The Life I Save May Be My Own

The Life I Save May Be My Own

A tiny thing
Crying and cowering
Behind the bins
Is that—

A cat!
A kitten rather
All big-eyed
And terrified

Shh, shh, she said
There, there
You’re good now
She broke

Into a smile

Because the life
She saves may be
Her own

A Miniature Portrait in Pink

A Miniature Portrait in Pink

Peeling pink polish
On a girl who’s been biting her nails
Again
Because the pain is easier to bear
Then


Disclaimers:

  • I don’t bite my nails
  • I don’t use pink polish
  • I don’t write poems
The Motivational Inscription on My Mug

The Motivational Inscription on My Mug

LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE
What the fuck?
That’s a bit too much to ask,
Right?
Isn’t there an easier task?

Like,
Die or
Lie in bed and
Stare at the wall.

No?
Alright.
If you must.
I certainly can’t.

A Pill a Day

A Pill a Day

I measure my weeks
In the number of pills
I take to calm down
To continue to exist

Not too many
Not to get a habit
Count them out
Don’t take too much

Although
Should I overdose
Never mind

Too many things
For the little pink pills
To take care of
To make unexist

Black, Red and None

Black, Red and None

When you dress black
To reflect
The dark matter in your head

When you dress red
To say that
You’re not dead yet

When you don’t dress
At all
Because
Just because

What a Quiet Night Tonight

What a Quiet Night Tonight

When it’s so quiet
You think
You should hear yourself breathing
But you hear nothing

Have you gone deaf
Have you died
What’s happening
You’re terrified


Has it ever happened to you that you thought you went deaf because you couldn’t hear any sound around? The house is quite quiet tonight and it doesn’t seem right. I had to double-check that I’m not deaf, that I’m still breathing and that I’m probably still alive. I’m still terrified though for no good reason.

The Noise in the House in the Night

The Noise in the House in the Night

I’m waiting for my bedtime and not really up to anything. So I penned a poem (so-called). I was just listening.


In the middle of the night (but not midnight)
The laptop is humming
The old heater is crackling (but not heating
properly)
The cat isn’t purring (she doesn’t care
she should
for my poem)

A scream in the street
A door banging somewhere
More screaming coming
From seemingly everywhere
(A drunk domestic?)

The toilet flushing
Upstairs
The ancient floor creaking
Above my head

The house is unwell

Dear Sleeping Pill, You Had One Job

Dear Sleeping Pill, You Had One Job

In the night

My mind is up and around

Alive, awake, awhirl

Churning out stuff

That happened

That didn’t

That should have

 

Heyou, mind,

Cut the crap

Stop the swirl

Let me rest 

Brain dead

RIP

 

My sleeping pill is taking long to kick in, so I fingered a poem on the WordPress mobile app. It was horrendous. Both using the app and the poem. I think I’ve broken a finger or two.

Also I just shot the shot below from the app, zero editing. I can’t see how people can use the mobile app for posting stuff. I’m pissed off with it and this stupid idea of posting a pseudo poem hasn’t helped my sleeping at all. Eff that.

That’s what I can see right now. Find the cat! 🐈
Finding Everyday Inspiration: Six-Word-Story

Finding Everyday Inspiration: Six-Word-Story

Part of WordPress’s writing course Finding Everyday Inspiration.

Today’s challenge is to play with word count. I don’t consider word count too attractive a toy to play with, but out of sense of duty, I shall oblige. I’ve been producing posts of unchristian length lately, so in contrast, here’s a post of a christian length.

A short short story, I mean. Six-word-story, precisely. I did this format before in a characteristically cheerful and optimistic post (I mean the opposite of what I say), but once you and your blog reach a certain age, you can’t probably reasonably expect to do something new.

She prayed for help. Unheard, unheeded.

And that’s all of my writing assignment for today!

All the Same, All the Time

All the Same, All the Time

Loosely inspired by a recent somewhat heart-breaking post by Cardinal Guzman, I decided that the world needs more bad poetry.

At peace,
At home.
Alone.
Quiet, but not quite.
The kettle boiling,
Coffee brewing—
Another day, another night.