POST]


Hi again!

I apologize for the lack of posting on here the last two weeks and not getting up a proper post explaining myself even now. I’ve been trying to write a post called “Off the Map” to explain my absence and what I’ve been up to (including a mini haul) but it just sat open in a tab on my laptop for an entire week and I couldn’t bring myself the motivation or inspiration or attention span to properly write it, edit it and then upload it. So, here we are.

I also forgot about this weekly poetry challenge until I remembered it going into work on Saturday which was particularly disorienting and unfair. I was able to write THIS post during my shift but I definitely would have preferred to have done it earlier in the week and not have missed an entire week’s worth of content.

But alas, here it is…. I hope you enjoy it as it was a bit of a vent piece with some of my emotions and also a creative endeavor towards the middle and end. Also, here are the rules for this challenge REAL quick:


What are the RULES?

This is the late fifth entry in my #SummerComer #PoetryChallenge launching from the end of May 2020 to the beginning of September 2020. More rules include:

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Let me know down below in a comment or on my other social media what you thought of this poem and its message!! Or if you’d like to see a particular theme, prompt or character name/location, leave that in the comments too! I will soon be writing up the post and scheduling it for tomorrow for the sixth week of Summer Comer (which I just wrote freshly a few moments ago). Also if you want to see the 4th week’s entry: here it is.

Thank you so much for reading and see down below for both the poem and any notes regarding it. I plan to be blogging again soon and giving you guys a proper update on my life and the happenings going on behind the scenes. Check out my Youtube channel if you want to see what I’m getting up to these past two weeks of immense creativity!! Sending you all the best. xxx


Rooted in Recuperation

basked in

the aftermath,

he follows

 

his spirit

trodden

and his psyche

unraveling

 

with resignation

he sighs:

 

it had been a long day.

 

and he grew tired.

sometimes it was just

how he had awaken

and other times from

precipitating events.

 

today he had grown older,

but feeling none the wiser.

 

it happened,

like this,

sometimes.

 

all he could do

was muster up

his strength

and burrow hope

deep within his bones,

treating himself like the

large, deep oak tree’s roots

that had planted itself

into his memories

as a young child.

 

oh, how he had climbed

its branches–

clambering over the bark,

sneakers losing grip

and trails of the tree’s flesh

skidding off and onto his

caramel skin.

 

he had loved that tree—

loved it more than his own

dysfunctional family.

 

but that’s what they were

at the end of the day:

family.

 

family had its misgivings,

family had its problems

and his had had a few share

of them,

but in the end

he loved them

he had grown with them

and they had learned

to do the same for him.

 

so as he sat

on the edge of

his white mattress,

the covers stripped away

as if he had been

shielding himself from

the dark tendrils

of the world,

he closed his eyes

and the sky that laid behind them.

they filled with pain and

a nagging sense of wonder,

a plethora of encouragement

and a passion

so deep that he wanted–

needed–

to try again tomorrow.

it curled into him tightly,

snuggling into his shoulders

and breathing a new sense of

purpose to his lungs.

so much so that

when the moon fell from

the sky and the sun

rose again,

he tried and tried all over

restarting from where he was

until one day,

he was certain of it,

he’d make things right.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Written and Edited: 6/20/2020


About the Poem itself: This poem, as I mentioned earlier, happened on my Saturday work shift when I was having an extremely off day and things were weighing on me heavily. I wrote this between hygiene time and when I was on the other side of the cottage at the end of the night, trying to edit it down to make more sense. I used a different narrator and had some creative spells with it so I hope it’s nice and I hope that you managed to enjoy it in some manner! Just like anything else, I too shall rise. Hopefully tomorrow’s shift is even better! 🙂

Thank you so much for reading.

I’ll be writing up the post for this week’s poem soon.

Stay safe. xxx ❤ ❤ ❤

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #4: Do Not Make This Funeral Her Home

Hello there and welcome back to another poetry related blog post!!! I apologize for disappearing off the face of WordPress the last few weeks, I’ve been busy being forgetful and often procrastinating on my adult responsibilities, having lack of motivation at times, an otherwise glum type of mood or pretending like certain things don’t exist if I preoccupy myself with something else in the mean time, so, you know, the usual. 😉

I wrote today’s entry’s poem a couple of days ago as you’ll see noted down below, and I pulled from a few different elements which I’ll get into after I paste it all here. Overall, my life’s been all right and I’m happy to have been able to reconnect with some online friends of mine, starting back up where we left off which has been amazing and very heartwarming and rewarding. I have a few other messages I have to attend to soon, a book to finish somehow and in some manner, tweets to make and a couple of emails to write up. I’ve been trying to do some fanfic related reading and messages too so there’s also that. There will be a few new blog related posts to come into fruition soon as well. For now, let’s start off the end of this week with the poetry challenge!!!


