Day thirty-eight

I was supposed to be learning about stop motion animation tonight – which I was really excited about.  Unfortunately, this cold has kicked me on my butt and I am stuck at home feeling sorry for myself.  And what better thing to do when you feel sorry for yourself?  Write poetry.  As I’ve used up my last bit of energy and brain power writing these poems, I’m just going to let you read them and not say anything more:

My feeling-sorry-for-myself poem

I swim inside the mucus of my plight
It overtakes all my senses until I am only sick
It consumes my thoughts, it seeps into every inch of my body
Until all I am is the cold
All I am is a shell harbouring an unwanted fugitive
An unwanted, unloved virus that thrives on my misery
It scratches at the inside of my throat
Showing its power over and over again
I fight, but it fights back
If I give in, it celebrates its victory by growing stronger
I will gain the upper hand and slowly it will leave
But in the end the cold is always the  winner
Because there’s always another victim for it to attack

My Ode to Art
A very simple rhyming poem in honour of 30 Days of Art

Dancing makes my heart beat faster
Because of the movement and my laughter
Oh the theatre – it’s part of my soul
I’ve been loving it since five years old
Films can make me hold back tears
In hilarity, sadness, happiness and fear
I’m moved in ways I can’t define
By visual art – all those shapes and lines
All music is the beauty for the ears
But it’s how it touches your emotions, more than what you hear
Then there’s writing that comes from practice
It can make the words come alive like magic
Crafting is an art everyone should try
It calms and centres and sharpens the eye
Designers are a talented kind of folk
Taking obscure ideas and making them art
Photography captures the moment true
In the way the photographer wants it to
Finally architecture, we see it all around
Take the time to really look up and down
I hope I haven’t forgotten any
The best thing about art is there are so many
Different ways to define what is beauty
And everyone sees it very differently

A little more abstract poem (don’t read too much into this)

Why am I expected to cry?
I don’t feel
I don’t feel the way you do
I want to
I wish
There’s always a but
I don’t know why
I wish I did
I wish I could
I don’t

3 thoughts on “Day thirty-eight

  1. Pingback: Day sixty-one | threehundredsixtysixdays

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