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 GI100 Book #2...random attempts at poetry. |
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A second attempt at "Give It 100!"  , since the first one ("100" ) turned out pretty well even though I didn't complete it within 100 days.  ![Merit Badge in Mythology
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*^*Salute*^**^*Balloonb*^* YAY!!Congratulations on your fabulous challenge of writing 100 poems is less than your 100 days!! An amazing feat so you deserve a trip to Mount Olympus for a treat! You can walk in the hall of champions. *^*Trophyg*^* Wonderful expressions! Keep on shining. *^*Starstruck*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Mythology-1105.gif) These are just rough sketches and ideas that are barely a little more rounded-out...they're not perfect but they're gonna be good enough to share here at least. Your comments, support, and words of encouragement will be greatly appreciated!  Best Poetry Collection |
7-8-17 The shrink says I'm having "stress dreams" and I wonder if I should ever eat again because there's never a need for either even if they're vaguely unrelated. The only thing that saves me is coffee, even though it sometimes comes out of my fingertips but it's the one vice I can mostly keep down in a manageable way since the booze no longer agrees. And that was the clear-cut go-to when I needed to mute my brain for days/weeks/months at a time. Nowadays I'm looking through cracked windows and sunlight antidotes sicken me because it brings out the worst in the well-intentioned so I'm internally aggravated in a smile-colored package that's fading with age and a failure to understand anything. What good is trying when the resuscitation doesn't fit the faint? There is me...the confused answer to the questions no one knows to pose. And you can't let me in if I can't find the means to come inside. |
7-9-17 Some days it's hard to tell which way the air flows. I'm brittle and lazily focused; I suppose I could just as well go either way, breathing ribbons of anonymously vacant content meant to disturb then settle. Asking for nothing; receiving pacts of consistent partial relevance in return. The house is bleeding fire and all I can do is stare at the scene wondering how I got here and why I'm not the relief I claim to be. Might just be my delusion- my symphony of construction humming broken bars of hollowed notes while dancing in place to the calming notion that sometimes my best company is myself. It's not so lonely at the top when you don't know you're there and the glass house is inhabited by ash-flecked dreams and ill-timed memories. |
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Probably not...how I write them and how they sound in my head is dramatically different than how they sound coming out of my mouth 
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Thank you, Mona!
