Within One Day.

Terrifying
turbulent
negativity
everything
painful
depressing
hopeless
despairing
loneliness
pretending
fearful
frozen
immobile
uncaring
unfeeling
unloving
despising
self-loathing
collapsing
crumbling
shaken
.
.
.
Supported
delicately
comforted
thoughtfully
soothed
suggestions
questions
discussions
optimism
hope
energising

===

[ a companion piece to my poem earlier today. This was actually started first thing in the morning and completed much later at night. Thanks to Helen for the support. This single word phrase per line poem is a return to one of my favourite styles.]

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Posted in Poetry

Some days – NaPoWriMo (reblog)

wbdeejay:

Chantelle’s words are in sync with my thoughts today, feeling lost and confused, but pushing on – somehow. Just what I needed to hear.

Originally posted on Soul Renderings:

Some days the hardest part of pressing on

comes in learning to let go

learning to move on

to stop dwelling on what could have been

what should have been

or why

Some days the hardest part of finding myself

comes with learning that it’s okay to be lost

that life doesn’t make sense all the time

and that’s okay

it’s all part of the process

and what’s important

is that I continue

to try.

View original

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Posted in Poetry, Reblogged

Over and Over and Over and Over.

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It’s difficult to capture feelings
when it seems
you feel nothing at all
when you would rather disappear
than continue facing
the heartbreaking anguish
every moment brings
even though
a far off voice
is reminding you
it’s all untruths
but drowned out
by the roar
of illness-borne insanity.

What if I stopped caring for myself
forget the carefully balanced diet
steady splashes of alcohol instead
or sample something stronger
for the relief of numbness
and any break from my thoughts
seems worthwhile
but I know
(from experience)
the consequences of those actions
are worse than the present -
longer recovery
lingering side effects
toxic attack of this temple
wreaks terrible damage.

So once again
I am nothing
I can’t even break down properly
self preservation instincts
sensibleness
conspire to control me
sustain and retain me
for better or for worse
and I think
(as I always do)
that writing
is the only thing
that gets me through.

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Posted in Poetry

The Here and Now Struggle.

When your concentration scatters
you can’t focus on what matters
a ring of pressure surrounds your head
throat is sore and dry and red
sense familiar dread proclivity
of all thoughts to negativity
pack it in and head to home
where you’ll dread being alone
want to scream and thrash about
your whole existence is in doubt

Now can’t bear to face tomorrow
fear continuation of sorrow
even put off going to bed
strong painkillers want for head
close my eyes and focus here
on this moment right now clear
put aside all future worry
for a precious minute clarity
could you feel that way more often
then the painful days would soften

===

[not letting a mild migraine and spaced out day stop me from NaPoWriMo participation, used it as my inspiration instead.]

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Posted in Poetry

The Great Easter Poem.

Easter is a long weekend, what are we planning?
Easter is dark chocolate egg for early breakfast having
Easter is foil crunching between your teeth (missed that bit of wrapping!)
Easter is the precious gift of giving and the humble gift of receiving
Easter is 250% wage loading, extra pay for working
Easter is managing a meal with the family even when they are working
Easter is driving for hours to participate in camping
Easter is pagan rituals still surviving

Easter is giggling and searching for the kids
Easter is family egg hunts in the garden
Easter is games with the niece and nephew

Easter is making hot cross buns with your best friend
Easter is free hot cross buns at your hardware store
Easter is deck construction, house renovations continue

Easter is dark rainy Friday morning
Easter is sunshine filled days outside
Easter is bicycle rides

Easter is eggscelent
Easter is rising to the occasion
Easter is always too close to Passover

Easter is forgetting what day of the week it is
Easter is two public holidays surrounding a weekend
Easter is a mad scramble before, but then relaxing with family
Easter is love

.

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[Easter is the Easter bunny helpers all tired out from their deliveries. With thanks to my friends who contributed input on what Easter means to them.]

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Posted in Poetry

Thick and Tasty.

My breakfast turned to jelly
Before it even hit my belly
I’m guessing all the fibre bits
Contributed to this

Chia, Quinoa, Psyllium
Macca powder and Cinnamon
Liquid part of Rice milk has
Contributed to this

Left to soak overnight
Warm up until it feels just right
Stirring in creamed coconut
Contributed to this

The last and special additive
Stewed plums or Blueberries do give
A purple colour, while flavoursome
Contributed to this

.

[a companion piece to my previous food poem Rainbow Diet, same breakfast dish, in more detail here]

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Love. Music.

Dreamt I was lost
and looking for you
Hadn’t found you yet
Was listing my musical tastes
To encourage a clear
Appetite for love

AM radio pop music 70′s vintage
A heady dose of pioneering electronic artists from France and Germany
A sprinkle of 80′s computer game music with a pinch of 8 bit console tunes
Equal parts classical, Haydn, chamber music
and contemporary English football loving violin prodigy
Plenty of former Neighbours pop princess K
Swiss electro harpist
Canadian world dub
Quirky alternative rock/pop
Dance around to the myriad of 80′s pop
Dashes of the electronic varieties of progressive house, progressive rock
Some funky disco
and so much more

I love this
It’s part of who I am
Share this with me
I am waiting for you

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NUMBER DISCONNECTED (reblog)

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wbdeejay:

This poem is absolutely brilliant and I identify with it so much.

Originally posted on Hastywords:

IMG_8017

The past searched me hard
Stood right up next to me
Trying to convince me
I was still part of it
Still romancing it
Still black and white in it
The words slipped past
The silence in between
And you tried to tell me
I was still on your mind
I was still a part of you
I was black and white to you
Your hands started reaching
Grabbing me, feeling me up
But they were blocked
By the ticking of the clock
You were part of what used to be
So black and white to me
If I gave my love back to you
Gave the past another chance
Would you still overwhelm me
With your messed up chemistry
Would you whisper some color
Onto our colorless tapestry
I hate regret, to feel defeated
And when the future called me up
  Telling me the past was dialing
Ringing…

View original 65 more words

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Singularity in Space. (a response)

Perhaps…
possibility is hope.
Resigning to the practical
pushing away dreams
that were not as they seem
after all
your heart
belongs elsewhere
from your thoughts,
You belong
in you
and there
starts the magic
discovery

.

[Kudos to the ever-thoughfully-inspiring Rachael for today's spark]

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Senses. (update)

wbdeejay:

The missing sense of smell has been added to the original poem. For those early readers (you know who you are!), thankyou, and enjoy this update.

Originally posted on 42 Days Younger than Kylie:

I smell them all
Market scents and sounds
surround me
Ripe fruits
Spiced mushrooms
Heady aroma
Your perfume
And I feel

I hear them all
My taste in music
The sounds
The edits
Every note
Complexity and simplicity
Voice and instrument
And I feel

I taste them all
Ingredients I see
Crunchy raw nuts
Seasonal vegetables
Sweet wine
Savouring the meal
Your lips
And I feel

I see it all
How they touch
What she is thinking
The ignored child
The look
Colours
Those curves
And I feel

I touch it all
Silken hair
Scarf
Knitted fabric textures
Smooth tight cotton
Warm skin
It all touches me
And I feel

.

[Today's NaPoWriMo prompt has taken priority over another poem I wrote earlier. The prompt was to use the senses in a description of something. I have taken this further in my own way (yes, I'm a rule-breaker) with an…

View original 44 more words

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