What does tamed mean?
Only a fox;
Like a hundred
Thousand other foxes.
‘To create ties…’
That’s been too often
The source of
Invisible to the eyes;
But hair the color of gold!
Wheat, which is
Golden, will remind:
“Love the sound of the wheat in the wind.”
Found poetry is a type of poetry created by taking words, phrases, and sometimes whole passages from other sources and reframing them as poetry
I want to remember
You forgot me;
I’m not the dark center of the universe like you thought.
This is one of the nicer things I’ve heard in recent weeks. And I post it because I truly wish to respond to it, not because I wish to show those who stumble upon my tumblr that I have admirers.
Well you nailed it with one part, I recognize that I have a love for writing, but that is all. For me, the things that I write are never enough; never long enough; never brief enough; never descriptive enough; never good enough. I can’t honestly say I will ever consider myself good enough, but that’s not to say I won’t keep trying. Writing is the one thing in my life I haven’t given up on just because I wasn’t good enough, it’s the one thing I’ve ever actively attempted to dedicate myself to and persevere through, no matter how much I have to work or learn.
In that sense, I don’t know if I’ll ever learn enough to craft my skill, but I don’t intend to give up. I haven’t been passionate about much in my life so I do recognize that I have this deep seated love for writing.
So thank you for your beautiful words, and while I don’t agree that it is a ‘clear talent’, I’m going to keep doing it. =)
As I sit here with the lyrics “Oh my god, you think you’re in control, oh my god, you think it’s all for fun” ringing in my ears, I feel the familiar pangs; the usual longings rising from within my sunken chest. So here are a few things of which I feel the need to start doing—more of, or just in general.
*~IN LIST FORMAT!!
- Paying Attention
- Caring—about ANYTHING
- Write when the idea comes into my head instead of writing it in my phone/notebook/brain.
- Dedicate myself to something…anything
- Stop worrying
Patience! I try not to write when I don’t feel like it; F. Scott Fitzgerald said: “You don’t write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say.”
So ends a great weekend at Syracuse University; visiting my sisters, friends, and cousin. As I drove home I fell in to a bit of a depression—as I generally do when leaving my family—which took most of the long drive home to shake.
The closer I got to my hometown, where I still reside; and my commuter school, where I waste away day to day, the usual thoughts of being trapped and going nowhere clouded my slightly weary head.
While Montclair State University is a great school, where I do receive a top notch education, I can’t help but feel smothered sometimes. Trapped. These four (or more) years of college really are special and I hate to think about wasting them by staying at home and driving half an hour every day to go to classes. I look at the lives my sisters and friends are enjoying right now, and I feel envious. Sure, they are still stressed and bogged down like everyone else in college, but they are on there own. In a new state. In a new, exciting world; where they are free to do as they please, make decisions—and mistakes—as they wish, and live on their own for the first time in their lives.
This shouldn’t bother me, I’m truly in no hurry to grow up, but it really does get under my skin sometimes. I chose to stay close to home, close to my mother, who doesn’t really have the money to send all three of us away at the same time, and when it all boils down to it, I have no real problem. But I do find myself wondering what if?—as I do to most questions in my life.
Anyway, I noticed the lack of activity on nightonthesun.tumblr.com and decided to share what was on my mind, which was the real reason I even began this project.
Haha—while that is flattering—no; I’m a cynic, so no girlfriend for moi. It’s actually a narrative poem, so it’s fictitious in nature and doesn’t actually pertain to my life.
And thank you for the compliment on the poem =)
Thanks a million my dude! Just glad someone appreciates it, as much as I like writing, I never tried my hand at poetry before joining tumblr; I started writing it because it’s easier than writing or posting stories all the time.
I don’t want people to think I’m posting this because I’m some sort of pretentious, narcissistic dick. Because I’m not. I simply wish to know who sent me this “ask”. Whoever you are, you’re too kind, and your anonymity doesn’t do you justice. Thank you.
*Author’s note: I don’t love this poem—it’s not my usual style/topic, it was also slightly rushed—but it is about growing up with OCD, and it pertains to my life, so I thought; “why not”. Enjoy.
These days I don’t think so much,
But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten;
There was once a time when evil thoughts
Filled my head like boxes in a room.
Just to remember opens a box—
Full of those demons—wide open.
Most days my hands shake,
Like the branches of dark trees filled
With rot. My bones ache and I long
To close my eyes; if only for an hour.
These thoughts plague my mind, like they’re
Spot welded to the inside of my head.
Relief; through a good night’s rest;
Or a little blue pill, becomes an itch.
Remember that? Remember those thoughts?
How could I forget? They still come: At times
When the night is too dark; at times when my room
Is too quiet. But now I can close my eyes; and now
I can sleep, on the pillow of my bones. While
My mind idly chases “nice” dreams.
Now I can smile when my eyes blink open softly,
And the bright morning sun stings my tired eyes.
I hate sleeping; I dream way too much
Ever have ‘one of those days’?
Of course you have, everyone experiences those days… What is it about them that makes you and everything around you seem so sour? There’s something about those days that an individual just can’t shake no matter how hard they try.
