Caught in a dark place

Days and nights blend

Into an endlessly dull race;

Always think it's Tuesday

But it's literally any other day of the week

Everything fades to a monochromatic grey;

So tired when you wake up past noon

Prepare to be yelled at later

After all, you'll be giving up soon;

Heat melts your mind as old memories resurface,

The AC thrums but it's still too hot

Feels like you're got nothing, but all you lack is purpose

Here are one long poem and two haikus I wrote in Maine:

Looking out over the forest/A bird of pure black/Preens the silky feathers/On her back/The proud, majestic raven

She sits out on a branch/As the slim yet strong trees/Listen to wind's music/And dance to the breeze/Unafraid

While she fluffs her feathers/Another appears/Then one more/What do they hear?/The calls of a thousand birds

I sit here, observing/And see what I see/But the tall, lovely trees/Will not sway for me/When I hold my camera

~~~

Try hard as you may/Never will there be a day/With pictures of stars

~~~

With landforms and trees/The universe will not cease/To make me feel small 

These poems are beautiful, Wolfy! Thank you for sharing them with us. Chatterboxers, you are amazing poets! Please consider entering our July 2021 Cricket League poetry contest. The deadline to receive entries is July 25, and they must come via US Mail. So mail soon. For the specific theme and rules, visit:

cricketmagkids.com/contests

Admin

Who knew losing arm

Could hurt so much?

Perhaps that's obvious,

But how was I

Supposed to know? 

Gazing up on blue and white,

I see stairsase in the clouds;

Is another Jacob being taught a lesson?

Even in this day and age... 

We never learn, do we? 

Bells toll

Mournfully;

Ominous

Gregorian Chants rise

And the dreary gray sky

Is filled with flecks of rain.

Two figures stand

Atop a high-rise building.

I love and hate what I know is about happen.

It is time for both those brilliant brains to rest.

First goes one.

Soon goes the other

By the hand of the youngest brother, no less.

Lonely.

That's what it is up here.

Too high above the ground to walk,

Too far below the sky to fly. 

Rain falls down, sad.

Bells sing their tragic tones. 

I exist alone

Up here.

Bound by my love and hatred of this world. 

Fall leaves change

Something about that makes me sad

But at the same time

I think it's for the better

And pretend to carry on just fine with life. 

How can I explain

The sense of loss and pain and sadness

You make me feel again?

I thought I had gotten used to a world without you

And yet, here you are.

Again.

680 years before when we last met.

It's odd isn't it, this doesn't seem to be our past.

Everything's too different.

I miss home.

But does such a place even exist?

I can't remember anymore, lost and wandering,

With nothing like a guiding star.

My heart thumps angrily and the prejudice and cruelties of this world.

I hate it.

But I love you.

That's why I'm still here.

That's why I carry on my dreary existence,

Literally invisible and unheard to those around me. 

Only you are left by my side.

But it's so lonely.

I miss the heartache and characters of our youth.

The dashing adventures, cultures mixing

Running from the sense of something,

Something bigger and scarier out there, just behind a curtain. 

We may be just as young again, but we've seen too much

Of this cold and hopeless world.

We know what's to come and can't forget

Or hide or run or wish for it to disappear.

When can we return home?

Where is home anyway?

Not this,

Lost in space, and more importantly, time.

We will always be different from the rest.

Alone, together.

Lost,

Oh-so-very lost.

I wonder how words we say

Can affect others in so many different ways.

Take simple compliment,

A half-hearted phase of encouragement

And suddenly

It means so much more,

To someone

Struggling somewhere out there.

A casual off-handed joke to you

Breaks the fragile spirit

Of someone across the world or right next door.

Something you don't even remember saying

Is one day in print

As a quote of the best encouragement or worst detriment.

The world swirls around me

An angry chaotic mess

Maybe there's something else in that fog

But as for me, I can't see it

People achieve their dreams

And stand atop, a figurehead for all the rest

They get awards and praise and do their best

And stir up something jealous

It's not like I never got any awards or praise,

It's just, that was in the past

Far away ago, before I had direction or purpose

Now that I have what I want to do my efforts feel meaningless 

And I hate that envy inside

I try to squash it but it always once again rears its ugly head  

So I cut myself off even more than I am--

A soul born connected by a strand,

As a child driven even farther to the brink

And with an adult's agency severed completely.

But hey, are you finally proud of me?