In the Blues

 

Base image by Haniel Espinal on Unsplash

in the blues alone

even those who care don't see

the pain inside me

notes

This Haiga was inspired by a prompt from Carpe Diem Haiku

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/10/carpe-diem-13-dolphin.html

Text art and effects were added to the base image by the poet using Pixlr.

You are welcome to share the Haiga, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. 

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2023

 

Image by Digital Photo and Design DigiPD.com from Pixabay

Well, boy howdy, I just made myself sad a.f. with my poem. I thought about pouring out my heart here in this space where I pretty much have an audience of one. But then I thought about the lurkers and I remembered my own wisdom.

So, we'll just go to the poetry prompts instead.

Yesterday's April PAD Challenge prompt asks for a love or anti-love poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-18

Today's April PAD Challenge prompt requests a taste poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-19

Today's NaPoWriMo prompt

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-nineteen-8/

asks participants to read the poem My Grandma Told Me Stories or Cautionary Tales by Marlanda Dekine.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/155931/my-grandma-told-stories-or-cautionary-tales

I wrote about the fact that I came to love monsters because I am one of them.

Not a "monster" in the sense of being a brutal person who deliberately harms other people and creatures. I've been the target of such people throughout my entire life. Some of these people take on the form of "helpers," such as the nurse on the psych ward when I was sixteen years old who told me I was a freak and would always be a freak and that something like me could never be normal.

I told her "better a freak like me than a bitch like you."

I remain proud of that retort.

I'm a monster in the sense that people have always rejected me and made me feel ugly. The idea of "loving myself" is so foreign to me as to be laughable. I have learned to tolerate and respect myself enough not to put up with other people's abuse any longer. What the fuck does "love yourself" even mean? 

I have spiky armor, and if you try to probe around under it, I will defend myself with extreme prejudice. I don't and never will trust easily. I always expect that people are going to betray me in the end. 

I think the soft center of me is worth getting to know, but people will never bother. All they see is my unbecoming exterior. 

I am not a pretty girl. It isn't what I do. However, I understand why I used to try to be one and why I fell into the snares of empty men who just wanted something to use for physical pleasure and a punching bag. I understand why I fell for the overtures of false friendship from insecure females who desired a companion they could think of as lesser.

I wanted my poem to hit like a short, sharp slap. I had trouble making it fit the confines of a Senryu's syllable scheme. Fate must have been in the mood for a brief, depressing poem because this is what came up in the Carpe Diem archive.

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/10/carpe-diem-preview-2-kanshicho-other.html

I wrote my Senryu/Tanka thing in Kanshicho style, which does not have a required syllable count. 

Just for fun, my syllable count ended up being 8-9-7-7-7.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Owl, alone in the dark.

https://odysee.com/@PeaceofMind:9/spooky-spring-music-twilight-rose:f?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Here is what I was listening to while creating the poem and post.

Lonely Soul

 

Photo taken 7 May 2017 at Denver Aquarium

Copyright Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl

you pass by each day

nobody sees or hears you

alone in a crowd

notes

It's been too long since I created a Haiga, or any kind of poem, really. I don't imagine anyone missed me, but I missed poetry.

The poet created the Haiga using one of her own photos and the software at pixlr.com

You are welcome to share either the photo or the Haiga, but please credit me.

The Haiga was inspired by a prompt from Carpe Diem Haiku.

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2023/01/carpe-diem-haiku-kai-1366-loneliness.html

I am sharing today's work with:

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/

https://earthweal.com/2023/02/03/earthweal-open-link-weekend-155/

https://viewingnaturewitheileen.blogspot.com/

https://myjustsostory.blogspot.com/2023/02/sunday-selections-619.html

Here's some music to listen to while you read the poem. You're welcome to grab a coffee, tea, or whatever while you read and listen. From your own supply. I'll probably be a bit unsettled if you show up at my place demanding coffee or tea.

