Category: Miscellaneous

Day 27- Begin with the title “The Poem I’d Never Write.” Then, write that poem.

The Poem I’d Never Write

Sometimes I can feel it coming on,
The pressure rising in my chest,
My heart beat racing, fast as a mouse,
Breathing slows and shallows,
My palms are sweaty, my stomach aches,
I am fully engulfed.

Where is my mind?
Lost at sea with no ship captain to be found.
This is crushing, debilitating, immobilizing,
I cannot think
Move
Breathe.

The thoughts passing through my head
Are filled with darkness,
Absolute darkness.
Thoughts of
Oh, perhaps I should dispose of myself,
But through which vessel, I am uncertain.
Oh, perhaps I am not worthy of those around,
And how to become so I am not aware.
Oh, perhaps this world should be better off without me,
My presence a burden to be destroyed.
Perhaps my mistakes have obliterated my chances
At anything good or wonderful in this life.
No blood shall be spilt tonight aside from in my thoughts,
But with time,
I shall recover from this
Panic attack.

Day 24- Write a poem that’s different in some way from anything you’ve ever written. Take a chance! Be wild!

I am of the world,
Yet thus so far one single piece standing alone,
Awaiting a call of direction or madness,
I search for the meaning of it all.

I am of the world,
Although I have not yet begun to fully respect
My place in this begotten, damned society,
My stance in regards to the future has widened,
The mind of which has opened to possibilities beyond my reach
In prior days.

For I am of the world,
But alas, simultaneously,
The world is of me.
For one being unescorted by the other shall mean the destruction of all.
As I said, my path has arisen,
I am of the world,
But hereto I shall not fall down,
Whence the world calls upon myself.
For instead by rising up,
The power shall be mine once more.

I am of the world,
Whose meaning shall be revealed to me in time,
But only if patience be a virtue of mine,
Only if my soul be willing to hold true,
I am of the world,
My world shall thus be mine.

Day 23- Write a seven line poem that begins with “it’s true that fresh air is good for the body” (from Frank O’Hara’s poem “Ave Maria”) and ends with “this is our body” (from Gary Snyder’s “The Bath”).

It’s true that fresh air is good for the body,
The oxygen lives in our very bones.
It resides in each and every drop of blood,
Thrives in nature, in and out of ourselves.
The trees, like us, rely on it;
Nature, our physical being,
This is our body.