the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time


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Day 309 – Rediscoveries

While you’ve been away, I think I’ve found courage
See, I’ve been trying to make sense of it.
I thought I had lost it in the darkness of lonely nights.
For a second I thought I never knew it.

Can you believe it?
I thought that I had simply lost it alongside my disappearing pairs of socks.
Like I had misplaced it among a mass of haystacks
As if I had simply laid it down while I finished another chore or two

Well, after some contemplative nights of
Wading through puddles of tears
Pillows damped by such rainfall
I arose

I lifted my falling eyelids,
Propped them up as best as I could and, boy, did I see the light

Can you believe it?
That I saw courage once more?
I found it in the footsteps that I was to take.
In the chess moves that I was to make.
In the pound and throb of my heartache.

I found courage when others would have surrendered,
But I know better than to give up.


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Day 302 – From the Sponge, To the Boiling Pot

*Inspired by Sarah Kay

You were enticing, though I knew you could burn me if you really wanted.
And I was warned to be cautious around you, since you have a tendency to boil over.
But for the record, watching you from across the kitchen was my favorite thing to do.
Encompassed in your sleek pot, with a handle for which one is to gently lift you.

See, though I learned to wash away filth, I always soak in those around me.
And I’m guilty of absorbing you more than a time or two.
And cleaning up after your messes weren’t always easy.
But I got the job done.

Part of me feels that I’m unfinished, with all of these holes in my being.
But I know that I’m just open.
I put up no boundaries to guard from unwanted adventurers.
No, I simply let them in, and trust them (perhaps a little too much).

But with you, I was more than eager to drink you in.
And you’d warm me up with your tenderness.
You were the best kind of mess I could clean up. But also the worst.

Sometimes, you know, you’d just sit still, at room temperature.
Difficult to read, I was not sure how to move around you.
And when the fire was hot enough, you’d boil into tantrums of
Scalding-hot oblivion. Your bubbling water would threaten to attack me.

And on those off-days of yours, you’d evaporate into thin air.
You’d release into the atmosphere as steam,
And soon you’d be out of my reach.
I couldn’t contain you even if I tried.

One day, I hope that you can condense back into the
Pores of me, for they are empty.
Waiting to be replenished
By your abundance.

See, I believe that you have the ability to change.
To freeze into a solid.
Perhaps be my sturdy brick of ice that cools me down when I get a little to hot.
And when we’re both at a calm,
You can melt back into your,
Ever-moving self,
And dance with me.

‘Cause I’ll never stop wanting to wash up after you.
Even if you’re on the other side of the kitchen,
Sitting atop your stove-top pedestal.
I have the window’s sunlight behind me,
And I’ll let it shine to you.
And maybe you’ll come back home.


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Day 240 – With Clarity

Seeking a way out — but reminded: there is one
For now, there is no way that has been proclaimed
No exit sign above the selected doorway
Nor are there ending credits to signal the release

Instead, a seemingly endless space of time
Where the stars are stretched light years apart
And sound travels slowly, cries taking years to reach help
Pray that there is no further offset in the balance

For a beam exists, wavering in doubt
Yearning to present this way: out
And the toil and desperation, a call for mercy
Oh, someone please present us mercy

Send us on to less threatening tides
Stop the clouds from voraciously engulfing us
Keep the stars strong, shining deep through the darkness
And the light from the moons reflecting and rejoicing

Somewhere, this way awaits us
We search in distress, but with hope
Not with intimate honesty, but with clarity
So when it presents itself, we shall know the way.