Confessional Poetry - Hello Poetry

1d

Qualyxian Quest

I'm no one important
No great philosopher
An amateur poet
A bipolar dad

Life is Absurd
America is Ignorance
55 and falling
Sweet Sir Galahad

Sleep late and long
Troubled
Lonely
Sad.

6d

Skylark 12

A Week's Worth of Quarantine

I:

I searched an hour for my pjs
so that I could go to bed .
Quarantine has blurred my days
and wreaked havoc with my head.
A quick glance in the mirror,
I see my sanity foregone.
The pajama search abruptly ended.
I already have them on.

II:

My office space keeps moving
as I go from call to call.
Piano practice sends me upstairs
behind our bedroom wall.
Then in comes mom with Ana
to put her down for nap.
So I descend the stairs again.
End this quarantine ASAP!

III:

I’m rowing down the Schuylkill
in a race against a crew.
The art museum is up ahead
and the Rocky statue too.
Now I run across a mountainscape
and through an Alpine town.
Such fantasies! They fill my head.
I hate exercise in lockdown.

IV:

Go out to eat and see a show
the Governor just said.
It’s back to normal and back to school
so get out of your bed.
Stay in your house or six feet apart
is no longer the rule.
I dream of this most every day.
Oh! Today is April Fool.

V:

Office life is underrated
with meetings face to face.
You can criticize a job done poor
and put them in their place.
But in quarantine while on the phone
you dare not scream and yell.
The boss, she’ll hear you acting up.
She’ll come and ring your bell.

VI:

“Thank God it’s Friday,”
has lost all of the appeal.
For tomorrow will be like today
without a different feel.
I wonder did we lose,
the weekend or the week?
Is boredom about to go away?
Or is it even close to peak?

VII:

Log scale graphs are useful
for showing change in rate.
In visualizing the second derivative
they really work out great.
But if you want real people
to understand your math.
Please use less than/greater.
When you project contagion path.

Nov 5

Pax

Joker

I am never
the comedian,
But I am
the joke.

When I was growing-up, I was different, in a way i speak, walk or talk. Yet physically i was just a normal boy growing up knowing nothing on how the society works. I was confident to what i like and don't like, then been bullied or humilated by doing it, because it was not the norms for a typical boy. Then I became fed up with it, that in my teenages years i learned to be alone and be alone, trying to fix something that didn't need fixing. Life goes on in my teenage year, still being bullied until in my collage years that i learned which to ignore and to which to defend. In result to all this i became a loner, choosing wisely when to socialize when needed to or else i rather be alone. That is why also i never care finding someone anymore, i find comfort in my own space. Being Old alone is not such a bad thing anymore, we all go there in some point in time.

To conclude my personal journey, I guess being bullied physically or emotionally has/have a long time effect. It will scar you, but it will never defined you, you'll get strong as you understand the viewpoint in perspective, life gets better when you know how to live a good life.

#bullying #beingdifferent #pax #joke #comedian

Nov 3

RyanGeoffreyHayward

dice throw

I'm sick of threats
chasing death alive,
there's a constant threat
that I am sure to die,
I'm sick of shadows
and of rolls of the dice,
I'm as in-grained of rice
never dice to roll twice.

Oct 20

Bardo

Shooter

I dreamt I was just walking down a street
When suddenly a lot of people came rushing out of this building
They were all shouting madly “Shooter! Shooter!!
They were running past me quick…frantically screaming
I thought I better start running too
So I turned around and started running after them, following them
But I felt somehow that I was slower than they were
A lot of people seemed to be passing me out
I thought I must be really falling behind
I felt I was bound to get hit…bound to get shot
I was almost waiting for the bullets to rip into me
I thought maybe the shooter himself was coming…maybe he was right behind me
Then suddenly I heard these shots ring out just like firecrackers
I thought maybe I should fall down and pretend I was dead
If only I could rub some blood on my face…on my head.

Another nightmare.

#panic #running #fear #terror

Oct 18

Immortality

K.

I know,
I'm not good,
No need to point it out.

Tears in eyes,
waiting to fall,
lump in my throat,
trembling hands,
and an insulated, aching heart.

"Don't cry",
"You're strong",
"We'll be the best too"
the minds says,
facing the quiet mirror,
having tear-edge eyes.

I know,
I'm not good,
No need to mock.

My younger sister is an all-rounder. Beauty, intelligent, A++ student, brain, good behaviour, sense of humour, communication, etc. which I am fail at.
I am just a ugly stupid girl having high temper, whom most people dislike.
Does that affect me? Maybe................or maybe not.
She doesn't to point that out, indirectly sarcastically. I know she is the best among out and childish too but I have feeling too, even though I just shrug them off. She may say that for fun, to lighten the mood but still.................... She is a lot childish innocent cute too, but still.................... don't say that please. Please.

Oct 13

CJ Sutherland

Internet Vandalism

7 AM this morning the Internet went out.
Streaming TV stopped iPhone too.
All day long, Internet outage wreaked havoc on the shops in the city.

