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often wandering, still quite lost



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Thu Mar 26, 2015 7:14 am
niteowl says...



So yeah, this is my NaPo. No way in Hades am I linking to my old threads lol.

No real theme, though there may be some heavy stuff. I still haven't written properly about my Yia-Yia passing away, so I want to write about that, but I don't want my whole thread to be depressing. So we'll see.

List of 30 Poems Read. (Note: I may read more than this but these are the ones I'm counting for each day)
1. "Repetition" by Carl Dennis
2.http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/about-tu-fu/
3.http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/i-hear-america-singing
4.http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-9/
5.http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/remember/
6.http://fpcshreveportblogs.org/wheat-2/
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Wed Apr 01, 2015 11:07 pm
niteowl says...



TW for self-harm references (and probably some terrible cliches)

Spoiler! :
the secrets have come out to play

she's crying out for help and i don't know what to say.

it's been an endless cycle of
i just want to sleep
but i'm fine
i don't need help
should i go to the ER?
i can't go
i'm not that bad i swear
just a bad mother, a bad person
i look fine so this is just for attention
i want to fall into old habits
i'm fine
i'm scared to take a shower
i'm okay now
but if i start i won't stop

she started on her arms,
just as short-sleeve weather started.
one turned into two turned into too many
and all she does is cut boxes by herself.

help moves too slowly for those who need it most.
the first doctor didn't believe in depression.
the second doctor believed her
but zoloft only made her dream of knives
and lexapro made them come true.

i gave her every number i could find
but she only called one
assessment, referral, yet another assessment.
all the things you can't say out loud
circled on a questionnaire.

i am a thousand miles away.
i can't drag her to doctors
or take away box cutters
or watch that she swallows her pills.
i thought i was god once,
but i'm just another kind of crazy
and I have nothing left to say besides

Just try to sleep
i know you're not fine
yes you need help and that's okay
you can go or you can keep sinking
you're not bad, you're sick,
no matter what your family says.
i'm sorry,
i'm sorry
i'm sorry


A bit about the inspiration for this...whatever you call the mess above (vaguely poetic blog entry)?
Spoiler! :
So this is about a friend of mine. She's been going through a really rough situation, most recently culminating in starting self-harm again for the first time in years. Oh, and she has to carry around box cutters for her job, so that's not helping. She finally saw someone today, but anyone who's experienced mental health issues knows it's kind of

a long and agonizing process.

So yeah, the above is garbage. But there's some good stuff, so I may rework it.


ETA: Okay, so I was thinking about also reading a poem every day, then I saw @Skydreamer was doing that as well so I'm going for it. Today's is "Repetition" by Carl Dennis found via the Poetry Daily app (which I highly recommend if you have an iOS device).
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Fri Apr 03, 2015 3:17 am
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niteowl says...



Today's read poem http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/about-tu-fu/

As for what to write...I have no idea. This is sort of playing off the NapoVerse prompt 1 (thinking about the background noise in my apartment), but not the actual prompt...

2. It has been so long
since I have tasted silence.
I know and abhor the land
of no voices, something my
thoughts always seek to remedy.

But even as I try to sleep,
try to forget the regrets
my too-long tongue conceived,
I know only the hum of a refrigerator,
the water running through the furnace,
the squeals and creaks I cannot pinpoint.

Silences eludes us always,
but is it worth catching?
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Sat Apr 04, 2015 4:11 am
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niteowl says...



#3

On the last day, I wrote
is it bad that I want her to die already?

there was nothing left here for her but pain,
morphine dreams in an endless sleep.

we lost her in pieces.
First the arms that made countless spanakopitas
Then the legs that drove her wherever she wanted
(to hell with what anyone else had to say),
then the voice dimmed from yelling in Greek
to a mewling ow, ow, ow when they moved her,
to a whispered I'm going to die soon,
then her eyes seemed to shrink into her head
until they stopped opening.

Her breath grew quieter, shallower,
until the last day, when for a brief second,
one eye opened,
as if she was trying to watch us say goodbye.

