Poetry Pals - Week 47 - A Simple Prompt

An oldie but goldie.

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Hello my wonderful poetry people,

This week on

Poetry Pals

Nelly challenged us to look behind the meanings of what we say. Seeing beyond and into something different. A very interesting and intriguing idea. (Hence the pic)

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Nelly kept the prompt simple for our addled Xmas brains this week for which I thank her as I’m 2 weeks behind stuck on sestinas! 😳😵‍💫🤯

When I tell you xxxxx (or you could mix this up with - when I do xxx), what I mean is….yyyyyy

I was thinking about this idea that sometimes what we say isn’t always exactly what we mean. Or has another layer that is left unsaid. You could even start with the line, ‘Most days’ if that helps you to slide you right in to some writing

Now, I do have 2 I’m still working on that are of the ‘When I xxx’ ilk but they aren’t ready enough yet. But I do have one from the archives, that actually fits the prompt - hoorah - written before I started seeking an Autism diagnosis and in a space where I wasn’t physically doing well and therefore in a mental slump, and so was misinterpreting a LOT without understanding the autism lens I needed to apply. And this one is more of the sort of poem about love that Nelly talked about. The end stanza is a mantra I developed to remind me that, basically, this too shall pass and it’s no one’s fault, I just need to wait.

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Some Days

Most days the love you feel for me is palpable
And I float through the day easily, breezily
Buoyed on that love and my love for you
I need both to keep afloat
Most days the love is palpable

Some days the lack I feel from you is palpable
And the day is dark and long
That lack drags at me and my love for you
Thickening the air around it 
Making it harder for it to find its way to you
Some days the lack is palpable and I sink

Some days are harder than others. 
Some days are harder than others.
Some days are harder than others.

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I shall work more on the others and maybe a sestina too, though actually probably not a sestina. I will become my poetry nemesis for a while until, one day, all of a sudden, I will have something much more important to do and then it will become all consuming until it’s done ( and probably, annoyingly, quickly).

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Till next time, peeps. Tx

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