QUICK! WHAT ARE THE RULES?

This post marks my fourth entry into the weekly Summer Comer poetry challenge I’ve made for myself to last from the end of May 2020 to Sept 4th 2020. The rules include:

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Let me know what you think of this week’s poem down in the comments! (And as for how I was feeling last week, I’m a lot better and I was able to do some fanfic writing that helped get out of my sexual frustrations ahaha.)

And if you want to help support my mission with this poetry challenge, leave me a prompt, theme or character name/subject you’d like to see me cover and I’ll incorporate something in and give you a shout-out, too!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ Stay tuned until the end to hear my process of this poem, what song I listened to and all that jazz. 🙂 Also here is last week’s entry if you want to reread it!


Do Not Make This Funeral Her Home

Trigger Warning: Grief, loss, death

 

One day,

he knew

the sparkle would

return to her eyes,

the sunlight that

wafted down from

the thick leaved treetops

would part through her

blonde hair as alive and well

as she had been.

 

In the summer night glow

he’d smell her favorite perfume

again,

and he’d hear the shrill

whine in her voice as

she called his name,

“Tyler!

Tyler!”

growing louder and louder

as her heart sang and her

voice rose to the clouds

up above.

 

Her laughter would turn his

insides to goo. He’d be

swinging his head back to meet her,

chuckling as his brown hair

met the rays of iridescence.

 

And it would feel like someone

had planted rainbows in his chest

and his heart would flutter

in anticipation and just as he

was turning towards her—

it would have happened.

 

the truck came barreling

out of nowhere and

his face had enough time

to contort into horror and

he just managed to see

Madeline’s eyes twitch in

confusion as her slim brows

rose in question

before a thunderous roar

escaped and

somewhere between heaven

and Earth,

their shouts and formless

words were blinded by the

truck’s horn and

in the flicker of a second

everything he had once

cared about was

obliterated into nonexistence.

 

He’d thought there’d be

more time.

He’d only wanted

more time.

 

More time to:

hug her,

love her,

cherish her,

need her,

want her,

build a life

together

with her,

carry her,

dream with her,

be–just simply be–

with her.

 

But some dreams shatter

and some fates

are just

not meant to be.

 

So with a mournful look,

he watched as she was

laid to rest–

a rest he couldn’t

fathom would be easy.

 

She had so much left to do,

so much left to change

and impact

and he couldn’t understand

why her life would be taken

instead of…

instead of…

another’s?

His?

 

His.

 

She’d wanted only

the best in life

and it should have been

a sin to take away

such a radiant beam

when the world was

only growing dimmer

and darker by the second.

 

He knew he had

to make a change,

take a stand,

have something be

different

because Madeline Cross

had been alive

and existing once on

this planet.

 

And now that she

wasn’t–someone

had to know what

they were all missing

out on.

 

So he spent months working upon

awareness and reading

agonizingly boring

books on law and

legislation until he

found the way for the

city to commemorate

her death and

build not only a

memorial walkway

where Madeline

lost her life,

a guard rail

to better seclude the

nature trail and install

a stoplight to further

separate the rough framework

between nature and

manmade civilization.

 

And for a while it

eased the ache left

inside his heart

but it didn’t all go

away,

he was pained instead

with a loss so deep he

had no plan on how

to mold or change it.

 

So he didn’t.

 

He mourned.

 

And when he thought

it was over,

it returned again–

until one day

he was out on the

sandy beach,

watching the tide

come in and fade

and he felt her–

he felt Madeline–

take his hand and

squeeze and if he

wasn’t mad,

he heard her giggle and

he heard her say,

“It’s all right, Tyler.

It’s okay to let me go.”

 

Because now he knew

he never really would

and their relationship and

her loss would shape him

and refold him

for all the time and

years he had left.

 

He couldn’t control how

much time Madeline had–

and he certainly

couldn’t control his–

but it was time for him

to move through his

grief–not as a destination

rather a process,

a journey.