Stores could not process ATM cards
Banks could not give you any money
Incoming outgoing calls dropped
We don’t realize how dependent we are

Spectrum, quoted verbatim
Internet disrupted in Redding due to vandalism. Spectrum confirms.
This is the second time in three months

Spectrum Internet down, in Shasta County
they continue “our fiber lines were cut
this morning as a result of vandalism in Redding. Affecting communities through

Shasta County. Due to the vandalism we
had to repair more than 850 strands of fiber optics to restore our service. Outage from
7 AM fully Restored 4:30 PM”

I speculate This experiment was an exercise
The effects of pulling down just Internet,
without taking out the power.
Without Internet use, the city fell

The funny thing is, the three notifications I received from Spectrum. I did not get until after the Internet was fully restored.
Not trying to be a conspiracy theories

One cannot help but wonder if this has anything to do with voting early?
Or was this a trial run for
a bigger outage on election day?

Bank your vote
Make a note
Vote early get it done
Tell your friends, everyone

Inspired songs
1) The telephone line
by electric light Orchestra(ELO) 1976
2) operator by Jim Croce 1972
3) telephone Man by Meri Wilson 1977

BLT Websters word of the day Challenge
Verbatim 10-12-24
It means in the exact words quoted

Footnote
Vandalism took down our Internet both times for the greater part of 10 hours or more. We don’t realize how many things are connected to the Internet. All of our banking services, smart houses. The list goes on. Don’t wait till the last minute and then not be able to vote because the system is down. I think of all the States involved in these hurricanes and the voting polls are gone. I’ve always voted on election day but I’ll vote early this time to make sure my vote counts. The last election I got a notification voting paper registration for my father. Who passed away in 2015 I took the ballot into the booth and told then my father never lived here I was in charge of the estate don’t know why I would get A Ballot for him in my jurisdiction he was from Southern California. They took the paperwork and I got a notice verifying he voted. Yes my dead father voted five years after he died. When I contacted them I was told oh it happens really
Maybe that’s why there’s so much disbelieve in The voting process, and in our government.
I haven’t given up, hope that we can make it a better system and a better government.

Oct 13

Coleen Mzarriz

The Shallows and the Shadows

I'm not as soft as a swan gliding into the poet's lake. I'm not as graceful as a ballerina waltzing in the arena. I am not as calm as the trees attending to your whimsical needs. I am built on ruins; I am something that has been running for decades, and I still think about the house keys I abandoned near the forest; they open the portal to your house. It was my favorite.

I am full of words,
Rotten poetry,
Full of work,
Empty memory.

"I don't know what to write anymore," I whispered. I was a romantic maniac. In me were growing daisies and burnt coffees, orange juices and promised salvation.

It's a funny little detail; now, it's all mishaps and mishandled poetry.

Through the shallows and the shadows, I screamed in horror, and then I felt the mockery of longing.

as I age, I spend less and less reading books that will keep me at night until dawn. I am slowly forgetting how to form words, and my love for writing is nothing but a fond memory kept inside my favorite box. now, every poem that I write is just as empty as me; it’s lacking. it’s boring and awkward. it’s a dream I keep repeating on and on. it was once my favorite escapade, a heaven; now, it’s all nothing but frugal chaos.

it’s cruel, isn’t it? I was once promised a salvation. silly little me. my innocence’s gone.

it can never be regained. unless I stupidly long and yearn and long and yearn.

if not for nostalgia, I would not write anymore. but I was just a girl who happens to be a slave, and it hurts to be the one who remembers.

#longing #poetry #coffee #salvation #romance #memory #words #forest #shadows #promises

Oct 13

Taru Marcellus

Cotopaxi

amnesia finds me searching for what is lost
                    value or sentiment
                         the words           are               the first            thing           to
                                                                                                                     slip
each
at some point
    originated from these hands
their texture is unfamiliar now
though it's only been one day

full-on compositions are
released to the void
     luckily clouds hold some vapor

I hope it rains tomorrow

forecasts say it's unlikely I will
ever see you again
your disappearance hasn't even occurred
   (to me)   yet

dust will fall
but will ashes
                          this is a lesson in fighting for

I sighed it all away
  before any instinct to clinch
       or swing
          or break

am I better composed than my poetry
simply because I accept
          without questioning

the formulas are lost
      the charge is lost
            the message is lost
yet I still hope to discover myself

amnesia will remind me tomorrow
of another item vanished
but today I plotted out
a future
and nothing was missing

My backpack was stolen earlier this week and its contents included my notebook, my laptop, my dad's ashes and bunch of other loose materials. My first instinct was to release

Oct 12

S R Mats

One Who Doesn't Listen

I want to transform you
Making you like new
Sparkling with a pink glow

Difficult things tainted you
Turned you almost blue
With a sickly pale

A bad smell clings
A smell of death
I want to make you live

But as the French say:
“Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre.” -
“There’s no one as deaf as the one who doesn’t want to listen.”