Spoiler! :
Okay, so this is where I ramble about my poems instead of just letting them lie like the good YWS poets. This is my first actual attempt to write about my Yia-Yia (Greek for Grandma), who passed away in January after being diagnosed with leukemia in September. I've had ideas floating around but it's hard to actually write. It's not the poem she deserves but I'll keep trying. Spanakopita is the Greek spinach pie with cheese and phyllo dough. It is amazing and delicious but none will ever be like Yia-Yia's.

Today's read poem is "I Hear America Singing" by Walt Whitman because I'm following the NapoVerse prompts but haven't had the motivation to try them out yet.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Sat Apr 04, 2015 8:39 pm
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niteowl says...



4. on loneliness and purpose lost

they were born as two,
seeking comfort and warmth
enmeshed in the fibers of the other.

these threads were destined to unravel.

in floods and fires they scream
promise me we'll find each other at the end,
but after drowning and burning they wait
in times they cannot measure.

one by one they are laid out.
some roll into each other,
their unity renewed another day.

but others are just not
the right color, the right size,
no one fits for them.

they are swept together,
a mismatched pile of mourners,
kept just warm enough to wait
for the next load.

Spoiler! :
Yep, this is that profound poem about socks. I hang on to them for so long, even though I'm sure most of them are destined to be forever alone.


Today's read poem is Psalm 9 by Mahmoud Darwish. I am definitely not just tracking along with the Poems of the Day on Poemhunter. No, definitely not.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 07, 2015 1:37 am
niteowl says...



Okay, going a little out of order here. I wrote two poems yesterday but I want to rework the #Napoverse poem first.

Draft 2-- taking out adverbs/adjectives, some reworking
Spoiler! :
i died on the ides of march.
the ambulance dragged me
i protested, screaming
no drugs i swear, don't tell mama...

thoughts flood, body shakes.
anchor cries apocalypse.
mind branches into past,
i remember

Tom b. 1952.

A phantom, he lives, I believe.
I know he memorized the dictionary
and crazy took him to we-don't-talk-about-it
This is what happened, mama

the sparrow told me i am specter now.
my sister will live, her children will know
Nicole b. 1990
who fell to we-don't-talk-about-it,
a tree broken.

the sparrow sent my body to the oak guards.
i solve puzzles, they command sleep.

i wake up suffocating
in orchid capsules, marigold tablets.
words fly onto paper, pencil breaks

i dream the walls are fields painted with lavender,
roots twist into my body,
trees unlock the doors,
dirt permeates the tile.

The window shows bulldozers and cranes.
morning brings tablets,
rebuilding my body
wing by wing.


Well...that was interesting. I think avoiding adjectives really gave this a new dimension. It's not the first time I've written about being crazy and such, but this is pretty personal so I doubt it makes much sense. Still, I think I achieved no adjectives and adverbs. @Audy, you be the judge.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 07, 2015 3:29 am
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niteowl says...



6.

En la playa de la memoria,
busco los pasos, los pasos del pasado.

En el mar de la mente quiero nadar;
los peces felices deseo encontrar.
Ya no hay sonrisas, ya no sé la paz,
Porque el tiburón quiere tristeza lo más.

Devora los peces y trae amargo.
Domina el mar así que no recuerdo
Un pasado de sol, de luz en el cielo;
Abajo la gris, aparece tan lejos.

Translation:
Spoiler! :
On the beach of memory,
I seek the steps, the steps of the past.

I want to swim in the sea of my mind,
for those happy fish I long to find.
There's no longer smiles, I do not know peace,
Because the shark loves sadness the most.

He devours the fish, brings bitterness,
and dominates the sea so that I do not remember
A past of sun, of light in the sky;
Under the gray it seems so far.


This is probably my first serious attempt at writing poetry in Spanish. I was a Spanish minor in college, but I'm out of practice. Still, I thought I'd try submitting to Translature so here you go. Wouldn't mind comments from people who know Spanish/translating, but I'm still working on it.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 07, 2015 4:01 am
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niteowl says...



7. ode to cabergoline

bitter chalk,
laboratory white,
split into two crumbs,
how could you destroy me?
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 07, 2015 4:25 pm
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niteowl says...



8. This is for #NaPoVerse Day 4 @Audy. I looked up the varying shades of blue on Wikipedia and wrote down my impressions as I came across them, sometimes including facts from Wikipedia. It's a little disjointed but I think it fits the challenge.

