My life is better for having met you

I was hiding in a little room,

In a land that spoke in strange tongues.

You extended a hand, dragged me to light,

And taught me those new, twisted words,

Not by bringing in scholars or masters.

You just spoke soft enough, slow enough,

That I saw them in a different way,

And finally stopped being afraid.

The mirror was showing me such monsters.

Before you, I never realized that

It was actually only broken.

You didn’t tell me that, but I saw you

Looking into it once, and you

Angled yourself in such a strange way,

Something I never saw anybody do.

So I tried the same, and I found

The little smooth part of the glass,

And suddenly I was beautiful too.

You never changed anything,

But that didn’t stop you

From changing everything for me.

You never did anything,

But that didn’t stop things

From happening to me anyway.

You don’t have to have done something.

It’s just the way you are,

And what I understood of what you are,

And just a whole lot of luck in between.

So through no fault of your own,

My life is better for having met you.

Thank you. For your simple existence.

For my gratitude

It’s so much easier to notice

The things that go wrong –

They have this obstinate ability

To dig their claws into you

And command your attention.

Thoughts of good things, of luck,

Are instead slippery, finicky,

Exhausting to tackle and hold down.

And it’s understandable.

Gratitude is a strange process.

How do you know who to be thankful to?

Do you thank God? Which one? Is there any?

Fate? Should you thank for predestination?

Karma? But then isn’t it deserved?

Isn’t this becoming a little like

Thanking for receiving thanks?

The universe? The time? The world?

Are you grateful to yourself?

That would feel quite odd.

Maybe some of the choices

Would be quite brilliant,

Feeding back into themselves

In a spiral of virtues, contentment.

But I never could managed that,

Being polite to an abstract.

So I will be using you instead.

No, don’t look like that.

Don’t shrug your shoulders.

I’m not that far gone as to assume

That you hold the bridles of the universe.

I’m aware that I’m sowing discord,

Pushing you up on that golden pedestal.

But please understand

That you’re just a convenient icon

For forces that I don’t understand,

That might just as well not exist.

So let me be in my happy heresy,

Let me make you into the greatest god,

So I have a reason to bow at your feet

And find all the reasons

For which I should be thankful.

It’s the only way that I know

To cheat at this game of life

And always remember that I am happy.

I can’t pay you back

I can’t pay you back, not completely, not ever –

The world has given us different currencies

And there’s no measure that brings them together,

No way to ensure fair-play, certainties.

 

I think it was meant to work more like barter,

Exchanging things that we subjectively need,

A means to make us better, not smarter,

And paying forth, not back, should be creed.

 

Paying around could be another solution

When our means make no difference directly,

We can make elsewhere our contribution

And trust it will somehow find you correctly.

 

But certainly, the world is not made for paybacks,

It’s such a sad fate to stay and count debts

We learn, instead, to guess and fill in the cracks

And be happy with what one gives as one gets.

The 6 stages

There are six stages that I can tell.
Not sure what to call the first but an S –
A Slip, a Slide, or maybe
A Slow descent for some, sometime.
Then comes I for Ignore, when
It’s not that we pretend nothing is wrong
But genuinely ignore the simple possibility
That something might be amiss and go.
The third is the Acknowledgement,
A sweet momentary relief, not unlike
Being moody for a few long days
Until you have that Ah moment and realize
What time of the month it is,
And don’t feel quite so absurd anymore.
And in the rare lucky cases,
It also provides a solution to the pain,
In the same chocolate-y form.
The relief doesn’t last long enough though,
And on its heels comes swift Revolt,
A raging at the world and desperate search
For the misplaced cure that you once used.
It’s at least better than the
Blind stumble into disaster without cause,
And blaming someone gives you something to do.
Then comes Acceptance. Sweet and peaceful
As you remember the cure is only time,
And you finally allow it to yourself,
And instead of fixing things
You find make-do solutions
And relearn to work with what you have,
With a shorter fuse, an emptier canister
And only ever one day at a time.
I never managed to pinpoint Recovery
Despite its most obvious existence.
It’s impossibly gradual and fast at once,
And one day you just realize
That you look back and see yourself
At the top of that abysmally long trek up
And your smiles come easy once again.
That’s the process for me. S-I-A-R-A-R.
‘Seerer’, I suppose, it could be pronounced.
Not the most inspired acronym perhaps
But then again, maybe it was meant to be,
Because you need more seer(-er) powers
Than any possible oracle in mythology
To even remember there is ever an end
When you’re in the throes of that descent.

