Young Writers Society

Well, I was a bad girl who didn't technically write a poem yesterday. I didn't get to writing one until 1 am last night. So I'm doing that one and another one.

April 12: Untitled (for now)

This place disgusts me,
with the constant alarms
and pungent odors.

The landscape feels
as gray as my uniform
and I wonder how I've
survived this long.

Suddenly, you walk by,
interrupting my bleakness
and I remember how.

April 13: Perfection (my apologies in advance for the angst)

I was born to please you,
but it's fruitless even trying
for you will never be satisfied.

One word, one wrong move
and all my efforts
are toppled.

You wonder why I cry,
but who wouldn't
if you place an
impossible load
on their backs?

You claim that you love me,
but I know you won't
until the day I reach
perfection.

Once again, I'm doing double-duty on this post, but at least I wrote one yesterday. Even if it sucked.

April 14: The End

One by one,
the stars exploded,
darkening the night sky.

We laughed
as we watched
the lights go out,
never believing
that ours would as well.

Now our flesh boils
in the heat,
our remains
staring in shock
as our former friend
engulfs the world
we once called home.

April 15:

Today I drowned my ears
in music that brought me
back to more innocent days.

I sang along,
suddenly dreaming
in sandboxes once more,
never understanding
why the sand fell through
when I tried to hold on.

In that moment,
I could ignore
the law that says
all processes
are irreversible.

I've been thinking about this idea for a while, but just now decided to try a poem about it.

April 16th: A is for Atrophy

She robbed her friends
of the words they had
constructed the night before.

Sliding them onto the
teacher's desk,
she won the praise,
remaining silent
as her friends earned
misdirected accusations.

The report card reeked
of the finest letter
now stripped of its pride.

She forced a smile
as she glanced at it,
then stowed it away,
never to tell a soul.

Well it's five minutes past the "deadline" to write my April 17th poem, which gives me some great inspiration.

April 17: The Procrastinator's Lament

Oh my!
How will I
get this all
done in time?

I tried to warn you.
You ignored me.

I couldn't help
that I was busy!
The to-do list is
more like a
to-do bookshelf now!

You could try
clearing out
last year's to-do's.
It's too late for those.

I know, I know!
But that will
leave me no time
for today's chores!

You had time yesterday.
Was Solitaire really
that important?

Yes it was!
I had to clear
my scrambled-egg mind,
take a five-minute vacation
from this mess!

You could have made it
five minutes cleaner.

Response to April 15 --

Oy, I'm more than fond of it--there's no particular catch in the words or flow; and the images are like its sandbox. Childhood old, and young. ^_^ Er, hopefully that sensible enough as a remark.







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