The reason I lament is because I had one of those days today. Everything, and I mean everything, went wrong today—throughout the day I just couldn’t help but feel like I was trapped in the most melancholy of Modest Mouse songs. Now the point of this post is not to complain about what happened, about what I felt or about what I experienced. The point of it is to ask why they happen, and why they just can’t be shaken.
So you wake up on the wrong side of the bed (excuse the cliches riddled into this post) it really doesn’t have to get worse from there, but it usually does. Someone cuts you off in traffic; you’re late for work/class/an appointment; someone pisses you off; there are a plethora of things that can happen, throughout the course of your day to make your long day feel even longer.
Now, the reason for a bad day doesn’t always have to be clear. Like today I woke up late and I was just feeling ‘down’ throughout the day. My eyes were heavy, and so was my spirit. But even though this occurs there should be many ways for an individual to cheer themselves up. So why does a bad day almost always seem to get worse and worse until the individual just sleeps it off?
One could believe that that’s just the way life is, some days are bad and go from bad to worse. But what I realized today was that I was just paying more attention to all of the bad things that were happening to me or going on around me. I was too tired, too depressed too beaten to think or act positively. To spell it out more clearly, days like these feel worse because that is all that we can focus on; a poor nights sleep, a fight with a friend, a slight feeling of depression. And we focus on them all throughout the day, so much so that we don’t even recognize the small, good things that happen to us. That’s what makes them so hard to shake, the fact that you just can’t see past them from where you’re standing.
Even as I drove home, the deep, rich yellow light of the setting sun over the illustrious Paterson skyline failed to pick up my spirits. As the bright rays flooded in through my windshield and filled my swollen, heavy eyes, all I could think was; “great, now my eyes hurt even more”.
So I sit on my couch now, writing this blog entry, looking back on the day that was, and I’m somewhat relieved that I am far away from the dejection that poisoned my head just hours before. All I can do now is rest, try to do my homework for once, and hope that tonight will be a better night’s rest.
You will always be a loser.
AND THAT’S OKAY!” —Titus Andronicus
=) thank you so much. I’m glad somebody is reading it.
Experts say that it takes 30 days for a habit to be broken or altered. That means 30 full days of consciously avoiding the ritualistic actions that go hand in hand with a habit. This is true for any kind of habit; biting your nails; spending money freely; and many others. The same could also be said for the opposite. Meaning that it only takes 30 days to develop a habit.
Take a minute to think about all of the habits that you have in your life. Maybe they are bothersome, maybe they are unconscious, maybe they affect your life in such a way that they prevent you from functioning properly or operating at your usual/preferred level. Everyone has habits, not everyone realizes them, and almost nobody understands that habits can be changed, or eliminated altogether.
The point of this is to get you to step back and take a look at your life. See what habits you have, see what other troublesome or annoying qualities you have, and see what you can do about them. You may find out you don’t really even know yourself, and the things that you do unconsciously.
thanks. Hulett’s Landing, Lake George, NY.
I was trying to explain to my friend Alexandra (Gary) exactly what it is I’m feeling right now…But I’m having some difficulty in doing so.
I feel like I need to say something to someone but I don’t want to sound depressed or self loathsome… While in reality this just might be the case, I’m just not so willing to concede that I’m completely unhappy right now.
Whatever it is that I do have to say doesn’t seem too important and in actuality it feels like more of an abstract emotion than a tangible thought (so it’s not very easy to explain)
Gary asked me to try and explain it but i just didn’t know how. The feeling deep from within my chest is a feeling similar to that of hitting a wall; in life; in reality; in whatever else. Perhaps it’s just a momentary drop in happiness but i just don’t feel good about anything right now
It seems to me to be a build of a personal disappointment, stress, and internal struggle. Just a cluster fuck of depression causing elements…I feel powerless, I fell like I do when I get writer’s block: worthless, useless, unable to do.
I feel alone, and sad, and angry, and frustrated. Perhaps it’s just for tonight and perhaps this momentary lapse of joy is stopping me from looking beyond this moment (I was happy before, and I’ll be happy again)
I’ve taken a break
from wreaking havoc:
From tearing up hearts
and ripping out throats;
with wet tongues lashing,
and sharp words slashing.
And what was left,
In my devastating wake?
A toothless grimace.
A bloody kiss.
Disappointment stains the skin,
like a burn
that should have healed the day before.
When is enough ever enough?
An urge draws from within.
The urge for fresh death,
A longing for the hurt:
The familiar hurt.
Youth and beauty.
Is that all it takes
to break the fast?
The sweet smell of her hair
lingers long after she’s gone.
A rush swells in my chest
like a secret floating up
from the icy bed of the Passaic River.
Have the cement shoes worn off?
The pollution in the murky depths
makes it difficult to know for sure.
A car horn sounds in the distance,
It’s a long float to Newark.
who actually follow my blog—or for that matter, care what/if I post—do not be alarmed. I’ve only taken a short hiatus from blogging.
Um, that’s all I really have to say on the matter.
Life is still intricate, complicated, and convoluted—you can chose the word that best applies to yourself(they all mean the same thing)—and most people on earth still suck…so…not much has changed. Hope you all are well.
Carry on then.
I really want to win the lottery one day