dreaming of/wishing on

lately, lately 

Ok here's yesterday's- blackout poetry. This is from a newspaper article about Princess Diana, and it really makes no sense at all, I just wanted to draw some crystals.

flukes (interconnection)

i. there was some

fluke in my creation

some chance and

some beaten odds

i have my grandpa's

smile

dimples in my cheeks,

a fluke in the DNA

throughout

my body

my XX chromosomes

make me who i

am

i would never know

you if not for

my 50% probability

ii. "i am made

from the people

before me"

their charcoal

hair wind-whipped

on the sea-boat

passage

"i am a part of you"

"and you are a part of me" 

Note: I'm actually going to explain the poem because it was under the theme "yourself" and I want it to make sense. So this part "my XX chromosomes / make me who i / am" is basically saying that I'd be a totally different person for sure if I was born male, because I would probably be very into football and wrestling like my dad (who played/coached both for many years), I would probably never even discover that I like art (or Cricket!) and would possibly be a big jerk (probably because I'd hang out with that crowd) I don't know, it's just a thought that I have. So, yeah. Thanks for reading.

This is yesterday's. I didn't write one on Friday. 

This wasn't very inspired, but it was all I had so here it is anyway! (The thing about me is that...I'll be doing something completely unrelated to poetry, and then a line will pop into my head and I'll scribble it down and then more lines will start coming and I turn it all into a poem. And then it's like my creativity is exhausted and I don't write another for days, or weeks.)

This is for the first prompt:

DNA 

i. cemented into my structure, the building blocks of my

existence consist of: writing art friendships family love love trees wind water

hope hope joy

these things are woven into me like

twisting strands of DNA--is suppose they are

DNA because they make me who i am.

ii. i believe in life happiness laughter

fresh air and stars and running i believe in nature,

in sunsets, in ocean waves. these things are essential to my being.

aaand I couldn't come up with a good ending for it either. Oh well. 

Here's today's. This is for the second prompt. 

~~

there used to be blue skies,

blue skies green grass brown trees. these days we wake up to

smoke obscuring everything,

can't open our windows darling because the air's too toxic.

technology everywhere and that's not necessarily

a good thing

now we're confined to our houses,

we can't go out although i wouldn't want to

anyway. it's all cold metal and pavement and dry, crumbling dirt.

whatever happened to our beautiful world?

it's taken over by manmade structures, toxic

pollutiion, robots. but i still remember

the old days, when you could run with the

wind, climb trees, swim in the ocean. fall

into the grass and lie there. but now

there is no grass, the ocean is just a puddle,

the trees are artificial and

the wind leaves a metallic taste in my mouth.

everyone says we've improved, our

technology is better than nature but i disagree.

i get so nostalgic sometimes.

and yet, maybe if we try hard enough, we can patch up our earth. repair it, rebuild it. bandage

up the earth where it's hurting.

there is still hope. 

I really love the blackout poetry! 

I wrote two poems on the same subject (originally for the Poetry Contest), and I was originally only going to post the second here, but I guess I'll post both anyways.

REFLECT

The farm hatched 

from an eggshell of sky 

on a grey, breathless afternoon. 

I can see the places

that the shadows once dragged 

the yellow-tin tractor shed 

and white plastic covered hay bales

down into the softest dirt

that springs up and rolls outwards

after a tractor has cut through it.

Grey sky and green water

come together over the sleeping pond

I can see where the clouds meet the tree line

and dissolve into nothingness

wondering if this is another 

forgotten afternoon

in a line of my favorite hues of cessation. 

REFRACT 

My least favorite days

line up in a list of repressed afternoons

where I can dissolve into nothingness

and see where the clouds meet the tree line

and a black sky rolls over the rippling pond

while soft dirt springs up and rolls outwards

from behind a dragging tractor. 

The sun highlights the yellow tin roof

of the tractor shed, and white plastic

covering new hay bales by the road. 

I wait to catch my breath

watch the sky crack open

over the reflecting farm

and wonder why I keep doing this.  

