JuneBug

5/30/13

So obviously, I wrote this a while ago.  It's kinda weird.. as in not very similar to most of my writing.  Or at least that's how I feel about it.  It was a little in relation to a book I was reading at the time.  Btw, I will try to start doing my book reviews again... or at least mention when I read a good book.  The one I was reading was The Innocent by David Baldacci.  Then I read the next book in his series, The Hit.  Both we very action-oriented, and great reads.  (The main character is a hit-man.  And a BAMF.)  I would recommend them both.  Anyway, on to my random poem....


JuneBug

You're my little JuneBug
my little sweetie pie
I'm gonna love you
love you till the day I die

She sings it soft
she sings it low
she sings even though the man
tells her no

He yells real loud
he screams and shouts
he's got the barrel pointed
what's this life all about

She holds her JuneBug
she holds her sweetie pie
she whispers little one
it's gonna be all right

He can make it stop
he wants to make it stop
there are tears in her eyes
he will make their dreams pop

There you can see the trigger
and there is the pull
a junebug is screaming 
the world spins out of control

Cradled in small hands
cradled is her face
he stopped her heart
something that cannot be replaced

But something new starts
something new begins
the little JuneBug starts singing
dark won't win

Emote

Prompt:  Pick an emotion. But don't say what it is. Describe it. How it feels, what it looks like, how it acts.


 - 1 - 

A tightly clenched ball.
A jaw grinding. 
Breathing quickens and eyes dart.

It's dark grey.
Like storm clouds.

But this lightning 
is shocks of red.

Really it's a headache.
Unclear.
And unreasonable.

Tapping incessantly.
Twisting.
Building.
Hounding.
Pounding.

It creeps up.
A small snowball
grows
as you roll
it gains momentum
it's unstoppable.

Heart pounds.
And suddenly
there's a pressure
in your chest
constricting 
and piercing.

An endless stream
a list of to-do's
less have-done's
more due dates

Are you finished yet?

You're late
You're rushing
It's not finished yet

There's 8 more things to do
And you're paralyzed
Is it right?
Can't answer the questions
if the concept's not understood
But that was covered
last week 
weren't you here?
What have you been doing?

Haven't you finished?

There's 16 more problems
And your friend
still isn't 
talking to you
What went wrong?
Can't this be fixed?
And your grandma is sick
nothing in your power
Is there nothing to be done?
And your brother 
he's in trouble
what's he doing with his life?

Aren't you going to finish?

Wait there's 32 answers needed
What to wear?
How to speak?
Where to go?
What to be?

Are you finished?

Because 
time
is 
up.



 - 2 -

I am searing 
I am white-hot
I am burning

I am bundled
I am mixed-up
I am twisted

I am mindless
I am Cro-Magnon
I am primal

I am red
I am blood
I am slashes

I will find
I will take
I will posses

And then I will destroy

A Poem (And An Assignment For You!)

I wrote this shortly after my last post on POW. It's a sort of response. I don't want to say too much about it until after you read it, so here goes.

The Belligerent Goddess

I fell in deep love with a divine presence.

Scowling spirit of indisputable beauty.

Who could resist her charms?

She is a woman of size and fire,

of passion and swear words and love and

bullheaded hope she does not buck for a moment.

Thinness does not become her,

nor long-legged-ness nor

a button-like nose for, for you see

she is not a

goddamn doll.

Instead she has curves,

a wit that fells royalty

and draws in men

like so many

rainbow trout.

One large mouth, she possesses

often loud and often open,

Some say too much, but, being an adult,

she is polite and merely

disembowels them.

                                   

I fell in deep love

with a glorious sprite of water and noise

champion of the masculine and feminine

one who celebrates food            

and intelligence

and the bright broad spectrum of beautiful bodies.

It just took me twenty-four years to realize

she was me.

This is my self-love poem. Your new assignment (should you chose to except it) is to write one either about your internal goddess/spirit/whatever, or about how fabulous and wonderful you are. You pick. :)

Completely Transparent

Age twenty-four is shaping up to be an odd one in my life. Lots of rebuilding an ego that's a little more healthy these days, but still prone to bouts of self elation followed by wallowing in misery. This sucks at times, but it still feels like progress considering twenty-three was such a fucking shit show.

Sometimes I get struck by bad feelings for no reason in particular. Sometimes they come and go very quickly. Sometimes this happens late and night. I wonder if I need more sleep.

It's not okay to be transparent and needy on Facebook. Or maybe it's exactly okay to be that way there, but  it also feels manipulative and the last thing I want is to make people worry about me.

But I don't care about being transparent here, you guys know me and love me. So, here it goes. Transparency time-

Sometimes I worry that everything I write is stupid and that everyone hates me.

I honestly don't know why. Does anyone else ever feel that way?

My friend M talks about how everything bad we go through is just a part of growth. It's a very positive way of thinking, but it doesn't move fast enough for me sometimes.

I wish I was strong and confident and sure of myself, but I'm just not. I want to find a way to change that. It's my goal of age 24. Finally get a goddamn handle on this stupid self-hatred I've been wrestling for as long as I can remember.

I'm open to suggestions.