2 Last Call: Direction Impaired

Direction Impaired.egg on Aviary.

---

Direction Impaired

Never lost -- only misplaced

I remember the lesson well,
the words spoken
upon encountering
a poorly posted detour.
It's all about retracing your steps
finding your way back--
locating that last identifiable marker
before all went south.

Never lost -- only misplaced

I can't begin to count
the number of times
those words
have echoed in my head.
It's all about remaining calm;
taking the next U-Turn--
making a K-Turn,
so you can reverse the traveled path.

Never lost -- only misplaced

But what...
                 what if you take too long
to realize you're misplaced?
                 what if you can't recall
every twist and turn?
                what if in retracing your steps
you end up in an endless cycle
passing the same landmark
over and over and over again?

Never lost -- only misplaced

I'm
       lost
and asking for directions
not an option;
there is no GPS for life.
So how do I find my way back?

Never lost -- only misplaced

Perhaps finding my way back
is
    the wrong direction;
perhaps my logic
is
    misplaced;
perhaps I need to stop trying
to find where I went off course,
but rather focus on where
I wish to be.

Never lost -- only misplaced

those words
                    keep echoing
in my head.

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It took awhile for this pom seed to take root; I didn't use the original lines I thought I might, but we should just be happy it found its footing otherwise I would have had to write about paper towels.

Pom Seed:  Just Misplaced

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Having decided to hop back up on the stage, this is my offerings for the dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight.  If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.

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1 Time Capsule: Haiku

Title:  Haiku
Date:  between 11/15/93 and 06/14/94 (probably in or about April)
Setting:  Senior year of high school--written as part of a poetry unit in English class.
Form:  haiku (technically speaking it merely follows the 5-7-5 syllabic three line criteria for a haiku, which means haiku is a tad incorrect)

In the thick moonlight,
   a mourning dove sings its song,
      while death takes its toll.

Notes:  

I know the title was not very creative.  I should probably take the time to reevaluate and perhaps find a more appropriate title, but....  

When I first started exploring poetry as an outlet, I wasn't very good about dating things.  Luckily, I was good at maintaining chronological order.  The poem directly following this--which I also wrote as part of English class--is called Earthday (again not very creative on the title front for this acrostic poem).  Given that Earth Day is in April, I can say with some certainty that this was written in or about that month.

One of the reasons I chose this poem as my first Time Capsule entry was because of my English class.  As part of a culminating activity, each member of the class was asked to write one of their poems on a blank sheet of white paper.  We then all sat around in a circle, passed the poems around, and comment on them.  As I mentioned in my last post, I have never really been big on the whole sharing thing.  I actually had two poems sent around.  In inevitably I will probably share the other one as well.  

Artifact I:  Original poem written on yellow paper during class.

Artifact II:  The results of sending my poem around the circle of classmates.

0 ...DODTA... reset

January 9, 2010...I kicked off this blog with a poem called my subconscious.  It had been a long while since I had written anything.  Dry spells like that have never really been unusual.  Starting this blog gave me a chance to rediscover a part of me that I have a shaking love-hate relationship with.

This was not a side of me that I cared to share--not even really with myself.  There are very few people who were privy to this part of me.  I got a little bold in college when I started my Poetry List (a group whom I sent impromptu poem emails to whether they wanted them or not).  After college the Poetry List went by the wayside.  I tried several years ago reinstating it with a different medium, but I wasn't really ready to be out there again.  Considering all this it is seems odd that I would have started ...don't open...don't throw away....  But then again, just because I put myself out there in a public place didn't mean anyone would find me.  


Maybe if I had realized how insanely irrational my social anxiety is, I may not have taken that chance.  It seems crazy that this medium (even though relatively face-less) would only stroke my irrational anxiety enriched brain.  As much as I would like to deny it...as much as I may have tried to fight it...the truth is this most resent dry spell was induced by the part of me I try desperately to fight against.  It just isn't so easy to fight on two fronts (real-world and cyber-world).

I'm not really sure I'm ready to come back.  Not sure I want to pick up this fight again.  Part of me thinks I should start over from scratch and see how long it takes for me to once again be noticed in this quite public--global--world.  I don't know.  I guess I'm not quite ready to give up.

So on that note, I am taking up arms.  When I first started this blog, I set up a set of rule to assist me in dedicating myself to the task at hand.  Those rules will remain inactive as they have been for quite some time.  But I think it is important for me to find something that forces my hand (or typing fingers).  Instead of rules, I will follow three theme days.  If I write in between them...then yeah.  If not, at least it is a start.

Sundays:  Time Capsule--the idea here is to travel back in time...way back in time.  I took a look back over my Poetic Journey (02/19/2011) in a post inspired by OneStopPoetry.  I think it might be fun to delve a little deeper; see where I came from; maybe even poke a little fun at how bad some of the things I wrote were.  And while this post may not include something new, I do hope to reminisce about the inspiration (or whatever) that lead to the creation being presented.

Wednesdays:  Last Call--(if I was smart I would neglect this one, but I believe in facing one's fears.)  On these days I will once again stand up in the spotlight, stretch my vocal muscles, push my nerves aside and take the mic up over at the dVerse Poets Pub--I figure if I make it in just in time for last call most everyone will have left for the evening....one can hope right?

Fridays:  Can I Have This Dance?--the one thing that I can always count on to provide solace is music.  To that end, I dedicate this day to a song inspired piece...whether some inane ramblings, a poem or a wicked tale...my fingers will dance to the soothing sound of song. 

Tomorrow starts things off.  I'm taking myself all the way back to high school for this first piece.  See you then.

1 I'm trying to find my way back...

(random thought: I can't keep hugging this tree hoping someone will find me.)

1 first lines...

i started four times...but nothing wishes to grow...

1)  i hear the words but still deny their truth

2)  i hear the words but still deny my worth

3)  for once, i wish the words not pour of me
     just from me

4)  i grasp for something outside of myself

0 threads

frayed edges cascade--
wisps tickling every sense
itching to be pulled
but one small tug I fear
will at last unravel me

0 Should I be disappointed with myself?

April is basically half over and what do I have to show for it?  One measly little poem.  I had every intention to reinstate myself during National Poetry Month with a poem-a-day.  I managed it last year--and then some.  But I am still not quite ready to find my way back to my creative half.  I prefer wallowing apparently. 

I have started reading again.  It has been a long time since I have done that.  Between being too busy, no longer having the summers to read, never really taking a vacation, and lack of motivation to pick up a book (lot easier to pick up the remote--plus I did focus alot over the past couple of years on my writing), I have not really cracked open a book for the simple joy of escaping into another world.  My that is just what I need...a little escape from myself.

I have been thinking about writing.  Every once in awhile I hope on here--a place I have seem to have deserted--wanting to writing, trying to write, or talking about trying and wanting to write.  In thinking back, this break is really not all that unusual.  If I look back over my writings, I can find long gaps in the timeline...years even.  Maybe I've just hit one of those plataus.  Who knows.  But if the past has anything to say, I will find my way back.  The only real question is when.