"encouragingly" poems
I was raised by a mentally ill father.
Because there is comfort in numbers,
I, too, was afflicted by a similar disorder.
It’s difficult to separate the person from the sickness,
Sometimes impossible.
Sometimes we become the shadowy monster,
Embrace it with wilted roses,
Knowing too well that of everything else,
The disorder will still be there,
Waiting.
My shadow has been dormant.
My father’s is still active,
Seeking.
Sometimes when we meet it’s like a perfect storm,
A tornado of comfort.
Someone understands the climate.
I take my father’s hand encouragingly,
He turns to run, squirrely,
The shadow greets me with open arms.
I love the shadow as much as I love the man.
After all, there is comfort in numbers.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 4:50 AM UTC
In a bustling bus lingered a vacuous seat.
'She's impure,' they proclaimed; indiscreet.
The poor woman wept- shedding tear after tear.
'Don't sit next to her,' they warned with a sneer.
The wide-eyed girl looked on in curious worry,
As the fierce conductor tried to make the woman scurry.
The amused passengers laughed on encouragingly
As he tugged at her bag, her hand, even her dignity.
Spurned by the hospital; in society she had no place
For she had not the money to be referred to as a 'case'.
Her sole possessions- her disease and her fright.
The doctorless patient drowned in her ceaseless plight.
Melancholia stared deep into the girl's wide eyes.
They welled with desolation as she heard the cries.
Her dream of being a doctor would soon come true,
But oh doctorless patient, what will become of you?
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
His finger tapped the book,
Encouragingly and gentle,
That old finger,
That had pulled triggers in the war,
That had touched his girls in tender ways,
He gave me a smile and tapped again,
Sunlight shining in his grey hair,
In his beautiful eyes,
I haven't looked down yet,
And he was still tapping,
I was thinking of his many crinkles,
Smile creases and frown wrinkles,
The day was ending,
I should leave soon,
I should look down,
But mesmerizing, was his teeth,
And I stared and counted,
And I observed his ear hairs,
And nose hairs, and beard hairs,
But the old man tapped again,
On the blank strathmore page,
I haven't drawn him yet,
His green eyes fail with the falling of the light,
I hurriedly drew him,
He paid for my work,
A work that dissatisfied,
So I went home,
And wrote about him,
Filling a page and a half.
from firefly
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
The angels come more frequently now,
Their visits like spring primroses,
Full of five-petalled, open-palmed beauty and quiet energy,
An unexpected surprise.
For they will come again; persistence is a virtue, it seems,
And I’m not quite lost yet.
They smile encouragingly and their sparkling laughter fills the void;
It lingers in the memory.
And with them I can breathe full-lung and be joyful,
Shout and dance naked in the street if I like.
Or dye my hair blue.
But of course I don’t.
Because for now I am content to let them fill my soul with wonder,
To be their angel in return,
And to wait for next year’s blooms.
Copyright © 2013 Vicki Watson
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
The people say we
Are a force to be reckoned with.
Malleable minds
Keeping up with the
Times.
A comfortable content,
Encouragingly hell-bent.
Let's change lives
Or even just one.
Right
before this feels done.
A force to be reckoned with,
You and I.
Let's set something afloat,
Before it's time
For me to
Rip out
Your
Throat.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
The thought of you holds sleep at bay
Do you ever think of me?
I think of you
In landscapes I wander
Dreamless and weary
Searching for that familiar face
Remember how we laughed the first date?
You smiled encouragingly as I opened up
I remember the second
And you opening the door not just the car
But the one to your soul
And the third when you held me close, and kept the cold at bay
When your lips first touched mine
I was shocked and felt so alive
It was that day. That evening.
That was the last day you
Shared your love with me
You were slow to respond
And I felt like a hit and run victim
You order me to move on
And I an obedient soldier,
Do my best
But I just wander lost in love or lust
I don't know
Visions of you flicker across my eyes
Painting the sky in shades of red and blue
I am shell shocked,
My pulse racing to unknown ends
And to make amends
Would it **** you?
To tell me why?
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the New Haven Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter.
Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do.
Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.”
“That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly.
“You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes.
“Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?”
Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate.
“You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly.
“It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted.
Handling university academics is largely a structural task.
All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time.
“You’ve got this,” I affirmed.
“Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.”
“It’s your best quality.” Leong observed.
Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days.
.
.
A song for this:
Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall
Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
Aug 25, 2024
Aug 25, 2024 at 1:31 PM UTC
Mary, the daughter of some parental friends, is on her high-school-senior college-tour and my mom (on Face Time) told me their plans called for them to be in New Haven over the weekend.
