Every year I live, growing
older, realizing what I
have yet to learn, recalling
earlier years with fondness:
I miss the innocence of
childhood, I long for the
summers of my youth….
Long-lasting days were filled
with tree-climbing, friends,
and riding our bikes.
Strenuous games of tag,
rounds of epic hide an’ seek.
Creating stories to play
out with our toys: Pound Puppies,
My Little Ponies, Beanie Babies….
Hours lost in play without a care.
Warm summer nights, no
rules, sleepovers and staying up late.
Gathering with our families around
giant, crackling bonfires,
making s’mores til midnight,
filling jars with lightning bugs.
Simple pleasures fueling
Reality was whatever we wanted.
Life was full and happy;
we were indomitable.
In childhood, we dreamed of bright
futures and where we would go,
the dreams we would reach….
Only twenty years later, and
I barely recognize my reflection.
Happiness and innocence
bowed to tragedy and
responsibility even as
childhood yielded to adulthood.
Long since, my hair began to
grey, calluses formed (both
figurative and literal).
Now fine lines make their
entrance, mirroring those
of heart and soul upon
face and hands.
Such is the wear and
tear of life upon this state of
humanity, of time upon
Responsibilities now weigh as
age keeps encroaching.
In adulthood, I remember the
joy of innocence, yearning to
return to a time, a place,
where dreams could come true.
Reality proved harsh and
and I feel
Note: Lack of ending punctuation is intentional.
Far from my best, but this has wanted out these past several days that I’ve been wallowing in the mire of my funk.
Turn your face to the sun,
take one step into the light;
may it fall warm upon uplifted face.
Let not shadows behind fill you with fright.
You cannot escape them,
they cannot be evaded.
Constant companions they will stay;
your storied past cannot be traded.
Eyes lifted to bright sky,
take another step. Smell the clean air;
it is unfouled by former path,
so have not a care.
Shadows are cast behind, short or long;
with light ahead they fall behind you.
There let them stay, as is there place.
Ahead, in the light, is your beautiful view.
Not that I really know what this is like,…
Beyond the shores of slumber,
Where peace overtakes daylight’s stress
Upon the starry shore of sleep,
There lies a place of dreams
Over which reigns tranquillity and
Serenity. Hand in hand,
They show deepest desires: wishes
Given life. Hazy, dim, those
Visions shrouded, lend a certain
Happiness. Things impossible
Or improbable upon waking; clarity
Cloaked by nightfall, a blanket of bliss,
Encourages, comforts, granting
Relaxation during repose, a
Sense of wholeness found,
Thoughts blister from
scalding through veins.
Heartbeat a thrum,
pumping the bellows
lest sensation wane.
My heartstrings strum
to rising passion –
pleasure or pain –
one they become,
searching for outlet and
not in chains remain.
…I will share this much: I’ve never truly given Charles Bukowski much time. Not a huge fan. Too…I don’t know. Too modernly raw, maybe? I’ve not read all of his poetry, only maybe a dozen. I’ve found three or four that I like. This one, I’m quite fond of:
“As the Poems Go By”
as the poems go into the thousands you
realize that you’ve created very
it comes down to the rain, the sunlight,
the traffic, the nights and the days of the
years, the faces.
leaving this will be easier than living
it, typing one more line now as
a man plays a piano through the radio,
the best writers have said very
and the worst,
far too much.
We’re nearly midway through the month (and almost to tax day here in the US (ugh)), so i thought i would host a mid-challenge review.
This is the first year I’ve participated. I’ve been writing for a decade and a half (jeez i feel old!), but never heard of NaPoWriMo before this year. Ironically, i had read something that challenged poetry writers to write a poem a day for a year. I’d only averaged about two a week til this month, whether because of “life stuff” getting in the way, battling depression, or revising the same poem for several days. This month, I’ve focused more on quantity than quality, just writing whatever comes to mind whether offhand or following prompts from NaPoWriMo.net, the writer’s digest poem-a-day challenge, various tweets from other participants, etc.
I’d like to hear about your experiences!
What have you learned from NaPoWriMo this year? About yourself? Your poetry and poetic ideas (or ideals)? About writing in general? Any new goals? What or who has been the greatest inspiration?
And, as it is simply National Poetry Month in general, have you discovered any new poets or poems that you enjoy? What has impacted you?
I’m sure I’ll think of more questions to ask by month’s end. And I’ll be mulling my own thoughts and experiences to share in a more coherent, less impulsive post than this! 🙂
Let’s not talk about day ten….it contained only recuperation from a thunderous hangover. My personal celebration of spring arriving here…well, it lasted nearly twelve hours and contained far too much wine and vodka. OUCH!!! Fun, though! Haha! Anyhoo:
“In Case of Un-Inspiration:”
1. Lay pen to page.
2. Move wrist, hand, fingers
(in unison): write!
The muse, she’s fickle,
wait for her; write
Choose topic (or
lack thereof). Write.
but don’t over-think.
Rather, feel. And
Later will be for
Now is for thought
Later will come the
Inspiration visits the
diligent who work
despite its absence.
Nothing very good; i seem a bit distracted and scattered, struggling to produce anything of value. But, I’m still writing and participating, and here’s today’s entry if you’re interested.
Spring has finally sprung.
Flora begins again to flourish.
There are but few clouds above.
Sunshine warms air and ground.
Gentle breezes play in the trees.
Cool grass tickles beneath toes.
Birds sing happily for you.
In this moment all is well.
What have you to be sorry for?
If you’ve gotten this far, apologies! haha XD