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What's the worst that could happen?
I don't want to know,
but I think that I'll likely
find out, even though
I've done all I can
and I hope for the best.
I just can't help feeling
there's something I've missed.
My poem for day 2 of the April Poem A Day challenge.
Today’s prompt: Write a best case or a worst case poem.
Of course, I had to choose worst case. lol
At this point, it seems pointless
to even bother sleeping.
Before I even realize it,
the daylight will come creeping.
Forcing me to do something
I've scheduled far too early
and to grow increasingly,
irreparably surly.
I’m, once again, taking part in the April Poem A Day challenge on the Poetic Asides blog.
Today’s prompt: Write a morning poem.
John H Maloney Sep 2018
Everything seemed perfect,
it just all fit into place.
That is, until the day it slowly
blew up in my face.
I should have know much better,
seen it coming from afar,
but we never truly understand
how blinded that we are
by hope and need and every void
we just can't seem to fill.
However much you feed them,
they just get hungrier still.
I'd like to think I've finally learned
this lesson once again,
but I'm sure that I will probably
be back here now and then.
"The less emotional work that you can farm out to things outside of yourself, the less likely they are to be interfered with by things that you cannot control." - Taliesin Jaffe
John H Maloney Aug 2018
Caught unawares
and unable to deal
with a foolish illusion
that I thought was real.
A lapse in composure,
a loss of control.
A lifelong anomaly
taking its toll.
John H Maloney Aug 2017
Stray tangents weaving in and out
of conscious comprehension.
Far too many data points
demanding my attention.
Overloaded, overwhelmed
and over everything.
Whatever sense I may have left
hangs by a fraying string.
John H Maloney Jun 2017
tu da ve za sivi
va du vi za vada zo
veda ga va caduza
nevaga za du vo
badeva bada debu
yana ba va gada ze
remana ga redava
mada ga de bada ve
Written as an experiment in separating sound from meaning. Like instrumental music, all that matters is the sound of the syllables, but like the interpretation of a conventional poem, the exact sound of each syllable is up to the reader.
John H Maloney Jun 2017
This may not be all that,
but it just might be ok.
The right words are hard to find,
but I'll still write anyway.
From one line to the next,
pushing forward bit by bit,
without much else to say
so I guess that this is it.
I've been in a bit of a slump for the past couple of weeks so I decided to write about it and it led to the first piece that I've been able to finish in that time. Fortunately, I like how it turned out.
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