2020 Week Four Poetry: In Darkest Days

I’m quite tired. Fortunately there’s only five more days of exercise for REDJanuary to complete. Fingers crossed I will not have a repeat of the trauma relapse that happened on Thursday for a while, and tomorrow there’s a new back shave and hairdo and that is always something to look forward to. In the meantime, I have nothing to say about this poem other than it was a useful exercise in stream of consciousness writing, and that I’m likely to come back to this at some point for a rewrite.

That reminds me, I need to sort out the February headers tomorrow…


In Darkest Days

Monday’s muted hue reminds: don’t quit today, not finished here; mind left awry, piled Jenga high each countless resolution neatly filed, marked decades past.

Tuesday’s ruby heart pumps strong: another mile, muscles dictate; progress made far past
expectation, stamina evolving unpredicted revelation.

Wednesday wanes, impostor syndrome looms, all alone ‘cross sweat stained rooms; bad moments burnt, kindling bright: evening’s progress strong, consistent pace.

Thursday’s emerging, different past, everything placed: inescapable reality’s thrall deposed, unopposed ascendancy guaranteed, unstoppable forced.

Friday doesn’t mind, forgiving sins: dice thrown, snake lies slain; Eden’s burnt remains. All this will pass, promise paid, toss broken gains.

Begin again.


 

2020 Week One Poetry: That Kills Us

I stopped writing weekly poetry for Social media when it became apparent that work could be used elsewhere… to maybe make me some extra cash, or win a contest. After a year where neither of those things have come to pass, it is time to go back to what was working best for me in terms of creativity. This is the equivalent of drawing every day. It is means by which my craft improves.

These words are the best ones.

That means 52 poems, including holidays: Monday to Friday (or in this case, three days for the start of the year.) Where months start mid-week, I’ll write less (Week Five will also only be three days long) giving time for a bit more rest. The proviso here is everything is written ‘live’: no weeks of polish. If it’s a verse a day for five days the original selection will be skeleton-built the week before and amended on the fly.

That means next week’s five verses are ready to roll starting tomorrow but might totally alter when I post them. We will see. 

For now, this is a solid start.


That Kills Us

Repetitive, blamed infamy
always somebody else
pointing finger, insinuate
your problem, halved
segment, rotten whole.

Slope, madness descends
cackling uncontrollably;
finger given, on the way
past circles held, restricting,
other people’s selfishness.

That kills us, possibility
this time, perhaps, is better;
sad inevitable, lies:
hope only held eternal
if goodness sets her springs.