2015 April PAD Challenge Day 7: Love/Anti-love – Welcome to love on Tumblr

Welcome to Love on Tumblr

The other day,
My friend asked me,
“Who do you ship?
What’s your OTP?”
With restraint,
I drew one pained breath,
And in a far-less dignified tone than one originally had hoped,
I replied,
“Nope. Nope. Nope.
I can’t even right now.
You can’t make me choose,
Just one true love!
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Goodbye.”
On that fateful day,
I walked away from said friend,
And we hardly ever spoke again.
So,
If for some reason,
You ever meet a Tumblr person in real life,
I implore you,
Do not, I beg you, do NOT ask for their OTP.

Je suis la même (an original poem)

This is something that I’ve wanted to do but I was too afraid to try. I wrote a poem in French. It’s very simplistic but I hope you can get the rhythm and the feel of it. I hope you enjoy it and if you get stuck, just use Google Translate. Let me know what you think?

Je suis la même

Je suis la même.
Rien a changé.
Nous sommes « pas mal »,
Chaque jour, « pas mal ».
Bien que vous avez une ombre noire,
Qui vous suit,
Vous dites, « C’est juste…rien »
Chaque mois, « rien ».
Les yeux gris aussi froids que vos mots.
Les mots aussi froids que la mort.
Insensibles, troubles cachés.
Comment je peux savoir vos véritables pensées ?
Vos rêves et ambitions.
Vos désirs et émotions.
Donc, on a fait le jeu.

« Ca va ? »
« Bien. Ca va ? »
« Pas mal. »
Jusqu’au samedi matin de juin,
Je vous ai apporté,
Un café au lait,
Dans votre lit.
Larmes éclaboussé sur votre chemise.
Vous crie, « Je ne suis pas la même. Quelques choses a changé. »
« Quel a changé ? »
« Je ne suis plus la peur du change, du monde parce que… »
« Pourquoi ? »
« Parce que tout le monde change.
Chaque année,
Chaque moment,
Comme des feuilles des arbres.
On change avec les saisons.
Parfois bonne, parfois mauvais,
Mais c’est important de comprends que…
Il ne faut jamais oublier qui nous étions,
Qui nous sommes, ce qui nous serons.
Enfin, j’ai comprends. »
« Je ne suis pas la même.
Je vais changer.
Ce temps, bien sûr. »
« Bien sûr, mon chère. »
« Je t’aime. »
« Je sais. Je t’aime. »
Le fin.
Rien.

Change

Why are you changing?
It’s neither the beginning nor the ending,
Somewhere inside the vortex of emotions,
Something is pulling, thrusting YOU towards me
But I just don’t know how to explain…

The pain. It’s like you’re howling,
Crying out for help from me,
Something lost, broken, growing within,
Your brave face never falters,
Even though your veins are drained and wearing thin.
Why did you change?

In the good old days, the golden years,
We never wore watches,
Because our time was as infinite as the stars shining above us.
And for the longest time, they guided us, defined who we were and what we could be.
We we limitless.
And you were the dauntless potential I never had.

And let’s not pretend we never fought,
Because, my love, we most assuredly did.
We had yawping contests every few weeks,
Yet despite my illogical babblings,
You never protested that I was best.
Why did you have to change?

Or maybe it’s not you who changed their identity for the f****d up situation you found yourself in.
Change means growth, leaving things behind.
But I can’t bring myself to forget all 296 memories of you at the door.
The box on the floor.
You bore all my tormented thoughts for so very long,
Bottled up inside of you so that I would stay happy.
And maybe it’s why we went our separate ways.

Change, what is it good for?
Falling in and out of love with you was never a chore.
New paths of self-discovery, new adventures await.
I am awakening into a different person now, I can’t avoid my fate.
Changing is easy, it’s letting go of who you once were,
And letting go of you was the hardest.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 16: Write an elegy poem

Today’s prompt is to write an elegy or in other words, a love poem for the dead. Even though it’s a really morbid subject, I still hope you enjoy it. And if you fancy joining in on the fun of the 30 day challenge then click here for today’s prompt. It’s never too late! I really don’t have anyone that I’ve lost and felt lots of pain for so I’m going to continue with my fluffy naive love poems.

Elegy to innocent romanticism

Buddy oh pal, o’ friend of mine.

It seems like you’re slowly fading away, you’re dying.

Love seems so twisted in this digital age,

Affairs, abuse and non-committed relationships at this stage.

Back in the golden days,

Love wasn’t so hard to find,

chivalry and gentlemanly gestures would not go astray. 

You were perfect, you were pure, you were full of hope and optimism,

Now you are laughed at and ridiculed for being old-fashioned.

But you were so beautiful, you filled girl’s hearts with delight.

Wrote them epic love poems, brought them bouquets of lilacs and lilies at night,

To prove your devotion, you waited patiently for a message.

So, call me naive for thinking you still live,

That you still exist in this twenty-first century,

full of cynical creatures and monsters,

That say you aren’t true,

But just know that I will always be committed,

To believing in you.

