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The Need to Bleed.

Good morning. I just woke up.

I had my reservations when deciding to join the Promising Poets Cafe, but as Jingle explained the rules in more detail in his comment to this post, I decided it to give it a go. Besides, it would be awesome to read some new material.

I couldn’t have been more right. I found some amazing pieces of poetry… it goes to show that you can find beauty anywhere, you just have to know where to look. Anyway, I did my reading just now (I’ve posted comments on three so far) and it’s a refreshing change to most of the nonsense that the Internet feeds me every morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love nonsense. haha. I love humor. But it’s nice to have a cup of coffee and read some insightful verses for a change, as early int the morning as this. I don’t read that much poetry online now, and I kinda missed it. I can’t believe I didn’t do this earlier.

What I noticed is that most of the poems I found beautiful are poems about grief and misery. This made me wonder, “Do poets really need to bleed to juice out those kind of verses?” In my own experience, I think that in poetry, beauty and misery go hand in hand. I’ve always thought I’ve written some of my best poems when I’m sad. I have a couple of nice poems that portrays happy images, but I think they won’t compare to that force and emotion that poets always exhibit when in grief.  It’s ironic how you would really like a particular piece of sad poem, which is kind of awkward, because it (in my own opinion) is kind of like saying, “Hey, writer, that’s awesome… I wish you were always this sad so you could write poems as beautiful as these,” although we all know that that’s truly not the point… it’s just that, sad poems do always have these complications. It’s like the morning after of a one-night stand: when all is said and done and everything is expressed and blurted out, all you want to do is get out of bed, walk away, and forget all about it… you would wish, but it will almost always haunt you back, because you cannot just ignore it no matter how much you make yourself believe that the events that led to it were trivial. Much like how you can’t just write a simple poem for your grief; it’s too important it deserves something this beautiful.

Anyway, time is always running. Everything passes, and years later we could look back at these events, at these poems we wrote off of one of the greatest muses that is misery, and say with a smile on our face… “I never regret I did that.”

Here’s one piece I particularly liked, from a blog called The 6th Symphony:



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Just got home from work, and schyeah, it’s *cha-ching!* pay day (meaning the day I pay my debts and loans back). 

My day at work, as usual, had been boring. Not much paper today, and I felt sleepy the whole afternoon. I even took a nap for about ten minutes, and believe me, I rarely  take naps.

So on my way home I decided to take a walk to the nearest mall, you know, to just cruise or something. Then I spotted this cute/kawaii (can’t believe I used that word) store that sells, well, cute stuff.


>> They list the plastic bag as P 0.01 on the receipt. Finally, a store that honestly tells you, “Sir, you’ll be paying for that bag.”

The store’s name is “Clipper” and they sell gifts, uh… bags, and, well uhm… ehem, stationeries. One look at what’s displayed at the front of the store and I knew I would love it. Sorry I didn’t take a photo with my cell because, well, there’s too many people walking around and stuff and I don’t want them to see me, taking pictures of cute green frogs and bears and all those pink stuff sold at the store. Just… no.

Anyway, I went inside, and I asked for a chocolate jar.  Something cute, see-through (glass), that you could store chocolate candies in. I thought that’d be neat. The saleslady told me that “We don’t have glass jars, but we do have these, sir,” pointing to a jar-like creature on the top of a shelf.  She showed me:

durrlahhh>>mfw brown bear jar.

Taa-daa! A brown transparent bear!!! And I thought to myself, “Yes. This is it. This is gonna be the thing that’ll hold all my chocolate candies for the rest of my life. I’m gonna name her Darla…” then I said to the sales lady, “YES. I’ll take that.” So she seemed happy and stuff so I left her in a good mood, I guess, as I took Darla home. I don’t know how her mood’s relevant to the story.

I bought a bag of Ricoa Flat Tops (Google it, really?) before I walked my way home and made Darla hold them. YES. She is complete.  She’s getting used to the environment. I think she’ll like it here.


>>Darla, that’s a computuhrrr.
>>*it’s b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l* :’)
>>Yes, it is, Darla. Yes, it is. 

So that was how I met Darla. I can’t wait ’til Adrianne meets her, too. XD

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lol found this photo on 4chan’s /mu/ board (click on the image to enlarge):

I find it funny.

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Some Thanks.

I just want to thank Promising Poets’ Poetry Cafe and Promising Poets’ Parking Lot for featuring my poem “Aquaken!” on their page, leading to some rise in my poetry blog’s (see Links sidebar) traffic. Thanks for seeing me as a potential writer, and even inviting me to their “Thursday Poets Rally,” some poetry contest, as I understand it (click the Parking Lot link for details).

I also thank those who took the time to read, comment, and even rate “Aquaken!” I personally am interested in entering the contest, however I think the rules are kinda… itchy (I can’t describe it any other way). I think rules 1 and 2 are fine, and Rule 3.2 is a bit manageable (it would even be helpful to new bloggers/writers…), but it’s 3.1 I can’t make heads or tails of:

1): Return favors to those who have commented for you.

I don’t know what this means. So I stopped there. If that would mean I have to say every last good thing for those who said mine were good as well, then I think it goes without saying that rooms for improvement won’t be so popular here. haha, I’m not even… you know, I’m just saying. 😀 Peace. If I’m wrong in understanding this “return a favor” thing then let me know.

Oh yeah, thanks to Ina, Butch Dean, and Erbdex for the comments and like.


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