This is a poem starting with the first line of a song, it's called Vanilla Pines by Tow'rs and you should listen to it because it is one of my favorite songs right now!! My friend, who saw this band live at a music festival near where I live, told me about it, so I decided to write this poem about her. I also added some lines from the middle of the song throughout the poem, (also, you may not understand the title, it's the read recipts or whatever they are called you get when someone reads your text) It's super long, and I'm making it longer now, sorry!

read 2:09 AM

"tell me who i'm not-

when it becomes

so hard to type out

a text to tell

you i'm alright"

maybe when summer

ends you'll fall off

the spiral

because there's too

much space in your

skull to

fully function right now

it all started with

unrequited love

he was the start of the fall

i understand that

feeling

(one that can't be described in a text message)

and I understand that

because no one loves

me back either

"who taught us such lies"

i thought all their

sideways glances

meant something too

i guess the rush

of hide-and-seek after hours

and the freckles

on the back of his neck

got you, too

my brain is a magnet and so is yours

i know what you're feeling

(we can't run)

"this love is all

we have

without it

we are nothing"

so just

text me when

you can 

Here is a poem from yesterday. It was supposed to follow the 'me' theme, but... I don't know. XD

--------- 

A song about me

Wouldn’t be written in a key,

But rather in a mode

Somewhere between minor and Major.

The notes ranging

Low to high

Alto two to soprano one

Shifting between lilting minor thirds

Dissonant seconds

Burning sixths.

It would become an orchestra,

Sometime after the first nine seconds,

Growing and growing and growing

Voices swelling

Dynamics whispering in and out

Loud, soft

Large, small.

It would trespass into unknown territory,

Cadences never before explored

Strange chords placed at specific moments,

The intervals changing as fast as emotions,

These days. 

Listening, eyes fill with tears

Hearts beat fast

Palms sweaty,

This music is inside you;

It is you. 

It would tell of love

Heart break

Struggle

Joy

Simplicity,

The usual

But unusual.

It would incorporate a series of notes,

A melody

Never heard before,

Something particular to

Me

And my life.

The way I live

The things I do

The words I speak

All twisted into one beautiful piece

A living, breathing being

Pulsing as one,

Laughing and crying

Salty and sweet

Wrapped in the music

And when the last striking chord

Slowly sinks back into non-existence,

Or rather, post-existence,

And the last consonant of the chorus

Is perfectly articulated

Shadowed, sweeping 

And it is over; 

Sitting there, stunned, in the sudden silence

It would be finally knowing

Without a doubt

Just exactly

Who I am. 

Here's another to make up for some missed days. This one is for the 'yourself' Theme. It's kind of an emotional spew about some stuff I've been struggling with lately...so, yeah. 

untitled

I. look in the mirror

i’m not perfect

i have flaws

like we all do

because that’s what makes us

quite

human.

II. my childish confidence is

gone

clean

gone

i am no longer

what I once was

III. i am not the best 

and it sometimes leads me to think 

i’m the worst

but when i can only do

as much as i can do

why

am i still not

good enough

because it seems

like i’m no longer

good enough

and no matter how hard i try

i can’t be

IV. on a good day

i will take myself

for what i am

on other days

i am my worst critic

i beat myself up

V. feel sorry for me

because i’m upset

i need emotional support

but why do i always scream 

my problems 

in your ear

i’m bad for doing that

why do i feel sorry for myself

i ask

and then it starts again

a vicious cycle

with no end.

VI. you love me

you love me for who i am

but when will i learn 

to accept me

VII. this is why 

i am often 

my worst enemy.

Okay. I wrote this on Monday and I haven't written any since. At least I wrote three poems this round, instead of one. Except that I think that one poem was better than these three poems. Oh well; I'm going to keep doing this, so maybe I'll improve eventually.

The lines in this are from Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift.

~~

"but i got stronger, i got harder in the nick of time"

it's a battle of the wits--how

long can you

last? try to play with my emotions as much

as you want, i'll just find more ways

to block you out. you're just wasting

your time, don't you understand? but of course,

you'd never listen to me. i'll always

outsmart you,

you should know this by now. in this world, you have to

speak up for yourself. i'm giving

you a life lesson here, are you paying attention?

i see you slipping,

stumbling. out on the

battlefield hou have to

adapt. am i finally

bringing you down?