Mom, “Would you mind taking an hour to give her a campus tour?”
I rolled my eyes saying, “I barely know the place myself.”
She waited silently with obvious, parental patience.
“I’ve got a TON of homework,” I pleaded.
“I’d owe you,” she said, encouragingly.
I sighed, struggling with my new and heavy burden, “ALL right,” I groaned.
Mary and I know each other from hospital events we couldn’t avoid (her dad is an emergency surgeon) but we’ve never hit it off.
I take some pride in being able to talk about anything - from football to politics or movies to fashion but Mary’s one and only interest is guys.
Mary’s one of those girls who HAS to have a boyfriend - like there’s a municipal ordinance requiring one - and just about any guy will do. She didn’t even have to particularly like them but they had to be Instagram pretty.
So any time I’d see her (we didn’t go to the same school) she’d have a Tom or Ed or Frank in tow, filling that boyfriend requirement and due to the high boyfriend turnover rate, she’d constantly and embarrassingly flirt with other potential boyfriends right in front of Mr. Now. It was enough to shame my gender.
A typical Mary conversation:
“Are you dating anyone?” She’d ask.
“No,” I’d admit.
“You’re just shy,” she’d say, “You just need to put yourself out there.”
She was positive and encouraging, even in the face of increased competition.
“I used to be shy,” she revealed. Which I doubted very much.
Anyway, once they (her Mom joined us) were certified vaccinated, we got a student volunteer for a real Yale tour. I love the “Harry Potter” look of old campus. (COVID restrictions limit where visitors can go).
I find I already have a sense of “ownership” here and I secretly hope she ends up somewhere else. I waved as they drove off, wishing her a bucket of instagram smiles.
Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 9:36 AM UTC
Lips,
Corners turned upwards,
As they are softly pressed,
Against another gentle pair.
Part slightly,
Giggles slither out,
When tickled,
Aroused,
By a light breath.
Hands,
Intertwined,
Squeezing reassuringly,
Also encouragingly,
Move effortlessly,
To trace the structure,
And its importance,
Enticing the senses.
Done for,
Sealed the deal.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
A spun child I am, dizzyly geeked that im the last to get found, no peekaboos or hide N seek.
Finally invistable here juzt maybe
I might could finally stand out only enuff to fit in. When there you go xrayz invisibility
Opaque transparency watching you delightfully looking to see through me?
How dare you, dearly be encouragingly genuinely appreciative of these
Humbly honored diabolic mentalities.
Trying ever so fervently to not see me looking back at me in every mirror I see narcissisticly
The foreground is not sacred to me.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
“Everyone goes through this,” they say, comfortingly
“Everyone gets over it.” I hear, disheartened
“So many people care about you.” They say, encouragingly
“Don’t disappoint those who care for you.” I hear, dejected
“You’ve done so much to be proud of!” They say, smiling
“What happened to the you who did things?” I hear, terrified
“This happens to me all the time; don’t worry.” They say, reassuring
“Be better.” I hear. I’m not you. And I’m petrified.
“These things take time. Be patient.” They say, concerned
“Get over it already.” I hear, numb
“Ignore your brain trying to get you down.” They say, supportive
“Don’t trust yourself.” I hear. Save me. I’m not ok.
I’m afraid of my own feelings.
“This is normal.” They say.
I spend 3 hours just staring at the ceiling.
“Take it one step at a time.”
I feeling like I’m slowly withering away.
“Don’t give up!”
I’m just going through the motions everyday
“See? You’re getting better!” They say, cheerful.
For them, I try
“I’m fine.” I say, hesitant and fearful
They believe me, satisfied.
I’m a liar.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
The world I inhabited
was speckled with eyes-
malicious eyes, watching my every move-
it was a terrifying place.
I could feel that everything
was alive around me.
Everything had a heartbeat
and everything breathed its hot breath on me.
I wanted to hide
but the eyes were everywhere.
They were on buildings,
ingrained in trees,
peering through every ***** city window.
I ran as far as I could
until there was no where else to run.
I was as close to the sky as possible,
feeling the world's musty breath
rake through my hair.
The sky was dark and gray
and the clouds glared at me angrily,
wondering why I would venture so close to their territory.
I tried to tell them
that it was my last option,
there was no where else to run,
but they wouldn't listen.
Bumps
formed on my pale skin.
Goosebumps.
The dark clouds were pushed away by a cool breeze.
The sky cleared,
showing its bright blue face.
The only clouds left
were white and puffy.
They had faces,
but they were smiling at me.
I inspected the clouds closely.