 

So when the salty air

pricked the tears

forming in his eyes,

he let himself go,

and he wasn’t surprised

to find all of himself

 

still. there.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Handwritten: 6/11/2020

Typed and Edited: (any minor spelling errors resulted from the typing up portion, in case you find any lingering flaws) 6/12/2020

Music: “Where the Shadow Ends” by BANNERS ft. Young Bombs. Train ambiance also used in the writing process.


About the poem itself: This is honestly the first true original characters/setting poems that I’ve done in a very long time and it was incredibly refreshing and helpful to just take a moment in the pause between my reading a book (of which many frustrations arose) and just create again. It was really, really nice. There wasn’t really much I was upset about but I could use what I learned from the grief book I’m reading as well as tossing in some images I could relate to (for instance, the truck accident made me imagine that scene in “Pet Sematary” the original movie) in addition to some sad news I found out about a friend of mine. It all just wrapped together well and like I’ve already said, it was nice and soothing and I felt calmer after I had written it. I’d had vibes earlier in the week but it was nice to sit down and just let it all flow and see where it would go.

For the title I thought of “Funeral homes” and how that shouldn’t be Madeline’s home and so the title is a call to how we have to learn to move forwards and through our grief rather than expecting it to come and go in expected, structured manners. That her home, or anyone’s home, isn’t in the death and casket or urn itself but her life was the home all along, instead. It’s a way of remembering her and finding justice and peace in her untimely death, it’s a way of trying to make her life have meaning and have her leave behind a positive legacy. It’s also all about the relationship and attachment that happened prior and the end of the relationship isn’t really the end, it’s just a new normal so to speak. Again, when I do this book review on GIAJ this theme will make more sense.

PS In my mind, both Tyler and Madeline were in their mid to late teens. 🙂

Any who, that’s it for me for now!!!

I hope to have much more posts in the coming weeks and to find ways to motivate myself again and finally finish this book!!!

Thank you so much for reading!!! Stay safe! xxx ❤ ❤ ❤

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #3: Of Love and Deep Kneaded Validation


I am feeling a bit off and this week’s poem captures it well. Maybe it’s creative, maybe it’s fiction, or maybe it’s creative nonfiction. Whatever it is I need it to be out of me without being so “obvious.” (Or maybe entirely obvious).

Regardless,

Check out last week’s entry here.

And then check out the rules spit fired at you down below to rejuvenate your memory!!

Quick! WHAT ARE THE RULES?

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Of Love and Deep Kneaded Validation

Trigger Warning: sexuality, sex, coming out, gay, derogatory references, self-harm, black lives matter (and you are so very loved)

her skin felt like

it was on fire.

like bugs were digging deep

beneath her flesh,

burrowing holes deep

into the tissues of her

organs.

 

a bad taste resolved to be in her

mouth,

metallic and thick,

like dried blood,

coagulated.

 

she only wished to be herself,

she only wished to love

another woman.

 

but the temptations,

the judgments,

the outsider opinions,

was flooding her system,

making her retreat backwards,

feel small,

feel infinitely

…. tiny.

 

she hated it.

she resented it.

but she still wasn’t sure,

so maybe,

maybe she thought,

it was for the best.

 

she just wanted to be herself,

in a world otherwise

cruel and indecent,

abusive and toxic.

 

but she wanted to shout from

the rooftops

the truth she felt

deep in her soul,

and still she was silenced.

brought into submission.

 

not that she couldn’t discover

who she was

or get support from

others who traveled the same road.

 

unfortunately,

it felt insurmountable:

this idea of coming together

face to face with others

who have struggled,

who have been unaccepted,

who have been attacked

and hated for what and who

they are.

 

but where they existed,

she knew not.

 

sure, she could find out,

but being online prominently

was more comfortable,

even though the cruelty

was more ever present.

 

it was harder to be called

a fag who should rot in hell

in person

than from behind a screen.

 

and still she was told,

told she fears,

that other people won’t accept her,

that other people won’t validate her,

and for whatever reason,

she felt deeply,

that she wanted to be validated,

she wanted to be supported

and she wanted to be inspirational

and moving and loved,

she didn’t know why though,

why she wanted this from strangers.

 

what wasn’t she getting at home?

what wasn’t she facing in her

everyday life?

why did she need to be wrapped

tight in bubble wrap?

why did she take things so personally?

why couldn’t there be an end

to all the suffering?

 

all she wanted,

yearned for,

needed,

was another woman,

to love:

to care for:

to be present with.