 

A/N: Some of you might have noticed lately from the subjects of my poems I seemed a bit down. I’m happy to say I’ve had a very quick A-R-A ark and am now much better. Thank you so much for your support and for always reading and commenting despite my changing moods. Love you all.

What do you guys think? Ever gone through this? Are your recovery stages the same when you go through a darker period, or are you doing things differently?

Celebrate it!

Keeping it short and sweet today.

Find a person to tell
Something good that happened to you today.
If you don’t have a person,
Shout your accomplishments until the air
Vibrates with their charge.
Nothing is too small or insignificant,
As long as it matters to you.
Be it winning a competition or only getting up,
Celebrate your victories.
Toast your success with your teddy bear,
Thank the universe,
And then close your eyes and thank yourself.
You’ll see that soon
You will have cause for non-stop celebration.

Thank you to all those who have been there for me, and that I got to share bits and pieces of me with. Saying the good things out loud gives them more power than you’d expect. You guys being in my life is the biggest accomplishment I have!

Anybody feel like sharing one of theirs? 🙂

A to Z April Challenge – Reflections

The A to Z Challenge asked participants to write posts throughout April, so that every day (aside from non-initial Sundays) would be based on themes starting with the corresponding letter (A on April 1st, B on April 2nd, etc.). I took part and completed the challenge, and now it’s reflections day!

A week has passed since April,
Between now and the end
of the alphabetic Challenge.
It was Definitely amazing,
Everything pushing me
to Find the determination
to write the Greatest poems
I never knew I Had.
I am so happy I took part,
even if Just for the fun
and the amazing Kick it gave.
I’d obviously Like, though
to see if it will also bring More
Numbers to by blog.
And Onwards to next year,
I definitely Plan to do it again –
if only it would come Quicker!
And this time Round
maybe I’ll take after Some
of the Terrific people I met
and Use it to push myself more.
Maybe instead of this Variation
I’ll try to Write on a theme,
make it a bit more Xtreme.
And… I’d be so happy if all of You
Will still be here for next year’s Zoo!

See what I did there? 🙂

Joke aside, I absolutely loved the challenge, and I was quite surprised at myself that I actually managed to keep up with writing a whole poem in a day, every day (Funny enough, I actually wrote a poem on this very theme yesterday – check it out here), and I hope I’ll be able to keep up the habit even without a challenge to fuel me on. I tried to think if I have a favourite between my writings but, interesting enough, despite the process that sometimes felt rushed, I absolutely love all of them and wouldn’t change a single thing. Maybe not everything about them is perfect, but I put a piece of my soul in each, and this is what I think poetry should be about. You can find them in the menu, under ‘A-to-Z April Challenge’ if you hadn’t yet and want to take a look. Thank you in advance!

I didn’t quite have the time to check out too many blogs that participated in the challenge, and I apologise for that, but I plan on doing the Road Trip (going through blogs and seeing the posts after the challenge closes for the year). Even so, I saw some brilliant posts and followed, and was followed in return by some really talented writers because of this. Thank you so much everybody for the support/comments/inspiration!

As I said, I definitely plan on doing this again next year (and hopefully find the Master list in due time and actually sign up properly). Hope you guys will enjoy the posts then too, and hopefully the ones before next April as well 🙂 For everybody who took part, you’re awesome, congratulations! (Everybody who reads my posts is awesome, obviously, but they are just slightly more in this regard only.) If you didn’t, I’d definitely recommend it for next year, it’s really great fun, and you might surprise yourself with what you come up. Lastly, even if you don’t, consider checking out the Master list and Daily lists (http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/) of those who did take part, there are amazing blogs and people out there waiting to be discovered.

