I seem to be in such a slump,
Can someone tell me why?
I don’t feel like doing anything,
Should I laugh or cry…
It seems that my ambition has completely vanished
Fell down a deep, dark hole,
And if I dare to catch it,
I’d have to sell my soul…
There’s not enough Ice-cream or chocolate in the world,
There’s definitely not enough teeth!
Someone save this girl!
I’m trying to do something,
That will help my state of mind,
Something to take the stress away,
But there’s nothing I can find
Oh brighter days, where art thou?
Move away from all those clouds
And shine yourself upon me,
Rid me of this doubt!
Source: Shrouded by clouds
It was so kind of her to take me out for hotdogs. She didn’t have to, but she did. And It was divine. Onions and pickles to die for. Sauce oozing, if you wished it. Their bread was just the right texture for it.And some even say “Dinglewood chilli has magic dust in it.” I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but hey, I’m not complaining. Mrs. Pomfrey mopped up the sauce from my face. Yes I ate without inhibition. This would have been a comical sight for anyone, considering I was seventeen. I stared down at the drops on my messy shirt in exasperation.I remember that day fondly.
I liked Mrs. Pomfrey. A tiny, silver-haired women, with twinkling stars for eyes. And a smile that stretched from ear to ear. It was hard to be miserable around her. And there were days when I needed her more than I cared to show. Whether she knew this on not, she was always cheery when she heard the doorbell ring. It surprised me that she had no kids of her own… but it was rumoured that they had tried.
At one particular time, I had been more depressed than usual… My mom and dad were going through a divorce. I didn’t ‘t want that to happen, but it was not like what I wanted mattered anyway. It was for the best they said, they no longer communicated and there was little, if any, love between them now. Dad worked late all the time, mum grew tired. But there was nobody else, he swore.
The shed was loaded with the brown cardboard boxes that held all of dad’s belongings, to be picked up when the deal on his new place came through. Until then, an unsteady looking raft, with a makeshift tent and a few supplies, housed him. He was stationed at the Chelsea lake, a few miles from us, but isolated nonetheless. He hadn’t been one to waste money on hotels, one of the many reasons for their separation. And for food, he said his catch of the day would suffice. “I’m an old time fisherman” he told me. “Besides, I need a few weeks to myself.”
Then, I told all of this to Mrs. Pomfrey, and she listened tentatively. Hugging me afterwards. “You know, you could stay with me for a few days…”At first I jumped at the idea but then I thought of mum… she needed me. It was hard enough seeing her, with her tear-stained face all the time and since she was at home all day, after taking a two week leave period from work, it was all she did. Cry and lay on the couch in her pyjamas.
My senior year in high school meant having extra classes wherever they could fit them in. So I wasn’t of much support to mum. And leaving her to stay with Mrs Pomfrey would just have been selfish.So I declined, but still visited her every weekend. Plus on the days I really needed her. She said that “Good things don’t always last, sometimes we have to let go.” She looked at the picture of Mr Pomfrey, hanging over the fire-place.
What she said has always stayed with me. And now five years after my parents divorce, I’m so grateful to have met her. She got me through my tough days at college, my depression… everything. And now I sit here, ready to read a eulogy. My fascination and admiration for that beautiful soul, goes beyond earthly measures.
The Iron writer 500-1000 word challenge. Choose three of these 4 elements and use the photo for inspiration. 1,000 word limit:
A Dinglewood Scramble Dog (see Columbus, Ga.)
a kind deed
Source: Mrs. Pomfrey
Dusky sun glowing,
Mountains await chilly night
Fire burning brightIron
Poet Challenge #35
Poetic Form: Haiku
Turning back the hands of time, Would things work out some other way had I chose different? Trying to step in a new direction to make things work but thoughts bring forth hindrance. Should I stay or should I go? Lest I should lose it all, I’m caught between the two. On either side mountains loom, A raging river in between Music in the distance,An air of melancholy, Adding to my blues, The horn blows, And a clock rings in a new hour The road forks out, Waiting to be tread on, Stuck where I am, My decision holds me back, My fear of the unknown.-Written for #TheIronWriter #Poetry Challenge #33
Not an inch of space
To spare Hands waving
As they start to sing,
Shining bling, glimmering
Each other on shoulders
As emotions run high
The crowd goes wild
Fuel to fire
When they render performance
Grabbing at the air
The above catalog poem was a challenge in The Iron Writer. The theme: First Concert.
Tossing and turning. My eyes close but I cannot fall asleep. I try. Sleep knows I do. But no, he won’t give in so easily. My mind wanders. Bits and pieces of images and thoughts wander around, inside my tired brain. For all the thoughts it fills with as I lay it down on my pillow, one would swear I usually walk around with an empty head. I blink rapidly, evoking him. But he only laughs at me. As soon as I feel I’m within reach of him, I jerk awake, eyes wide open. A sudden jolt and I lay there feeling silly. I take a shot at counting sheep. No joy. I may as well be one myself. Prancing around, so carefree. Except, I’m not so carefree. Hence the reason why sleep is avoiding me. Does he not know how much I need him? Or maybe he does, and he is revelling in my torment? I feel the clock’s ticking now, in rhythm with my breathing. Unable to hear it though, as my noisy thoughts drown everything else out.I wish there was a switch that we could control at will. With a flick of a button we’d be in dream-land. No need to wander around aimlessly, waiting to drift into the land of rest. No need to be ignored by him. I sense his presence, hovering around, mocking me. Staring at the wall I look around the room with perfect night-vision. Too tired to physically move to try doing anything else, and too awake to fall asleep. I listen jealously to all the snores erupting from around the house. What grievances does he have with me? We will surely have to discuss this. I close my eyes and then suddenly, there’s bright lights all around me, streaming in from the windows. The birds are chirping away noisily. Morning comes, uninvited. My head is about to burst.Image sourced from google.
Source: Abandoned by Sleep…