45 - Express your anger, frustration or happiness in any art form you feel comfortable. Two personal poems.

  I totally forgot it's National Poetry Month.   I am really not a poet.  Honest!  I help Alan wth some of the lines of some of his songs, but that's usually it. However, when I've had  a few glasses of wine, and when a shitload of depresson used to rain upon me,  I'd sit my butt down and scribble out a poem.  Remember, in one of my blogs I mentioned you can express your feelings in dance, art, singing, writing or a poem. It helps you release feelings, thereby honoring them.  You don't have to ryhme or even think about punctuation if you don't want.



 Writing helps release feelings

A poem in honor of Kyle who passed away from a heroin overdose: written in 2010

Lunch at Bubba Gumps

Sitting, watching the waves crash onto the shore

I wonder why the beach used to be your favorite place

Did it calm you with its salty air and cool breezes

Or did you feel like those crashing waves… smashing onto the shore reaching out for help, but your fingers stretched to nothingness, to no one

Or did you feel lost like the small rugged rocks jutting up through the water, chocking under the waves, not sure if you are a part of something or reminded that you are utterly alone, to fight your mental illness and your addiction

No more days of brilliant sunshine mixed with swiftly changing clouds readied to burst into storm

No more confusion about which direction to fly…

No one to strive to make happy…

No more rules to attempt to follow…

Kyle, I vividly remember you and I sitting here three months ago,

You laughed as you ate your popcorn shrimp and drank your frothing beer

We talked about your friends, your future

I told you that we were so proud of you, how much you’ve matured, how thankful that the new meds were working

You smiled

We finally have a young man

But we only saw what you wanted us to see

Now I sit here alone with my glass of chardonnay and watch the seagulls fly in this pristine blue sky.

I know that you are with them, finally, happy… finally, free

Now, you are a part of the ocean, the sand, the sky and the wind

I feel your peace and the  bliss envelops me

I honor what you were and what you are now with a toast.

Following poem is dedicated  to my daughter, Nicole, after she left our house, to live a peaceful life without  the insanity of a mentally ill brother who was an addict and parents who were lost how to help either of them. Hopefully, she will be able to tune us in again and this time we will listen.

                                                               The Silent Listener

Gathered around the table

Playing our monthly family games

Teasing, laughing and joking

 Listening to the jovial tunes

                                               Enjoying the melodies dancing through the air

   Sharing the days past, the present and the future

Listening to each other

Respecting

Loving

Now listening from different rooms

Arguing

Too loud

Too soft

Too country

Too heavy metal

Monotonous Rap

Oldies, boring

Forgetting to respect

Not knowing how to channel this energy with

Constant static

Volumes changing

Rates varying

Genres switching from classical to heavy metal

Parents stuck

Not knowing how to guide the tuner

Overwhelmed and caught up with the fast rhythm forgot to listen to

The one who fought

For a little while

For us to listen to her station

Tired of listening to the seemingly constant tumultuous melodies

Finally

Tuned out

Turned off the radio

And walked away