NaPoWriMo – Day Nine: The Elephant Ant

You were the elephant in the room apparently.

The black seething mass of storm clouds

clustered over this house

keeping daylight out and darkness in.

 

Each room creaking under the pressure

of keeping you contained

when every corner was filled to bursting

and the foundations heaved

and the windows splintered

and even the roof tiles popped free

one by one

in the hopes you could be bled away.

 

You covered everything past, present,

future.

Who could have blamed me

for those days I molded the mattress

to the shape of a collapsing spine,

when it was your weight

cursing every vertabrea,

turning my duvet to lead.

 

Your collapse was so much slower,

a reluctance I’d failed to show

when my strength shed like snake skin

and you took it for your own,

as a reminder

that you couldn’t be vanquished,

only temporarily tamed.

 

Recently, you fit inside a matchbox.

The size of an ant,

I carry you from place to place

in pocket or purse,

near enough to feel you scurrie

across my skin

when the sun skims behind the clouds

and shadows reign.

 

I know you are searching

for the gaps in my seams,

the frayed edges that will let you in

where you can grown again,

back to the size you were

when I was the insect

wedged beneath your boot.

 

It’s very possible you will.

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The Blue Days

Some days the curtains won’t close tight enough,

the mattress won’t sink deep enough

and despite clutching at the duvet,

pinning it around desperate limbs,

drafts still snake their way in.

On those days it doesn’t matter how tight

I screw my eyes shut,

the light is always there behind my lids,

prickling, waiting, demanding

that I emerge and acknowledge it.

Those were the days I didn’t leave my bed.

The ones I missed class and didn’t explain why.

A time I don’t ignore,

but I still can’t name in confidence.

I let it sit in my memory

like storm clouds on a horizon,

not close enough to worry on,

but a reminder that the sun doesn’t always shine

and I haven’t always managed to smile

instead of cry.

Daily Prompt: Harmonize

We’re not always in harmony you and I.

Some days my notes fall flat,

slip down the stanzas,

don’t match the tempo

thumping on right next to me.

When I feel you vibrating in my bones,

so close it almost hurts,

yet my own sounds come out as broken

scratching things

my throat aches to match you.

My lungs burn to swell and bellow.

To reach the stage you’re standing on

unaware I’ve sunk behind the curtain.

But I know I have to wait the darkness out.

Fight to find the spotlight again.

 

via Daily Prompt: Harmonize


I’ve not really been writing over the last few months so I’m not sure how this poem will go down. I might be a bit rusty. For some reason I just haven’t been able to sit down and write properly for most of 2017 so I’m hoping this post will mark the start of getting myself back into the habit of getting those words down on paper and doing something with my time.

Constructive criticism is always welcome so if you have any thoughts on how to make this piece a better then please type away in the comments below. It’s amazing how much my writing has improved since I started this blog and the comments I’ve got over the years have been just as much of a help as the practice.

“Why does this writer not get more views?”

Have you ever asked yourself that question? I would have thought that it would be a common one to crop up, especially if you’re someone like me spending infinite amounts of time trawling through websites such as Deviant Art, WordPress.com and Fanfiction.net.

I have even been on the receiving end of astonishment from some. Random comments cropping up on whatever piece I’ve recently published, on whichever site I’m using, the author bamboozled by the fact my stats have never really taken off at any great rate. 

Now I know I can write, it’s taken some time for me to listen to the insistant voices in my ears, (namely one of my best friends Jad) but I’ll now admit that I can write pretty dam well. I just haven’t achieved large numbers of readers.

The thing is, I find it bothers me more when I find incredible writing by other people and the reading stats are low. When my own stats plummet, I’m fairly comfortable in the knowledge that there are a group of people out there who I can rely on to enjoy the writing I upload, and they will tell me if they don’t think it’s as good as it could be.

Admittedly, If you trawl through writing sites on a regular basis, you’ll find some atrocious stuff. I have to be in an incredibly good/patient mood to open up my Deviant Art  notifications and work my way through them one by one. More often or not I’ll delete anything that doesn’t grab my attention in the first few lines. This is purely down to limits on my free time and the fact that some of the writing that crops up in my notifications is truly terrible.

Especially when it comes to poetry I find myself reading what seems to be the same thing over and over again, leaving me to wonder if there is any understanding that depression does not have to be the only theme in poetry.

Of course there are also the diamonds that you find hiding in the piles of fool’s gold. These are the writers and artists who keep me from deleting my entire notifications inbox the moment I log into DA and give me hope for the future of writing.

Sometimes I simply like the thought that someone has put into a piece of work, such Akeesha909 who wrote ‘Inspiration’.

Red, Blue, Green
             Every colour becomes a thought
????!!!!!????!!!!
             Every thought becomes a painting
Oil paint, Water paint
             Every painting becomes a masterpiece  
Mona Lisa, Adam and Eve
             Every masterpiece is hung in a museum
The Vatican, The Louvre
             Every museum is filled with colour
Purple, Yellow, Orange
             And every colour becomes a thought

http://akeesha909.deviantart.com/art/Inspiration-300409076

The poem may not be perfect by any means, but I like the way it’s been set out and the theme running through it is refreshingly original. Publishing to Deviant Art is not about putting up works which are polished to perfection, or should be plastered across the pages of best selling novels or anthologies. It is supposed to be a stepping-stone, and a place where you can share what makes you happy and what your passion can achieve. 

Of course there are pieces which tackle the more worrisome issues such as depression, addiction and grief incredibly well. I can cope with reading these and there are some which are fantastically put together and can really connect with a reader. Prose such as ‘147’ by sense-and-stupidity does go some of the way to proving to me that these issues can be taken on and presented, without following the awful cliché’s that seem to litter the online world.

However, one of my favourite pieces of the moment has to be ‘Emily’ by inkedtea. The piece was right at the bottom of my pile of notifications this week, and almost brought me to tears after I read it, (take from that what you will.) Of course I then had to check out her gallery, and thankfully found that she has a beautiful collection of work that is just as wonderful as my initial impression.

All three of these writers have fairly low stats, yet their works contain something that I, at least, hold to be promising. I will defiantly be keeping an eye out for future developments and I advise you all to do the same. The links are there in the text, get clicking and reading, you know you want to.

 

(I hold no claim to the works of these writers, I simply wanted to share my appreciation for their work and talent.)