Spoiler! :
Because I never learned the names of blue

It is sunlight scattered, seeking oxygen, electric sparks.
It is periwinkle invading gardens and a baby boy’s booties.
At X11, it is primary, the cornerstone of colors,
But the printer’s pigment is richer, not glaring like its cousin.
Powder blue triggers memories of eyes you wish you could forget.
In the North they call it azure, evoking turquoise dreams.
Pantone evokes royalty, Crayola the summer sky in wax.
Spanish blue is more Atlantic than Mediterranean, more north than south.
Liberty is tinged by indigo, a plant of slaves,
Not as bright as the Egyptians who guarded their graves.
Ultramarine, a holy blue from the sea, the Virgin clothed in lapis lazuli.
Resolution is quiet, sturdy, standing with navy’s conformity.
Catalina recalls the Spanish tides, darker than midnight.
Independence blends into gray, like liberty dulled.
The space cadet tries to recall the night sky, the ocean.
True blue belongs to UCLA, Honululu to the Lions.
Silver lake blue wraps you in melancholy.
While Majorelle in Morocco dominates intensity.
Lapis lazuli, born from the earth, a gift from radical sulfides.
Short wavelengths bring us sky, bring us night, bring us sadness, bring us life.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Wed Apr 08, 2015 4:01 am
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niteowl says...



8. sleepless in the city

It’s 3 AM and yet the birds sing,
their trills awakening the souls that never slept.

Pink haze skies triggers calls
to the city morning streetlights
illuminating streets still damp
from the downpour.

Birds chatter and shriek between buildings
as if there were only trees.

Spoiler! :
I couldn't sleep last night until around 3 am, when I heard bird calls. Birds sing in the middle of the night? Curious, I went outside and realized the sky was already pinkish, so I guess they were waking up as I was going to bed. Go figure.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Wed Apr 08, 2015 6:34 pm
niteowl says...



This is for Day 7 of #Napoverse. I have chosen to cheat a bit and use my own sonnet, a product of last year's NaPo: Into the Setting Sun. I think the many possible uses of "set" make this too good to pass up.

He said let's ride into the setting sun
Oh! But I know I should not set such things in motion.
He paints a set of paradise, of nothing but him and I,
no worry greater than who should set the table.
We are pottery, just now being formed, but one day we will set
Into the hardened frowns settled on our parents' faces.
Will you love me then, with my sets of woes and worries?
I pack because I want to believe our love is set in stone,
but not our fates. In my suitcase, I set a picture of a little girl
who still played house with kitchen sets and did not know
her mother had just one setting: "Whatever it is, don't do it."
But if I do not run, they will set my bones into the ground
and ask, "But what has she done?". If my setting is not this town,
then why should I stay? If I am to thrive, Mother, you should set me down.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Sun Apr 12, 2015 4:39 am
niteowl says...



10

her lightning tongue
sends sparks down your trachea,
lighting up your lungs for a second
until they char your flesh
like thirty years of cigarette smoke.

her thunder breath
rolls down your esophagus
and makes gastric acid dance.

you write her poison off as a stomachache.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Sun Apr 12, 2015 4:42 am
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niteowl says...



11

like all good statues,
she was always worth returning to.



Not sure if this one is meant to stand alone or not. I'll have to revisit it.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:42 am
niteowl says...



Okay so here's my massive NaPo dump. I'm still behind (probably) but I have been scribbling outside of this thread.

First up is something that kind of started out as a song idea, but it morphed into something else

12. some love was meant for honesty

she blazes a trail of lipstick and secrets,
the truth gone stale long ago.
her husband likes pink but she prefers crimson
(she doesn't mind marking her sins, after all).

she forgets that vows were ever spoken
because wedding bells don't make your skin flush,
can't make you scream,
won't get you high

and so she chases joy
that lasts no longer
than her lipstick on his flesh.
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:46 am
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niteowl says...



13. a bedtime lament

Weariness embraces you
when you must sit up straight and listen closely,
yet when you invite her into your bed
as the night cloaks the world,
she runs away,
leaving you awake and shivering,
knowing she'll show up
at the worst time tomorrow
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

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I don't do time.
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