You know the drill if you've been here for a while. Here's the link in case you can't see the embedded player.

https://odysee.com/@Fullalbunscomplete:d/Arnaldo-Baptista---L%C3%B3ki-%281974%29-Full-Album:8?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 12 + Day 13: The Thirst

 

See the notes at the end of the post

in the past, you sought intoxication

at present, you pray for inspiration

the future will bring no satiation

for the thirst

you've had from birth

the aching need for acceptance

buried in disguise

behind your crystallized eyes

masquerading as addiction

parading wantonly as craving

for the validation you will never find

in or outside of your nefarious mind

in the guise of no god

in the arms of no man

you were born distorted

in the distant past

you will die broken and alone

in days of the future passed

your thirst never quenched

your desires never satiated

nothing was ever enough

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by supra from Pixabay

notes and prompts used

I created the image at the top of the post with pixlr.com by superimposing a free-use photo by Christine Sponchia on Pixabay over a photo of a portion of Salvador Dali's 1931 painting, The Dream. 

https://www.clevelandart.org/art/2001.34#

Image by Christine Sponchia from Pixabay

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-12

Prompt: "For today's prompt, write a future poem. The future could mean years into the future, or it could be less than a minute. Or it could be a poem in the past that looks at the future that is still in our current past."

When I was younger, I always wrote about a sci-fi future. When I was in the 5th grade, my class made a quilt to be shared with future students. On my square, I crudely embroidered a flying saucer. The school buried a time capsule that year, and I really and truly thought that when the time capsule was opened in 2000 we would have flying saucers.

The future looks much more dystopian to me from my current vantage point.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-13

Prompt: Write an ekphrastic poem. I selected Dali's The Dream.

I've been a fan of Dali's work since childhood.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/05/day-5/

The Prompt:

"Imagine that you are thirsty. I mean really thirsty. I don’t know how that came about, and it may not matter, but you are."

The lines "buried in disguise behind your crystallized eyes" are a nod to the lyrics from one of my favorite songs, Still...You Turn Me On, which was written by the late Greg Lake (10 November 1947 – 7 December 2016) and initially appeared on Emerson, Lake, and Palmer's 1973 album, Brain Salad Surgery. 

The line "in the days of the future passed" is a nod to another of my favorite prog rock bands, The Moody Blues. It references the title of their 1967 album, Days of the Future Passed.

Here are today's soundtracks. We're in the Dragon Age now.

Here's a link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/dragon-age-origins-orzammar-ambient:1?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

So ya liked that crap? Truth be told, I don't care if you did or didn't. I did. So here's another one.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/dragon-age-origins-orzammar-the-proving:9?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 15

https://odysee.com/@Musica_Clasica:a/LA-MER---EL-MAR---Claude-Debussy---MP3:8?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Good morning, Poetry People. It's too early, but I woke from a terrible dream at 3 AM, and since I'd end up in the ER if I called up my old pal Jack Daniels and his partner Jimmy Beam, I decided I'd go down to the sea with my old friend Debussy instead. Never mind all that, let's get started.

This post goes on a bit of a downward spiral at the end, so you may just want to hit it to see the prompts I used and then quit it. In fact, this is the strategy that I advise.

Uninfluenced

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-fifteen-8/

Write a poem about something in which you have absolutely no interest.

I have absolutely no interest in so-called "influencers." I couldn't give a flea fart in an F5 tornado what these self-absorbed prats have to say.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-april-pad-challenge-day-15

Write a patience poem.

I wrote an anti-patience poem about my lack of patience with self-proclaimed "influencers."

I wonder what has been influencing these very lifelike but thankfully unrealistic dreams I've been having lately. I suppose it's down to stress like it always was. I feel like part of me is being destroyed from within and changed into something cold, dead, and sociopathic, and I'm projecting that feeling onto the image of the person who is closest to me.

I know this makes no sense and I wish I could talk about it with the person I used to discuss dreams with, but they have too much else going on in their life and no time for my mushy-headed bullshit. I imagine that feeling utterly alone, adrift, and misunderstood isn't doing my crap subconscious much good.

For the love of all that may be holy, don't bleat out the old "but mental health professional" bullshit. Those fuckers never helped me a damn bit, plus I live 50 miles from any city, and fuck a whole lot of that shit. I need a friend and preferably one who is open-minded to the metaphysical, not a psychoanalyst. I understand enough about psychology where I can figure that shit out on my own. 

I don't trust easily, and I'm really not looking for anyone to "solve" my problems. Really, I'm simply overthinking things and don't have anyone to help me deflect my pain. Boo fucking hoo, it's not like I'm the last friendless person in the Universe. It's a tale as old as time. I don't need no doctor and I don't want no drugs. I just want to get the last bit of that lousy dream out of my system so I can get back to sleep.

Maybe my old friend Claude can play me a reverie so I can sail back to the Land of Nod and go fishing for better dreams.