 

but how could she find them in

such a small town?

in limited resources?

in hard times?

 

she wasn’t ready for a relationship yet,

nothing romantic,

but it felt so lonely,

so alone

to be a young woman navigating

the world through the lens of

a broken china doll.

 

she couldn’t go towards her familiars,

her family,

with certain “personal” matters–

sex or repulsion,

dating or masturbation–

and these ate away at her

day by day,

unsure where she fit in,

her world collapsing

her frame of reference

dwindling.

 

where was she now?

who was she now?

where did things go from here?

and could she ever make it

out of here again?

could she ever find herself

a strong,

beautiful,

inspirational,

brave black woman

to love?

because she was drawn to them,

she imagined and she drew of them

for years,

envisioning this amazing

and wonderful black woman

out there in the world,

(would there even be many left

when the injustices slaughtered

them from this earth?)

careening through the ocean’s grace,

searching for her, too,

searching.

 

could she?

 

the answer didn’t

come clearly.

 

it never did.

Technical Aspects of the poem:

Entry #3: #SummerComer

Written: 6/5/2020

Mood Music: “Where the Shadow Ends” by BANNERS ft. Young Bombs


Hopefully I will feel better again soon. I may take some time offline to deal with my issues. I have TONS of blog posts that I can do and am trying to manage. Some will come out next week instead, unfortunately. I may try and read a book too. There’s one I really have to finish. So, I’ll keep busy and play some games too.

I apologize that I’m as off as I am now. Twas an odd family therapy session. I am down but I will not give up. I guess I’ll figure things out in time.

Hope you’re faring better than me right now.

I’m open to messages or comments if you are.

Stay as safe as possible out there, especially my black friends. Thinking of you and sending you so much strength, love, hugs and light. xxx ❤ ❤ ❤

Thank you for reading.

(I may even do some fanfic to be honest)

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #2 | she knew of what could be.

summercomer-poetry-challenge-thumb-5.21.20
This is the second week we are bearing witness to this thumb. Hope it doesn’t get boring as more time goes by! 😉

Hi there! I’m going to keep this short so we have time to stare and admire the poem for this week, ahaha!!

If you want to see the Rules to this challenge fledged out here you can! Or stay tuned to the next little bit where I will do a quick crash course about them. Or, even better, check out this week’s entry into the challenge and then go back later to see the first week’s poem! Dun dun dunnnn. 😀

QUICK: WHAT ARE THE RULES?

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

And, that’s it!

Ready? I hope so!!


she knew of what could be.

somewhere down the

old,

familiar road:

 

she dreamed into the clouds

of the big, blue sky

and the stars trickled down their

light onto her shoulders,

picked her up by the arms

and cradled her strong,

nestling into her full cheeks,

gracing a smile upon her lips.

 

she wore makeup etched within the

lines of her face–

mascara that made lashes sweep,

like billowing wind at the oceanfront,

eyeliner that opened up the green

of her eyes,

making them dazzle and pop,

and the lip gloss that she wore

sparkling on her lips,

glistened like the sun’s rays

through the gaps of a shady tree.

She wore blush that

decorated her face like those

fairy lights that she loved to set up

across her bedroom’s walls,

giving birth to a sweetness running so

deep in her veins that she was

practically diabetic.

A pop of color, the blush was,

across her pale-toned

flesh.

 

Her long, brown hair fell in waves,

curls abounding,

frizz kept at bay.

 

Her eyeshadow screamed of a thousand

suns, the solar system colliding across

her eyelids,

spinning and twirling with their own

gravitational pull.

Colorful would be an understatement,

but she rocked it well.

She rocked it.

 

And somewhere behind her green eyes,

lay dreams she had yet to dream,

hopes she had yet to unveil,

a spark for life that had yet

to encounter her form of consciousness.

 

she smiled at the sky,

for what was and what could be,

and as she blinked away the shadows,

the darkness that dared to cling to her

broken flesh,

she did so with peace in her heart,

and soul in her breast.

 

she was going to make it far.

 

she was going to be the sun.

 

she was going to be enough.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she knew it then

as much as she knew it today.

 

and over and over,

she would sway on her feet,

but remain standing.

 

because she was a wave that could not

be broken,

she was a spirit that could not

sail freer,

she was a force of nature.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

and every day,

every day

she proved to herself

that she’d be there.

 

she’d be there.

 

and next time,

they wouldn’t dare to

dampen her fire.

