A Post Among Poems

Greetings readers.

I am aware of the unfortunate distance between posts. I used to be able to post twice, maybe three times per week, but a new semester of college is underway and my patterns have been disrupted. Of course I'm working to re-adapt myself and get to writing. There are a total of three things I have to put into action in order to write. My brain, my fingers, and my heart. Brain, because it keeps me somewhat organized. Plans, goals, and focus all have to originate from my thinking-organ. Fingers, because even if I plan and set goals, that doesn't mean I'll follow through and actually do what I intend to. Countless are the crumpled pages filled with lost thoughts, unfinished poetry, and incomplete homework assignments. Last of all is my heart, but in a way, it is the first of all three. My brain and fingers have to be reset and commanded to do what I want them to accomplish. My heart though, it never leaves the page. It always longs to write, create, and express.

So here I am, all three elements in play, in the Mill, in a good semi-melancholy mood from Blue October's "My Never". The poetry-post before this one, "Issues" tells of an extraordinary fit of anxious half-angry restlessness. I suffer from similar instances often, sometimes from my own procrastination or apathy. When overwhelmed with homework I feel a lot of remorse and get upset that I even have to be doing the menial assignments that I see no immediate benefit from. The upset feelings swell and grow and eventually I get too worked up to even focus on the assignment or anything for that matter. I think I kicked one of my shoes across the room, nearly hitting my precious guitar. Finally, after realizing I wouldn't get any more done on the frustrating tasks, I went to bed, where sleep was no where to be found.

In the morning, everything flooded back, like picking up where you left off on a saved video game. Worst game ever. As ungrateful as it may seem, waking up the morning is one of the more depressing things to me. Not the fact that I'm alive, but that everything has restarted again. The school. The work. The stress. Cycling and recycling over and over every day, every week. Those feelings over came me that morning while I was getting ready for the day.

I kept thinking about all the dumb things I had to accomplish that day and then I opened my phone. I have a Bible app and part of the app is to post a daily verse everyday. It was like the following:

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." -Colossians 3:17

I don't remember if it was exactly that verse or not, but whatever the case, I felt a bit better. I handed the day over to Him and everything was okay. My first class was cancelled, and I basically finished the annoying assignment.

Things in life are typically not as bad as we imagine them to be in our minds. Its always a relief to realize that, though it oftentimes takes experiencing the negativity to acknowledge its "not-so-bad-ness".

Well I think this is the end of this post. I hope to keep writing, writing, writing. And you keep living, living, living. And like Modest Mouse says "We'll all float on alright".

Issues

Words straight from a bout of stressful panicky restlessness while trying to do homework.

What the hell am I?

Why do I fight

To not feel these feelings

At work and in the night?

When I’m restless, despite

The tired-longing for peace

In my mind

For something to finally click

So I won’t fall behind

Trampled by the daily grind

Who the hell is this?

Why does he ache?

“Just be content and calm

Shut up for Heaven’s sake

You’ll run ragged and break”

But still he dreams

And plans his escape

From this surrounding prison

In which he’s raped

By assignments, tasks, games

And there I am

Looking into a glass

Straight back at myself

The mirror’s light is cast

Between the same two faces, masked

He and I

Are often overcome

And thoughts of ending it all

Don’t seem so dumb

When under fire by Panic’s gun

One Year Free

A poem based on personal reflections a few days ago about an ex and the time that's passed in between I guess. Its one of those poems where an idea and words sort of take control and just exit my mind without me asking. I suddenly realize that there are words on the paper and I take the raw mental product and form it into something more understandable for others. One of my longer poems, and the writing style is a bit different than I'm used to.

One year clean

My heart no longer needs you in order to beat

There was a day I thought you were it

The one I’d finally settle down with

I think that’s the part I hate the most

I nearly let my independence become a ghost

I love how now I can’t remember your middle name

I forgot your birthday and have gone on to be sane

I threw away the remembrances of you

Even the salt and pepper shakers I promised to hold on to

All these were signs I’d broken free

From the iron chains of love you placed over me

One year sober

Deep down, I was relieved it was over

I went cold turkey and survived the pain

Forgetting you was like a passing cloud, a three month rain

I rediscovered someone else better

With whom it didn’t work, I couldn’t get her

You found yourself a lover before we ended

It pushed me over the edge, my anger vented

And yeah, you wouldn’t admit it and be true

But you were done with me, and I was sick of you

I’d rather be single forever, chasing my dreams

Than to still be with you, getting stitched into seams

“One year free”

I think to myself retrospectively

365 days have gone by

Since the two of us broke our ties

We called it quits in the coffee shop

You wore a different necklace, not the one I got

That heart shaped trinket I gave you under a golden arch

Where I had my panic attack and sobbed out my heart

I drove to Kansas City to pick you up

After waiting an entire summer with a chest sewn shut

We gave it a shot, but I’m glad its this way

Because my soul would have died, tied down one more day