Long post today, I know. But I’m done now! Love you all, and thank you for reading my blog.

Daily writing

I have written now for a while,
Day after day without pause.
I always knew that writing
Was to the cup that held my soul
The bowl that would capture the spills
And feed back into the waterfall
To keep me spinning the wheel.
But daily writing is something else,
There’s a special freedom to it,
A quality to the mere quantity.
Instead of worrying for a subject,
After a while, this has become
Just sitting down to compose
And letting my mind hook
Onto the most relevant topic.
Every day, it gets to choose
One thing to purge away from me,
Or one beautiful thought to share.
And I end up lighter of worries
And fuller of brighter things,
My poems prayers to the universe,
A grounding I have missed.
I think I forgot how this goes before,
Because it’s not about talent,
It’s not even about creativity.
It’s the simple joy of writing,
The primordial feeling
Of letting go and floating
In the amniotic fluid of your choice.
It’s just about freedom.

Flavour of fire

I can feel your proximity without turning to look,
Your presence blazing against my skin like a fire’s heat,
Your existence flaring into harder focus as night falls,
An insidious light against even closed lids.
Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for what you give me,
For thawing out my cold feet, to more boldly walk this world,
For lighting up my path to see the better opportunities,
But this is far from everything I want.

I want to undress and walk through the middle of your embers.
I want to completely plunge my hands into your heat,
So you turn my frozen body into molten liquid.
I want to lick your edges, to see if my senses scream
At the flame before or after I feel the taste of metal.
I want you to grab me, engulf me, blaze through me,
Until I either turn to ashes or become flame myself.

Oh, I know. I know you are fire made flesh.
I know a single touch could scorch me to my bones.
Don’t waste your breath. It’s not that I don’t hear your warnings.
And it’s not that I don’t care either.
I do care. I care enough to be entranced. To want it.
The danger only makes me want to touch, to try, to poke.
I don’t want you to slightly thaw my margins.
I want to feel the flavour of your fire in my pores.

Pieces of you

We walk around with pieces of you,
A string of something that connects us,
Usually invisible. It only start to shimmer
With a careless gesture. An automatic word.
They are things that trip up our body,
Making us pause a second after we do them,
At the physical feeling of unfamiliarity.
But they are old friends to our minds,
So we suppose we must have imagined it
And we go on, none the wiser.
They are things that make others blink strange
Because in our place flashes another face
For just a split second of recognition.
But they don’t know why, don’t see the strings,
So they assume they’re just tired,
And they go on too, none the wiser.
I do know though. I’m used to standing back
And watching. Following the patterns.
So I can see it when the strings shimmer
And I can follow them straight back to you.
It’s strange. A little impossible.
Just like yourself, I suppose,
If you could possibly have so many pieces
To have so many to give away,
Plant them inside us, and let them grow.
Wait. That would make sense, wouldn’t it?
Maybe you’re not that impossible.
Maybe every piece grows by itself,
And we only need the seed of one each.
Because I’ve watched you too.
You have other strings, running the other way,
Pieces of other people that make you up,
Some of them that you gave to us too,
Connecting us to people we’ve never met,
An ancestry of similar strangers,
A family of unknown friends.
And surely they – they couldn’t have
Such an infinity of pieces
To pass on to you to pass on to us.
I like that thought. The idea that it won’t stop
And I’ll be passing on pieces of you too,
While I’m passing on pieces of myself.
That you’ll know people before you even meet,
And I’ll understand pieces of strangers
That follow a string of somebody else
That you connected me to in the beginning.
I should thank you – thank you for the chance,
For your strings, and for your pieces.
But most of all, thank you for letting me
Turn them into my own strings, and my own pieces.