obsession inspired by wisps of real and imagined laughter

Ballads of insecurities and perceptions and perfectionism. Words of melancholy and regret but also hope. Experimentation and new beginnings of different styles of poetry and manners of thinking. (I might start doing the lowercase poetry thing. *gasp*) Probably not a lot of rhymes. Utmost free and random thoughts.

Goals

Write 30 poems and one poem per day
Comment on someone's thread every other day
Write at least eight lowercase poems
Actually remember the time of a poetry jam and attend it

Code

Code: Select all

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[bebas][color=midnightblue]Poem  |[/color] [color=cornflowerblue]Day [/color][/bebas]
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Table of Contents

1. Is it sunny out, or is it a stifling heat?
2. crumpled magazines
3. Stairs
4. the embers fill your heart
5. vanity is insecurity
6. they're even laughing at me when they're not there
7. the sapling was arguably more free than the tree
8. sometimes i hate how you don't care
9. Eclipses cause Apocalypses
10. 'tis the season to be cloudy
11. clear skies
12. milk
13. first impressions
14. invisible
15. the question
16. Life is a table
17. unhearing of the mayhem
18. oceanic paradise
19. love is not caring
20. is this just fantasy?
21. exchanging gazes
22. On the road again
23. the ground is always trodden
24. Not everybody wanted an apple a day
25. pages
26. voices are meant to be used
27. afraid
28. Summer Dreams
29. obsession inspired by wisps of real and imagined laughter
30. The End

Poem 1 | Day One

Is it sunny out, or is it a stifling heat?

When the frigid winter comes
with the cold biting your fingers and toes,
and the wind running into your face,
suffocating your breath,
and worried shivers in the dark and as the sun is just rising,
you must dream of the warm weather,
where the leaves were luscious and beautifully colored,
and the sun warmed both your skin and your heart,
and you could stroll outside and breathe in
the smell of fresh cut grass and blooming flowers.

And when the sweltering summer comes,
with the blazing heat on your hair,
and your shirt drowned in sweat,
and hopping into an oven of a car
after baking in the sun for a few hours,
you long for the cold, chilly days,
where the cool breeze sifted through your hair like sand,
and beautiful, intricate snowflakes fell down gracefully,
and you could just stay inside all day looking at
frozen icicle blades and snow melting and piling up.

I miss it, but other times, I loathe it.

Poem 2 | Day Two

crumpled magazines

i am so tired of the flashes in my eyes
and the cameras snapping away at my face
at what i choose to put on
and whose hand I choose to grasp tightly
these pictures are sent across the world
to be seen by anyone
and everyone
dozens of theories are made about just one photo of me
that is just normal
that is just me
but they see something else
they see an idol and an ideal
they see someone who always looks and does their best
and they always expect the best of me
because i give them the best of me
but not all of me
part of me is not shown
in those pictures plastered with false smiles
covered in content resting faces
that part of me hates all these cameras
all this attention
because somewhere in there
i just want to hide in a corner of a room
where i will just be me
not the hero I pretend to be
i just want to walk in front of others
without hearing gasps and whispers
and hurried hands rushing to get paper and pen
i just want to love someone
without them all resenting me or adoring me for it
i just want to compliment someone
because they deserve it
not because i want to cover them in celebrity fairy dust
but because i love them
i want someone to love me
not the me they see on screens
and in shiny magazines
but the me that hides in the corner
because that's the one that i love

Poem 3 | Day Three

Stairs

Note: Scroll to the bottom and read from bottom up, until the part where you read down, and then read from the bottom up for the second page.

i

Poem 4 | Day Four

the embers fill your heart

fire is an irreparable element
when a house goes up in flames and smoke
and the walls are charred and the curtains singed
the foundations must be built up again
back from the beginning
words are not an element
nor can they burn down a house
but they can be as destructive and irremediable as fire
those words i said to you
they cannot be taken back
they cannot be repaired
i singed your heart and engulfed your mind in flames
the hot inferno attacked your delicate emotions
like a frail piece of paper
burned brown at the edges
and crumpling up
until it crumbled into ashes and dust
i have turned you to ash
because i said words that buried you in blaze
and suffocated your breath in smoke
now the smell still lingers in your nose
who knows when it will go away
who knows when the burns will heal
even if they are healed
the burn scars will still be there
faint echoes of my voice
faded imprints of the flames
if i could erase them, i would
but fire is impossible to erase
fire is an irreparable element

i

Poem 5 | Day Five

vanity is insecurity

her gentle hand brushes through her hair
gazing at her blue eyes in her small hand mirror
she closes it with a
click
snap
she sprays her hair quickly with lavender scented spray
shh
shh
she is pulling her sleeve and adjusting the bottom hem of her shirt
and carefully reapplies her jet black mascara
they say she is vain
they say she cares too much about her appearance
and she needs to look just right
or else she won't be satisfied
but maybe she isn't vain
perhaps she is just scared
scared that people will laugh at her frizzy hair
and giggle and how you can see her waist when she reaches up
or point when they notice she isn't wearing makeup today
perhaps it's not that she wants attention
but wants to avoid negative attention
maybe her adjustments are just fixes
maybe her vanity is just insecurity