~Meanwhile, Ornery Owl is Still Thinking~

Image by Chräcker Heller from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@Musica_Clasica:a/Debussy--Reverie--mp3:b?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 6

https://odysee.com/@AncientRealms:e/013Eden:d?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Greetings Poetic types and welcome to the sixth day of the April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo for 2022. I've provided today's poetry soundtrack, including a link in case you can't see the embedded player.

I had a bout of stronger than usual depression yesterday. Today's poem, Pain in the Soul, discusses my tendency towards spring depression, something that very few people seem to understand even though statistically April is the cruelest month. More people commit suicide in April than during the winter holidays. Two days from now will be the thirty-first anniversary of the suicide of a very troubled and quite unforgettable person.

Pain in the Soul

Prompts Used

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-april-pad-challenge-day-6

Write a blank in the blank poem

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-six-9/

Write a variation of an acrostic poem. Rather than spelling out a word with the first letters of each line, write a poem that reproduces a phrase with the first words of each line.

I used my own Haiku, Spring Awakens, as the basis for the acrostic.

The results of the November PAD Chapbook Challenge are in. I didn't win and didn't expect to. I don't think my poetry is quite the host's cup of tea, but I'll keep creating chapbooks anyway, which I will later self-publish because I'm an asshole like that. 

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-results

Days like this I wish I had someone I could pour out the grim and frostbitten contents of my cold black heart to, but I don't and I won't so there's fuck-all use of getting my hopes up for something that isn't going to happen. I know better these days.

~Ornery Owl Has Hooted Into the Void~

Image by Lenka Novotná from Pixabay

Tawddgyrch Cadwynog: The Story of Me

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

left out, cast off

never let in

by friend and kin

misunderstood

never take off

never begin

never will win

she never could

~Cie~

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 1: Once Upon a Time

Image by SnapwireSnaps from Pixabay

Once upon a time

I dreamed

once upon a time

he was

but now there's nothing left

except the misery

as summer disappears

and the barkers burst the colorful balloons

and take down the faire

players only love you

when you bring them money

gas, grass, or ass

no-one rides for free

little boys grow up

become corrupt

use and throw away

stupid girls

once upon a time

I believed in something

once upon a time

I thought someone waited for me

now I know the truth

the only one waiting 'round the corner

to put his arms around me

is death

that no matter where I am

I'm just two steps ahead of that man

some days I'm philosophical

some days I'm scared out of my fucking mind

and some days I'd welcome the bastard

with open arms

once upon a time

you were mine

you loved this wretched, broken thing

but like a leaf on the breeze you blew away

some things are too corrupted to love 

I thought I saw you coming back to me

but then I woke from my dream

the fairytale disappeared

in a puff of smoke

like Little Jackie Paper

you snuffed out your dreams of Puff

dragons aren't real

magic only exists in fairy tales

and love is nothing but a lie

once upon a time

I believed in happy ever after

now I only believe

that dreams vanish

and hearts break

and

everything

dies

~Cie~

Note:

I just found out about the Writers Digest Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge. Now I am playing catch-up. Click here to learn more.

Carpe Diem #1778: Senryu: Alone

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

the one that no-one

ever wanted to include

is still all alone

~Cie~

Notes:

My reason for writing this cheerful little ray of verbal sunshine is this:

I am not in a good place at the moment. 

I've stayed too long at the Bipolar Carnival and things have become a bit nightmarish.

It's a goddamn good thing that I live 50 miles from the nearest city, it's cold and windy and foggy out, and my night vision isn't great. 

Why? So I can't go do something stupid.

I usually revel in being a cranky curmudgeon who keeps myself to myself.

At the moment, I'm just alone in bad company.

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

Carpe Diem #1767: Daisy: A Senryu

golden-eye daisy

I know that he don't love me

'cause nobody do

~Cie~

Notes:

Inspired by the 1892 song "Daisy Bell".

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 2: Changelings: A Senryu Trio

Image by prettysleepy1 from Pixabay

the most docile soul

may transform to a changeling

if abused enough

a child's mind comes to
fear what waits in the darkness
when left all alone

a fantasy world

is better than what is real

for the outsider

~Cie~

Song Inspiration:

Also dedicated to H.P. Lovecraft in honor of his story, The Outsider.
He wrote it about himself.
I always felt as if he could have written it for me.

Carpe Diem Field of Flowers: Honeysuckle

I can remember

the smell of honeysuckle

New Mexico night

~Cie~

Notes:

I recently completed and am about to submit my manuscript for the Insecure Writers' Support Group anthology contest. The genre is middle-grade historical fantasy/action.