 

Technical information about the poem:

Entry #2: #SummerComer

Written: 5/28/2020

Background music: “After the Storm” by Mumford & Sons


So, if you follow me on Twitter you got a live action of all my anger and frustrations with learning this new editor and wishing to rage quit SEVERAL times over the 45 minute span I was trying to quickly get this poem up by. Sigh, yeah. About that….

Thank you so much for reading though, and let me know if there are prompts, requests or themes you’d like to see me cover!! 🙂 (Also, are there good guides about how to get used to/learn the new editor? I clearly need to read it!! XD) Leave me a comment down below and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Finally, something a little more productive out of my week, ahaha.

And, about the poem itself: it kinda all came together well and I enjoyed describing things within it and I hope that you enjoyed it, too! 🙂 There are definitely some parts that stick out to me the most. =^_^=

Sending you all light and love.

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge | Rules and Entry #1: (Thanks) To the Music in Her Soul

Welcome to the #SummerComer thumb and blog post poetry challenge!! All photographs by me and the thumb itself was made on the ever so lovely Canva! 🙂

Why, hello there!!!

Welcome back to another blog post on my WordPress account! 😀 This one is especially nice as I’m bringing to you all an idea that I got inspired by this author’s blog post (Jason A Muckley) which was also inspired by this author’s blog post (Brooke Cutler) .

Basically (and I had to switch back to the Classic Editor I know and love because the top bar was missing in the new block editor and I have no idea how to get it back nor do I have the patience for that level of fuckery right now, PLUS we just temporarily lost power so now I feel like I’m racing against the clock, ahahha, sad.) I will layout the outline of each of their respective challenges here:

  1. Brooke’s challenge was to come up with a new poem every day in May using the word “darling”
  2. Jason was then inspired to create his own type of challenge. His involves (and you should totally check them both out, by the way!) writing a new poem every day from May 10th (Mother’s Day) until June 20 (first day of summer) all about summer themed activities and going-on’s. He then came up with a hashtag for the event calling it #FunInTheSun

Now here’s where I come in:

My challenge, inspired by Jason’s, is to create a new poem each week (just one!) starting from this week (originally yesterday, but today is still the first week for me, I’m going on the assumption that Sunday’s are the starts of the week rather than Monday’s) May 22nd 2020 — September 4th 2020 where the theme will be summer but a little looser so it can apply to other topics or happenings that relate beyond summer itself. 🙂 I am calling this series: #SummerComer

So, essentially, I’m going to be doing a creative poem each week starting now until the start of September! Whoooo!!!

If you have any ideas or prompts or things YOU’D like to see me cover, leave them all down below! The layout for this series is as follows:

  • each post will start with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood”. I may sometimes use the Calm App, potentially, and will credit that as sees fit.

That said, here is this week’s first poem:

 


(Thanks) To the Music in Her Soul

 

She heard the lyrics

Of the song within her soul,

Heard the pitch,

Heard the beat,

As she strolled along the shore.

 

She swayed her hips,

Rounded and pure,

Her shoulders knocking back

Moving with the music.

 

She wore a peaceful smile

Upon her full cheeks,

And the pink lip gloss

On her lips

Sparkled in the setting sun.

 

She was aglow with light,

As it wafted down from the large,

Fluffy white clouds.

 

It parted through the shadows locked

Behind her brown eyes,

And it swept away the doubts

And insecurities that would cling to her skin

Late at night.

 

It washed over her like the waves

Lapping at her bare feet,

Chilly in the summer wind

Yet comforting all the same.

 

The scent of the ocean

Flocked over her,

And she dared to break out into song,

Verbalizing the words that had haunted

Her dreams for days.

 

She did this,

Serenely,

As the sun departed behind the hills

Far, far away

As the beach was empty save for a few

Passing gulls

 

And when she left that day,

When she, too, departed from the world,

She did so with a blissful heart

And a song that felt richer

Than it had ever been before.

 

(Technical information about the poem:

Entry #1: #SummerComer

Written: 5/23/20

Background music: “Happier” by Marshmello ft. Bastille)


 

Annnnnd, that’s it!! Thank you so much for reading!! I hope that this can be something neat to look forward to each week on this blog and that you can be inspired in some way by it and hell, maybe someone else will be inspired and continue the challenge-inception spiral! Ahaha.

I will have more blog posts coming in the future.

Thanks again!!

Best! ❤ ❤ ❤ xxx