Wordle #220 and Sing Out Your Success | Poetry Prompt 11

220

Life is so fair that it seems

Sinister at times

Every manner of man exists

And every manner of emotion

Both grotesque and divine.

I am neutral despite

My desire for goodness,

So devastatingly neutral.

Chaos is my courage, the urge

To link whatever the risk implied.

If a minute was all you had to define

Yourself what would you rather be doing?

I drink chocolate milk from a glass bottle

Letters to self, addressed to no one in particular

But jettisoned into the thrum of ongoing traffic.

I gave birth once and in that moment

Nothing else mattered but this unseen entity within.

My fear, my selfish irredeemable fears forgotten

In the presence of a miracle, in a temple of ghosts,

I too was beautiful, certain, present, a mother.

A chill finds its ways into my bones,

Into the velvety, larval center.

My heart is heavy and grey with excess.

The stones here lack that particular crunch.

I am lost, so very far from the mother

That I was when I first held her.

My worries have grown exponentially,

My efforts have effects

That I can never quite predict.

She has a mind of her own

And it does not understand why

Despite the reasons given.

I wonder if my intentions

Truly are as I have portrayed them

Or if I am just desperate?

She is so human, this child

I have been given, she carries

Band-Aids in her pocket

Encase someone else gets hurt

And I think despite me she is beautiful.

Despite everything she cares,

If too much at times but my God

She is not numb and what more is there?

OctPoWriMo

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9 responses to “Wordle #220 and Sing Out Your Success | Poetry Prompt 11

  1. This one affected me so deeply, Yves–tears blurring my ability to type something coherent. Your description of your daughter–I think that’s what it is, that her heart is big and full and giving; surely you must see that these are gifts you’ve given her?

  2. This is a stirring and deeply personal piece – as you delve into the darkness of your self, your being, your demands and needs – and yet, the recognition, the realization, for as much destruction and chaos as you feel – you are capable of bringing life – light – hope. Not only through words penned and inked – but through the questioning, spirited child you call “daughter” …..

    Absolutely lovely and poignant Yves 🙂

    • Awww thank you Pat =) She is definitely spirited both hubbie and I are stubborn so she is a handful but she is also very loving and compassionate. I remember when she was only 3 in daycare and another kid would cry she would go over and hug them or pat rub their back, the staff was always so moved by it. If she sees you are sad she tears up herself and hugs you close.

      • She sounds like a wonderful little gem 😀

        Right – so she has her own personality -and at her age – it’s the beginnings of “pushing limits” just to test her “legs” – in terms of starting to really know her own mind – and yup – I bet “handful” is polite – but would you have it any other way? 😉

        Doubt it. 🙂

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