I normally write for adults. I find writing for youth extremely challenging. I ended up opting to write a lightly fictionalized autobiography of myself between childhood and my pre-teen years which centered around my imagination and the fantastical fiction genres which inspired me. In writing about myself I ended up opening a lot of pockets of unresolved grief.

The place I lived between the ages of four and nine was a semi-rural pocket in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where people could have small farms and keep chickens and such. We had a very large yard, a half-acre. Unfortunately, the house was in rather a shoddy condition and cockroaches the size of school buses had a tendency to get inside. The bugs are huge in New Mexico, and I was not keen on that. But I did love the little skinks and horned toads and such. We also had many beautiful plants around such as the honeysuckle vines, and the cicadas would sing us to sleep.

I was a very shy child and did not have many friends. The characters I met in fantasy worlds were my friends, as were my pets and the animals in our yard.

Although I was born in the Western United States and raised in the Southwest for a number of years, my parents were both from New York. When certain relatives would visit, they would ridicule my accent. A New Mexico accent is a bit of an off-Texas drawl. To this day, I bristle whenever anyone askes the seemingly innocent question: "where are you from?" To me, that question is loaded.

Troiku Challenge 2019: Day 5: The Aroma of Pine

Pine Tree

the aroma of pine

and the young morning's fresh rain

reach my words

the aroma of pine

in a place long left behind

shadows of what was

and the young morning's fresh rain

cries the tears that I cannot

heart frozen inside

reach my words

but understand not a one

no-one can know me

~Pirate & Cie~

Notes:

The "sleigh" of this Troiku was written by Hamish "Managua" Gunn, aka Pirate. The three (utterly fucking depressing) Horses of the Apocalypse are my creations. Read them and despair. 

I am in rather a bleak mood today. Please, no comments suggesting therapists, drugs, or any of that sort of thing. That shit doesn't work for me. I just have to work my own way out of it.

Tan Renga Challenge 2019: Day 7: Wisteria

Image Source

In the moonlight,

The color and scent of the wisteria

Seems far away.

As far away I think as

My sense of belonging here

Buson & Cie

Notes:

The Hokku (Haiku) stanza of the poem was written by Yosa Buson (1716 - 1784). The Akegu (closing) stanza was written by me.

I have never felt that I belonged in this world. When I was younger, I always hoped I'd find people I belonged with. There have been a few where I feel like they put up with me to a degree or felt sympathy for me, but I have never had a sense of finding my "tribe." The only person I'm really at all close with is my son. I tend to form only very superficial relationships with other people.

Dinners with my mother are perilous and fraught with small talk. She has never approved of any of my choices, and she knows almost nothing about what is really transpiring in my life.

I am not at all close with the other members of my family. I would not recognize most of them if I passed them in the street.

At this point in my life, I do not wish to party and socialize. I have one friend whom I confide in via email, and that means a lot. This friend lives a few thousand miles away from me, so it isn't as if we could get together for coffee.

I have felt a degree of understanding and acceptance from the people participating in this little Tan Renga challenge, which I usually don't get a sense of during such challenges. 

I usually feel as if I am an outsider who has crashed a party when participating in blog hops, and the general sense is "what is that freak doing here at our exclusive soiree?" Some of the blog hops I participate in are very focused on clothing and fashion although other sorts of posts are allowed, and if you don't think I'm an absolute outlier when it comes to fashion, you don't know me at all. I can't afford nice clothes or even new clothes, and I look like an unmade bed most of the time.

One would think that I would feel more at home with creative blog hops, but I usually don't. I've been surprised by the feeling of peace I've gained participating in this one. Maybe it's just that no-one has attacked me yet. Hopefully, we can do without that happening this time.

Tan Renga Challenge 2019: A Lonely Fire

Image Source

smoldering fireplace

the sweet perfume of burned herbs

loneliness grabs my throat

Am I doomed to be alone

For all of this foolish life?

Chevrefuelle & Cie

Notes:

Chevrefuelle wrote the first stanza (the Haiku) and I wrote the second stanza (the two seven-syllable lines).

NaPoWriMo 2019: Day 18: A Soul Dull and Filled with Pain

I Blinked and the World Was Gone Version 5

Copyright The Real Cie

A life lost and lonely from first cry

A soul not soothed by any lullaby

Days are hopeless, dull, and filled with pain

Till the moment when the unwanted ones are left alone to die

~Cie~

Notes:

The poem style is Rubai. This is a brief poetry form requiring the story to be told in four lines. I believe I have accomplished this.

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 15 + Poems in April 2019 Day 4 & 15: The Haibun Ballad of Cie

My Eyes Have Seen Version 4

Photoshop Manipulation by The Real Cie

(Yes, that's my big, ugly, Neanderthal forehead)

So, you want to know about me.

My truth will make you uncomfortable. You may end up thinking that I’m lying because surely in modern society, nobody could be allowed to fall through the cracks that much. But you asked, and so I’ll answer as briefly as possible.

I was born in 1965 in Denver, Colorado to a doctoral student in literature who had once wished to travel the country like his hero, Jack Kerouac, and his wife, a former nurse with a degree in fine arts.

My parents had abandoned the church but returned to it when I was seven years old. My then-three-year-old brother and I were baptized and became Catholic.

My bipolar disorder onset when I hit puberty, and I was always misunderstood.

I am fifty-four years old and live in poverty.

If you are broken

If you are damaged or odd

You will be cast out

~Cie~

(Telling it like it is)

Prompt #4

Prompt #15

Notes:

By the way, I do write flash fictions in Haibun form because I like to.

Come at me!
Let me be clear.
I sometimes use the Haibun form to write flash fictions because I like the goddamn form.
THIS PIECE IS NOT FICTION. THIS PIECE IS AS REAL AS IT FUCKING GETS.
I was being cheeky when I invited people to come at me for messing with the Haibun.
It's not like anyone's ever going to read my damn flash fiction Haibuns, for fuck's sake!
I've requested that this poem be removed from the Linky. I do not take kindly to being called a liar.
I also tend to adhere to the belief that whatever gets you through another day is more important than poetic propriety. I fell in love with the Haibun form many years ago. No, I don't always conform to the letter of the law, but it's not as if I have any popularity or influence. My flash fiction "Haibuns" are mostly on private blogs that the world will never see. It's a way to take my mind off my pain, whether physical or psychological. It's a way to make the world go away for a while. That's it, that's all. I really don't think that my having a bit of a lark with the form is the same as me being like:

But, who knows? I think I'm a hot mess of a steaming pile of nothing in the middle of nowhere. Still, I suppose I could be having a powerful influence on millions and will destroy centuries-old poetic forms by my idiotic adaption of them to my own stupid fool needs.
If I am that influential, y'all bastards and bitches really need to pony up and get me my money. Because someone as influential as me needs way more bling than I can afford on the $9500 I made last year.
Anyway...

The ending verse was inspired by a quote from the character John River, portrayed by the brilliant Swedish actor Stellan Skarsgard.
I think that's all I have to say about that.

In this world, no-one can be different or strange or damaged, or they lock you up.

--John River

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 28: LONE

Copyright: grandfailure / 123RF Stock Photo

LONE

Lonely

Lonely me

I feel unwanted

I feel undeserving

I fear I'm fatally flawed

LONE, lonely me, fatally flawed

~Cie and Pepper~

Notes:

Here is another work which is autobiographical to the author and also descriptive of Fetch's female protagonist, Pepper Baiij.

I desperately want to get back to working on stories again. I am lost without them.

At least I met Gem on the astral plane while in a troubled sleep that I hoped never to wake from.

In a world that wants sunshine, flowers, chirping birds, and unicorn farts, I bring you depressing poetry. Hence, I walk alone through this life.

~Cie~

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 10: H is for Haze

Copyright: andreiuc88 / 123RF Stock Photo

A mist shrouds my eyes

And I drift back in time

To days lost in a haze

You want me to paint a picture

Of a reality

That perhaps did not exist

Except inside the lonely heart

Of a girl lost in a dream

~Helena~ 

 

OctPoWriMo 2016: Day 16: In-Depth

Click to Enlarge

Copyright: milktap / 123RF Stock Photo

Has anyone ever dared

To look into my mind in-depth

To see who I really am

Has anybody ever cared

To walk the path in step

To find out about this man

This lonely man, this broken soul

The one who's left out in the cold

Who will miss me when I'm gone

Who will ask themselves why

Will you miss the singer or the song

What kind of tears will you cry

I always felt like I didn't belong

I was only a silent sigh

Gerry Clifford

Form:

Alfred Dorn Sonnet

http://thepoetsgarret.com/2012Challenge/form24.html

https://poetsonthepage.blogspot.com/