2014 April PAD challenge Day 15: Write a Love/Anti-Love poem

So, today’s challenge was to write an epic love poem or…an anti-love poem. I’ve been writing pretty much the same style of poems so I thought that I would try a different style.

 

Lillies, daisies and cherry blossoms, floating in the autumn breeze.

Only the most beautiful human being walks across the room.

Velvet bow ties, white shirt, impossibly blue eyes.

Each line is captivating, hilarious, pure bliss.

Time to decide whether or not I should side with my brain or my heart.

Overlooking the fatal flaws, forgetting that cats have claws.

Hydrangeas, lilacs and carnations I see no more.

Anger grows, impossible to contain, resentment shows,

Trust betrayed. Does everyone go through this pain?

Even the romantics know how to hate to love.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 9: Write a shelter poem

So today marks Day 9 of the 30 day challenge and today wasn’t a good day for me. I was tired, frustrated and stressed. I didn’t know what to do but my mum helped me through it. She may not think she is tough but she’s one of the most resilient people I know and I’m so proud of her. Therefore, this poem is dedicated to her.

 

My Shelter

 

I take cover from the rain,

From the onslaught of self doubt,

That plagues my brain day in, day out.

I take cover under the shelter,

Built for me by my friends and family.

 

When the rusty dust shrivels up,

Choking my precious lungs,

Banging on my anxious chest,

I know I will soon rest easy,

When those around me,

Believe I can achieve my best.

 

Tears rushing down my face,

Into a mountain of tissues,

Beneath the roof of my place,

After heart ache and heart break,

I return to my home,

My comforter,

My protector,

My shelter, my mum.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 3: Write a poem about ‘messages’

So, if you haven’t heard already, today marks the third day of the National Poetry Writing Month for 2014. I am getting my prompts from this website if you want to find out more information about it, click here.

Today’s poem is inextricably linked with love again but this one has a bit of humour to it so I hope you enjoyed it. Please Note: This is NOT based on a true story, this is purely from what I’ve seen in stereotypical movies and tv shows which talk about love and relationships.

 

Did you get my text?

Seen at 8:34

No matter how many times I tell you,

To leave me alone,

You’re knocking on my door,

With flowers, chocolate and empty promises.

No, I will not pick up my phone.

 

Did you get my texts?

Seen at 11:58

Still, you persistently beg for me,

At the front gate.

Like a lonely little puppy dog,

Hopelessly wandering the streets,

You’re loyal and obedient to me now,

But you used to treat me like a piece of meat.

 

Please baby, did you get my texts?

Yes, I saw them at 4:06,

When you were stalking my home.

What else do you have in your bag o’ tricks?

I could handle handwritten letters,

One love poem or three,

But why oh why do you continue to antagonise me?

 

You said you’d be late for dinner,

Due to some business affair,

Well I’ve never seen a spinner of truth,

Quite like you.

So just to clear the air…

I will never play card games,

Because you always cheat with hearts,

Spend more time at stripclubs,

Than the fine work of art we have at home.

So yes, I saw your texts,

All 29 of them,

And I’m doing quite fine,

But in case you missed my message,

I fear you’ve failed to communicate,

And the fate of our “relationship” is toast.

Poem inspired by Percy Shelley’s “Love’s Philosophy”

Inspiration surrounds me,

Love is in the air,

I do not wish to moan or whine,

But that love will never compare;

It will never reach my lips,

Why is that love not mine?

 

Love is like a treasure, a possession,

It should be treated with great care,

Sometimes love is mistreated,

When beauty is thrown in the mix;

True love is truly rare.

 

Up on heaven’s clouds,

Where the artist’s movements flow,

His strikes always miss it seems,

The desperate lonely hearts,

Whose only desire is one true love’s kiss.

 

Then down on the dark and hollow ground,

My heart can wait no more,

My sparrow’s song,

The call for love is almost up,

And I am well and truly sore.

 

The arrows have hit their target,

And in the futile chase,

They scathe past me,

Slip through my fragile hands,

Until one strikes my face.

 

Mighty mountains and swift rivers I do not fear,

Nor past rejections and uncertain futures,

For now I look upon the mirror,

And seek the truth,

The only person I need to love is me,

And my love will find a way. 

My Mind is Like A Storm

My thoughts out loud.

A dark purple cloud hangs over my head.

It thunders in frustration

And I’m careful where I tread.

 

Swirling, twirling, tumbling, crashing.

My mind is like a storm.

Twisting, turning, trying to channel my thoughts

Into words which make sense to you,

You bright few.

You know what I mean when I say…

My mind is like a storm.

 

Strikes of brilliance linger

Like the echo of a drum,

Then they just disappear.

 

Bumbling, mumbling, stumbling,

These lead raindrops blur my thoughts out.

I’m just trying to collect them.

Yet, they slip away from my soft fingertips

With such ease.

 

The rain does not stop its onslaught.

Down, down it goes and flows until there is nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing but one single melodious thought.

 

The rain breaks for a moment as I retort.

Those three words are laced with danger.

And they are enough,

To cause a storm inside my mind.