NaPoWriMo Day 12: My Dear Poem

Prompt: Write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self (i.e., “Dear Poem,” or “what are my quatrains up to?”; “Couplet, come with me . . .”)

My dear poem,

What is it that you seek,
As you flow from my chest and leak,
Onto the keyword with wild speed,
To bring forth emotions and make me bleed.

My dear poem,

What is your purpose here,
To bring chaos, to awaken fear,
To challenge, to make one think,
Or simply to push the limits of the brink.

My dear poem,

You pry pain and loss,
Of shattered dreams and the cost,
You scream voice of the forgotten,
The ones who left me to be rotten.

My dear poem,

What do you hope to convey,
A message, a warning, or a way,
To stir the soul and heart of all,
Or simply to make the reader appall.

My dear poem,

Who do you speak to,
The young, the old, the wise, the new,
To all who seek to understand,
Or those who are just damned.

My dear poem,

How do you come to life,
From the depths of my mind so rife,
With secrets and stories to tell,
Or just a feeling I cannot quell.

My dear poem,

I am blursed at your raw power,
For breaking my castles in the air,
In a world that abhors ugliness,
You unfurl my misery and darkness.

My dear poem,

You are not very kind,
But you translate my mind,
In a world that silences me as meek,
You let me riot and keep.

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 11: Smell of Escapism

Prompt: Write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made you laugh, or something someone told you once that struck you as funny.

You smell like you want to be alone.

Your eyes, so distant and unknown.

Your essence, lost in search of character.

But your heart, oh how it glimmers.

With hope, to find a foreign home.

Where dreams can roam and freely roam.

And, living will become a norm.

With joy and peace, and love reborn.

To create and poet and yarn.

A life fulfilled, a soul re-born.

Laying in your dingy cot, you dream.

Of a life that's more than it may seem.

With a fear in the back of your mind.

That this hope may be just a bind.

And, you will forever remain stuck.

Trapped in a cycle, out of luck.

Always smelling like flying away, but.

Bound to the earth, come what may.

And, suffocated in this smell of escapism.

You long for freedom, a sense of prism.

But, deep down it is just a flimsy dream.

And reality is much harder it seems.

It hits like a giant truck.

The weight of life, that runs amuck.

You slap away smell of being alone, because.

You realize that in this world, you are not on your own.

- Oizys.

Random Diary Entry - 11th April 2023

Reject me...

 

I know you gonna reject me in the end. Just do it. So I can start my wallowing in the self-pity phase with absolutely zero affirmation and support around me. Reject me, just click send.

- Oizys.

Random Diary Entry - 10 April 2023

How To Give Up?

Maybe I am being dramatic, but I have nowhere else to vent this. I just cannot go on like this. I am in a constant state of pressure and urgency. And I feel as if this is making me an annoyed and mean person towards everyone. I feel like slipping into a black hole.

But the thing is, my parents are not at all supportive of me going abroad to study, and they are constantly trying to sabotage my plans with demotivating talks and taunts. And even my friends keep telling me not to move away like that. I am not even selected anywhere yet...

I really thought graduate school would be my way out to leave. To leave the country and go far, far away. At least for a year. I really love studying. But, here I am, struggling to even find jobs.

And to top it all off, this application process is so, so, so... draining. Part of it is my fault because I overestimated myself, I guess. I thought I was qualified, but I don't feel very qualified anymore. My LOR process for the applications and scholarships was a complete mess, starting from looking for LOR writers to technical glitches in LOR submission to professors not uploading references in time, resulting in application expiration. I could not even take one of those English tests, because first, they cost a lot (I spent most of my money on application fees), and there is no test centre in my town, so I'd have had to go to another city to appear the same, hence the added cost. Some universities did consider waiving English proficiency proof, but some didn't. At first, my parents said if I got a partial scholarship, they would assist me with the remaining funds. Now that I am on the waitlist, they have outright denied that they won't help me at all. And there are so many things that one can't even write down to share.

I feel like I am just cribbing a lot, and I know that this is something everyone is going through in the application process. But I am just in a perpetual state of anxiety with no affirmation around me. I feel very lonely and scared all the time even though I read all of your posts here and so many people are having it worse than me I guess. I do nothing but wait all day for what I do not know, and yet I get tired as if I have done some hard labour.

The question is, is it even worth it? Should I just give up and look for jobs instead? Is mentally and emotionally overpaying so much worth it? If I don't get selected, would it all be worth it? Because I don't think I will be able to apply again next year. Maybe a few years later, if the situation permits. So, is giving up my present time, peace, and sanity for this worth it? What if I get rejected? What if I get selected but don't get enough funds? I won't be able to go. I wish there was a way to escape, and I wish I hadn't gotten so obsessed with my top-choice universities. I wish I hadn't dreamt. I fantasised so much, and now that the reality truck is hitting me, it hurts much more than it should.

I'm just so tired. How do I give up?

 

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 10: Melody of Legacy

Prompt: Write a sea shanty.

Quietly we sailed across the sea,
A band of sailors, strong and free,
Our ship was small, our spirits too,
But now we're lost, with naught to do.

Our shanty's soft, a mournful sound,
For we are lost, and can't be found,
Our ship is small, our crew is few,
And now we bid our last adieu.

We sailed the seas with hearts of fire,
Our will to live, our one desire,
But now the winds have turned on us,
And left us stranded, without a fuss.

Our shanty's soft, a mournful sound,
For we are lost, and can't be found,
Our ship is small, our crew is few,
And now we bid our last adieu.

We fought for freedom, we fought with pride,
But now we're lost, and can't abide,
The thought of never seeing home,
Our hearts are heavy, we're all alone.

