Sweet and Bitter Stuff of Wonder
where I stash away my ramblings,
in dark corners (as I believe)

where I add some sweet, but mostly bitter
words that show my wonder at the sad world
and my wailing soul
(which wails for no obvious reason, my reason is stupefied)

Where are the sweet pieces?
My name translates as
“Sea of bitterness”
A coincidence?

Written for a prompt site for which I haven’t written for a long time, the community of my friends Marie and Walt, Poetic Bloomings #210 – Whatchamacallit.

Apple of my Eye

I know what it means, yet I couldn’t help slipping into my usual mood.
28 to Create, Day 20 – Apple of my eye

Image: shlomile
Image: shlomile

Apple of my eye
or a pear
no more illusions or expectations
I have no soft skills
and positively no hopes
Apple of my eye,
my precious, my only one
The one I need and crave to have
although it’s bitter as the analgin
I would take for each third headache.

Do I remember?

© 2014, soulmary

PS. Featured image: Kostas Panagakos at Deviant Art

Midway in life’s journey

These days, I’ve been thinking of not writing anymore. It’s true, other authors’ activity somewhat depresses me. They manage to write, share, submit, get published, get liked, etc. in such short terms. Success around makes me feel more insignificant than I actually am. From time to time someone would ask me what happened to my book/my poetry writing/my publishing plans and intentions. I mumble in response like an idiot. I don’t even know how I decided to check the prompt sites today.

Carry On Tuesday hit the mark with Midway in Life’s Journey – a topic so sad and bitter, that the following simply poured over the paper. No tears, just words. I have no power for tears anymore.


I don’t want to hear a word

of being midway in life’s journey

Trust to my left, rust to my right

Being awake all night

Mull over self-saddening confusions

Close the window to

bleak memories

sweet memories

just memories

warming my heart

warning my mind

worrying my soul.


I can’t really pre-order my days

Nor my nights, for that matter


Purring cat on my left

Dictionary on my right –

I guess, they matter.

© Mariya Koleva, 2012