Day 11 – A Forgiveness Poem

Am I disclosing too much,
Or just stating the obvious, girl,
When I say that you stink in forgiveness?

Have you noticed that, already
In the special nooks of your fatigue
And your bright days,

Day 10 – Teenage Poem

You still think that is your darkest hour,
And you’ll remember it for the utter loneliness and emptiness
Contrasting with the noise and chaotic fragments
On the go inside your head
You cried and dried your eyes in your cuddly toy’s long ears

Long ears that keep lots of tears
And the memory of many sobs
That have heard many a verse
Of romantic poets, symbolists and others
Just dreaming…

Day 9 – Burn

I know you’re burning for what you believe in
I can’t remember all, but it was learning,
Teaching and research, in no particular order
You’ll burn on until you burn out
And even that’s a nice thing to see through
For fire is beautiful to look at
It warms us and helps cook the meals

Whatever field you’re burning in or out,
Burn on!

Day 8 – A Poem that Hints at Something

Honestly, this poem doesn’t hint at anything. I can’t think of anything appropriate, so I’ll leave it as it is. I may not use it in my final chapbook version.
I bet you’re wondering
If you’ll be happy overall
And wanting to know how
Things will turn out.

I often did that, and sometimes
Still do.
Only now,I’m not that curious
It seems that apathy and age walk hand in hand.

Day 7 – Drama Queen

The prompt for today is to use an Occupation or Profession as a title, so I chose one of my own

Drama Queen

My favourite occupation,
And your dream – to climb the fandom ladder
Playing what befits you most.

My lovely queen,
Your regular amaze fits, and your frequent
Pas-de-deux in the variety show
Of randomly selected dramatic media,
Goth black, feathers, glee and dreamy eyes,
Still warm my heart with bitterness
Instead of the fans’ loving glitter kisses
On your diary.

© 2018, mk

Day 6 – A Lost Poem

You were the most lost
When we lost Dad,

And though there came so many moments
Of staggering and stumbling, and tears and regret
After which you wondered what’s to come
And has the worst already passed?

Yes, I can vouch – nothing before or after.
So far…
So far.

Day 5 – A Private Matter

About that,
Be careful.
I know one shady thing you won’t get away with.
I’m sorry, girl, at least it’s not deadly.

I know it’s not fair. To you now it must seem
Especially nasty
When you see how many people get off the hook.
But being older and wiser,
I’ll tell you what I read in Ecclesiastes:
That “time and chance rule over all”

The time will be ugly and chance will be against you.
Keep all of this private. You will.
Although it’s a free world, and humanity has progressed,
The time for being open hasn’t come
Not even in my time, let alone in yours.

Remember, I love you.

Day 4: Apologetic Poem

Today’s the day I apologise to my younger self that I didn’t manage to become what she always wanted.

For every breach of promise,
I apologise to you.
I see every step away from your dreams
As a breach.

Not only promises set in stone,
Signed with your name in bloody letters
In a book somewhere
Are important,

But dreams as well, your secret hopes
To be what I never rose to become

Going astray from them is bigger a breach,
I believe,
As it cuts to the quiver, as it betrays our deepest secret

I apologise for letting you down
And letting you turn into an everyday family thing
Instead of the herald, or the star, or the Captain Amazing
Which you are
In your heart.

(c) 2018, MK

Day 3: Tired of… Poem

Tired of your know-it-all, nerdy reputation,
Will you try to be a different one?
One that looks for any hot-chick’s sensual elation,
That much needed when you want to ride on with the gang?

Will you try it many times,
Every time believing you’ll succeed?
Every time you reach to what you need,
Will you find you change your mind?

What other people have is their own, not fitting you.
My love, you’ll know your own,
Of course, you doubt it now, I know.
And doubt’s what makes us free to choose our path.

Walk blind and try to make your math.
Wondering about the aftermath.


Day 2: Darkest Hour Poem

Your darkest hour was
When you woke
Still absorbed in the cotton wool of illusion

When you banged against the thin needles
Decorating the otherwise ugly wall of disillusionment

Your soul was extracted from you with tongs
It hurt so much, you cried with no voice
The pain pushed you to the edge of an abyss
On the other side of which you’d see lava
And flames so white they froze you.

The tongs were cold, icy cold
And all inside you glued to them
When they were pulling at your soul
Extracting it.

So that you lost it
Tears felt out of place
The darkest hour – jumping the train to
The Happily-Ever-After dope.