Within each cloud were multiple faces-
they were the faces of every god, every deity, every spirit-
that ever was.
They smiled at me
and I felt my face forming a small grin.
I could feel the walls around me breathing,
I could see them inhaling and exhaling.
They were surrounding me,
protecting me like a father.
I glanced at the buildings that dotted the sky.
They smiled at me, too.
I could feel everything in the world around me
releasing feelings
and asking for me to do the same.
The eyes looked at me encouragingly,
coaxing me to join the world.
I breathed a deep breath,
in and out,
and felt the world do the same.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
up above the city
I am encouragingly
alone and a shutter
of bodies share the
passenger seat, a
deck of faces shuffled
in defining moments
motion blurred, framing
me,
here.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
January brings sweet pie crust promises,
so easily made and effortlessly broken.
While my sofa creaks beneath good intentions,
As carrot cake still declares itself a healthy salad.
Gym memberships
and weight loss programs multiply,
like my calorie-counting motivation,
that I will probably grow bored of by spring,
as I swear that this year I will get fit.
Just like last year,
and the year before.
My to-do lists stretch longer than my Christmas credit card bill,
while the front cover of my new planner encouragingly exclaims
Get organised!
This will probably lay forgotten by March,
next to my old dusty yoga mat.
Yet, another failed quest
for Zen and mindfulness.
But here I am again,
recycling hopes
like yesterday's Asti bottles,
as I believe in the magic of midnight.
When the calendar pages flip over
and suddenly,
everyone is engrossed
in the thoughts of New Year,
New me resolutions.
Like I'm supposed to become
A marathon-running
Smoothie-drinking
Organised
Book-reading
Healthy eating
Meditation guru
Who still can't resist
Tucking into pizza at midnight?!
Maybe this year I will just resolve
To be a little kinder to the me
Who tries
And fails
And tries again
And fails.
©️Lizzie Bevis
Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 1:26 AM UTC
INT. CENTRAL PERK - DAY
The Friends are all sitting on the couch, chatting and sipping their coffee. Joey bursts in, holding a large box.
JOEY: Hey, guys! Check it out! I got a new entertainment system!
MONICA: (sarcastically) Oh, great. Another giant box to clutter up our tiny apartments.
JOEY: (ignoring her) I need your help setting it up. Who's in?
Chandler, Phoebe, and Ross all raise their hands, but Rachel and Monica look hesitant.
RACHEL: (doubtfully) I don't know, Joey. This sounds like a lot of work.
JOEY: (encouragingly) Come on, Rach. It'll be fun! And I'll even order us a pizza.
MONICA: (smiling) Okay, I'm in.
Rachel reluctantly agrees, and the Friends start setting up the entertainment system. Joey pulls out a large instruction manual and starts reading out loud.
JOEY: (confused) Okay, it says we need to connect the yellow cord to the blue input, but I don't see a blue input.
CHANDLER: (sarcastically) Well, Joey, have you tried turning it off and on again?
PHOEBE: (jokingly) Maybe you need to sacrifice a chicken to the technology gods.
Ross, Monica, and Joey start arguing over the proper way to set up the system, while Chandler and Phoebe start making up ridiculous solutions. Rachel sits off to the side, looking amused but uninterested.
RACHEL: (smiling) You know, I have an idea. Let's just call the Geek Squad and let them deal with it.
JOEY: (defeated) Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll call them tomorrow.
MONICA: (frustrated) Ugh, I can't believe we wasted all this time on nothing.
PHOEBE: (smiling) Well, at least we got to spend time together.
CHANDLER: (nodding) And we'll always have the memories of that time Joey accidentally shocked himself with the power cord.
Joey looks embarrassed as the Friends all laugh, and the camera fades out on their good-natured teasing and banter.
Feb 15, 2023
Feb 15, 2023 at 2:12 PM UTC
Daily breeze blows through the bedroom window
Parts through your lips across my neck
I smell your perfume upon your pillow
We say good morning and I love you
Then "coffee?" "Coffee."
The second thought that runs through our heads
I open shades, contracts our pupils
Heavily dilated from the night before
We sip and smile in our sunlight
Love, like a cartoon, so unreal
But relatable in every way
I'm the coyote, you're the runner
You stick around within my grasp
Then encouragingly pull away, forcing me to get better
So when I fall off that cliff
I fall in love all over again.
...daily breeze blows through the bedroom window
Parts through my lips and then runs cold
Your perfume has faded from your pillow
I lay alone and say I love you
The coffee, a memory now burnt and black
I'm the coyote, you're the runner
Who was snatched up by the wolves
So shocking and so sudden
I'll never fall again.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC