The Weight of My Heart

 

Free use image by Egor Myznik on Unsplash

Text art and effects added by Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl

You are welcome to use the image, but please credit me.

Click to enlarge.

my life seems serene

to those viewing the surface

veiled chaos beneath.

when it is placed on the scale

to be weighed by Anubis

my heart is heavy.

I am again rejected

forever misunderstood.

Notes

A couple of prompts inspired me but I didn't correctly adhere to either of them.

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/08/30/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-53/

Prompt word: scale

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-667

Write a restless poem.

My Ordinary Moments: Please Read The Letter -- A poet's plea -- WEP Jun...

My Ordinary Moments: Please Read The Letter -- A poet's plea -- WEP Jun...: In order to dust off my writing cobwebs, I decided to participate (for the very first time) in WEP's June Challenge. It’s the year of Mu...

Well, I felt that! I try to maintain a cavalier attitude about rejections because I eventually self-publish everything. However, there was one day when I opened my Submittable account only to see some 40 rejections staring me in the face and I dove headlong into a week-long downward spiral. 

This is a really neat form. I'm almost 60 years old and have been writing poetry since I was in the first grade. I've never seen this form before.

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~

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 22: Broken Pieces

Image by Peter H from Pixabay

I was born broken

Broken under a bad sign

Sign that says "keep away"

Away from this heart of mine

I will never be whole

Whole life spent with a heavy heart

Heart that was broken before I was born

Born into a life that tore me apart

You'll never find me embracing light

Light and lies are all the same

Same pretenders to goodness everywhere

My strength lies in not playing their game

I run for my life, hide from the light

Light which exposes too much of my soul

Soul embracing the darkness inside

Inside a broken heart long gone cold

~Cie~

Notes:

Loop Poetry is a poetry form created by Hellon. There are no restrictions on the number of stanzas nor on the syllable count for each line. In each stanza, the last word of the first line becomes the first word of line two, last word of line 2 becomes the first word of line 3, last word of line 3 becomes the first word of line 4. This is followed for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abcb.

Sorry, but your girl Cie ain't feeling the whole question and answer part of the prompt. Make of this poem what you will.

Song inspirations follow!

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 21: Screaming Inside Myself

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I'm screaming into the wind

enough is enough

I've had it with having to let go

nobody ever wants to hold on

to the ugly one

to the one no-one pursues

to the one men go out with on a dare

memories of being the laughingstock

overwhelm me

I want to hide inside forever

I want to dance a little

but my body is broken

I don't laugh and sing in my dreams

I don't expect anything

except more rejection

don't reach out

stay inside

run and hide

nobody hears

and if they hear they don't listen

and if they listen

they don't understand

I'm forever screaming inside myself

because I know nobody hears

~Cie~

Notes:

Sorry, but I'm rubbish at making shape poems and I just got through writing a book review and I haven't even gotten to writing a chapter in my own story yet, so you get this tortured-scream free verse, in part inspired by the song I'm about to share, one to which I've been able to relate to all too well in my life.

Please, I implore you, this is one of those don't try to fix me pieces. Let me let it bleed. If there's one place a person ought to be able to express the dark, the bitter, the broken, that place is poetry.

Also, please don't say "I hope this isn't autobiographical."

It is, and saying that will not make it not autobiographical.

Let me let it bleed.
The aftermath of bullying is forever.

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #107: Soliloquy No Renga: One Starry Night

Starry Night by Alex Ruiz

one starry night

to make that one painting -

the rustling leaves

as summer draws to a close

and the green leaves turn to gold

on one starry night
so many years in the past
years rushed by so fast
a foolish girl made a wish
that could never come to pass

she would never be
Venus Anadyomene
more Pickman's model
never seen through eyes of love
always used and tossed aside

the rustling of leaves
as they crunch beneath the shoes
of a broken crone
step hobbled and hair of gray
dead dreams lie within her heart

summer draws to close
life's flame is growing dimmer
she hides in the dark
tortured by the memory
of a girl who wanted more

green leaves turn to gold
golden strands of hair to gray
no matter the shade
she was never beautiful
her heart is cold as winter

~Chèvrefeuille & Cie~

Notes:

The first Hokku was created by Chèvrefeuille. The rest of this mess you can blame on me.

Shout-outs to Sandro Botticelli and H.P. Lovecraft. Can you spot their influence?

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 Renga with Jane Reichhold: Placing the Flute

Image Source

wind perfumed

from a woman's shoulder

desert night

beauty of the soul hidden

beneath harsh exterior

dancing on the beach

I jab a stick into the sky

to break up the blue

blue for those loved by the world

sky is never blue for me

days so complete

words become the calls of birds

the high tide wind

what would it be to feel joy

satisfied at the day's end

placing the flute

against her lips something

slips into place

stupid girl that I once was

believing I could be more

I'm not old

all night my eyes have held

the ancient stars

I was broken before birth

my heart has never been young

moon white water

lovers in the secret cove

Saturday night

I walk on by full knowing

there is nothing there for me

~Jane & Cie~

Notes:

It's possible that for once in my train wreck of an existence I managed to follow directions and didn't, say, create Troiku where Renga was called for. SMDH at my failure to brain when it comes to even the simplest things.

The Hokku (Haiku) of these Renga were created by Jane Reichhold (1937 - 2016). The Ageku (two-line stanza) were created by me.

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 2015: Day 15: Without Rejection

To just be myself

To tell the truth within me

And be accepted

Notes:

I suppose this is a "Senryu," as there is a sense of irony. However, it isn't satirizing anything. I would call it a "Haiku," but that would probably get me chastised by poetic purists. 

I wanted to keep the poem very simple so as to force myself to say only what really needed to be said. I tend to run on if allowed.

The prompt asked us to imagine having a day where we could do anything we wanted, and to describe our wildest dreams. This is mine.

Also, I would be able to call my short 5-7-5 poems Haikus and not be chided for doing so.

~Fae~

Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 



Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 

I shall become an illeist

As I write this bit of fizzle

It may seem a thing of great conceit

When one drones on about oneself like drizzle

 

The Cheese is not an android

She often makes herself a fool

She's at the intersection between too closed and too open

Her defensive posture leads to ridicule

 

The Cheese is kind of ghetto

She has skin as pale as zinc

Some say a body like a draftsack

Most men from her would shrink

 

In her younger days, she liked to make mischief

But she had a heart of gold

Now her heart is hard as brick

Her once loving spirit is cold

 

It sometimes seems she might strangle

In the tangled web her psyche weaves

It might seem she doesn't know how to give love

In truth, she doesn't know how to receive

 

So now you know a little bit about Cheesy

And this might not seem to be very nice

But there might be a lesson for you to heed

In knowing folk with unlucky rolls on life's dice

 

Cie AKA Cheesy

 

 

 

Party Time

 

It's always a painful thing

To be the unpretty one

In a group of pretty people having fun

 

Paint your smile on

Pretend it doesn't bother you

Though you'd give anything

To feel a little pretty too

 

~Illsa "Never The Pretty Girl" Gorrey~