Our shanty's soft, a mournful sound,
For we are lost, and can't be found,
Our ship is small, our crew is few,
And now we bid our last adieu.

So here we are, a subtle end,
A band of yatch, lost friends,
Our legacy will live on though,
In the hearts of those who know.

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 9: Odennet to Oizys

Prompt: Write a sonnet.

Oizys, goddess of misery and woe,
Whose shadow darkens every troubled mind,
With every step we take, your presence grows,
And every pain and sorrow we must find.

You whisper doubts and fears into our ears,
And make our hearts heavy with despair,
You fill our eyes with tears, our souls with fears,
And make us feel as if life is unfair.

Yet, in your melancholic embrace,
There is a truth that we cannot ignore,
That joy and sorrow, in life's endless race,
Are both necessary to our very core.

So though we dread your touch and your embrace,
We know that you are a part of the human race.

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 8: Aurora's Analogy

Prompt: “Twenty Little Poetry Projects”
 

A heart of stone, she said, was all she had
Yet she claimed it beat like a hummingbird's wing

The hummingbird heart, a paradox that lives
Fluttering with love, despite the weight of stone

The scent of burnt sugar filled the air
While she tasted the sound of a symphony

The symphony's notes, a feast for the tounge
And the scent of burnt sugar, a feast for the skin

The touch of ash against her skin
Felt like a whisper in her attic

The whisper of yarn, a touch so light
It lingers on the nose like a memory of love

Colors tasted like placebos
And the name "Aurora" smelled like mist of iridescent bubbles

Pills of color, an illusory of love
And Aurora's name, a scent of stardust and soot

Kaleidoscopic beetles whirled in her stomach
As she gulped the happiness of her laughter

The laughter's melody, a nocebo of joy
And the beetles, a jubilee of love

The brittle softness of her love was the seed of her pomegranate
A sudden thought took hold and sprouted wings in her belly

The rose's thorn, a symbol of redemption
And the sudden thought, a challenge to get grip on

As she spoke Láadan, a language unknown
"The planets align, the path is dark
But the future is on the make"

Láadan's words, a language of unsung
And the future, a discovery of the unknown

The flickering candle was sanguine
But darkness chewed the wick

The candle's light, a symbol of hope's fire
And the darkness, a reminder of god's gluttony for fire

And as the night sauntered into the chalet
The moon shone as a mirror of her own heart
Whispering secrets to the stillness of the night

Until she finally let go of her own fight
And the stone shattered into a million stars

The heart of stone, a symbol of love's edge
And the shattered stars, a hope of love's transmigration

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 7: The Hooded Tapestry

Prompt: By NaPoWriMo, write a poem that plays with the idea of a list. Try to write a such a non-list, but a couple of other ideas would be to create a list of ingredients, or a list of entries in an index. Another way into this prompt might be a list of instructions.

The Hooded Tapestry

Girlhood

Womanhood

Ancestresshood

Godhood

Personhood

- Oizys.

NaPoWriMo Day 6: Seller of Muse

Prompt: Today’s prompt is also from NaPoWriMo. Take a look around Poetry International for a poem in a language you don’t know. Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem.

I chose the poem “Poem Without an End” by Yehuda Amichai. It is one of my favourites and I hold it close to my heart. As I had mentioned in the triolet post, I rarely have a sense of sound and rhythm. So, I have tried my best here (and maybe, miserably failed) to encapsulate my emotions and thoughts of the chosen poem in my own crafted poem.

Barefoot muse and passion
Bait, fate or reflect,
any?
Bitterly?
Or, lively?
Or, bitterly and lively?
Muse!
Echo harmonious
Beats of mystics
Betoken
any?
Bitterly?
Or, lively?
Or, bitterly and lively?
Muse!

- Oizys.

For reference, following is Hebrew transliteration of Yehuda Amichai's poem, Poem Without an End that I used for sounds:

Betoch muz'aon chadash, beit knesset yashan.
Betoch beit haknesset
Ani.
Betochi
Libi.
Betoch libi
Muzaeon.
Betoch hamuzaeon
Beit knesset,
Betochan
Ani,
Betochi
Libi.
Betoch libi
Muzaeon.

P.S. - I really like the choice the words in my poem and it gives a very poetic feel. So, one day, I might enlarge and polish my poem to give it more structure and concrete.

NaPoWriMo Day 5: Grief's Unexpected Guest

Prompt: Juxtaposition by NaPoWriMo

In a quiet range, suffused accompanying tears,
A gathering assembled to announce their last goodbyes,
For dignitary dear had abandoned this existence,
And the air was weighty accompanying upsetting sighs.

The range was understood, except for a whimper or two,
As lamenters rewarded their conclusive devoirs,
The air was difficult, the character controlled,
As the experience about bureaucracy appeared to indicate.

The unhappiness in their hearts,
But therefore a sound destitute through the silence,
A guffaw, limited and clean,
A snicker, so filled of disobedience.

The lamenters retired surprise,
Wondering what take care of cause specific levity,
But therefore they proverb a parent accompanying her teenager,
A teeny baby, so new to this soil.

It was the baby's first snicker,
A sound that caused a laugh,
A sound that illuminated the weighty attitude,
And fashioned the lamenters ignore their while.

For on account of importance, they evoked,
That growth continues, even following in position or time obliteration,
That skilled is still pleasure expected raise,
Even when we draw our definitive break.

So allow the baby's amusement ring,
And fill the range accompanying clean delight,
For because importance, they earned,
That love can overcome even the the most evil midnight.

- Oizys.