Can I be Someone Else, Please? – Personal Poetry Collection

A friend said something. I got upset. That emotion turned its focus on me and these frustrated words of self-hatred resulted. Thought it’d be the appropriate poem for this week as the rotation I’m in is notorious for the dietitians beating down all your self worth and making you feel like you are the scum of the earth. Let’s hope not. I do a great job of that by myself.

March 22, 2019

Can I be Someone Else, Please?

Fuck!

I suck!

It’s not just a rut;

I am shut.

 

Shut, shot, shoot!

Wish I could give myself the boot!

All that I am loot

And live not giving a hoot!

 

Breathe.

Don’t seethe.

All I need

is to be someone else…

 

Geeze!

I’m such a tease!

Not even honestly I can sneeze.

Please!

Rid me of me: my disease.

Social Anxiety – Personal Poetry Collection

I wrote this during the last nutrition conference I went to. I felt incredibly awkward and disconnected with the room of dietitians. My fellow interns were socializing and networking with dietitians they’d gone to rotations with while I avoided everyone. It was just me stuck in my head. Instead of socializing, I wrote this.

March 22, 2019

Social Anxiety

The taste of mint

making me sick

It makes me tick

having to pick

yet still getting a kick.

 

Color a bluish tint

I begin to sink.

down I go, plink

thinking I was mink

when I’m not even in the rink.

 

No longer a hint

goes down like buttermilk

thick but smooth like silk

My truth, myself I bilk

as do my ilk

 

Even so, alone I tilt

and quietly I wilt.

I Wasn’t Always Mute – Personal Poetry Collection

I wrote this as I waited to be reprimanded by the director of my nutrition internship. This whole internship/education thing seemed useless. I felt jaded and incredibly small. I felt dispensable and like a cog in the horribly flawed machine of life. Helpless. That’s how I felt.

October 26, 2018

I Wasn’t Always Mute

My life choices have brought me here,

dreams and hopes so shimmery sheer.

 

Nothing makes sense.

My jaw is tense.

I’m on the fence.

 

Why am I here?

I wanted adventure, excitement.

Now I just repent

that I let myself be sent,

let myself be bent.

Don’t know if I broke…

 

If so, this is a joke!

I’m just some ruined bloke.

Who fought and spit,

but never spoke.

 

That’s all I’ve become:

a spoke.

Instead of a speak.

You are Going to Have to Figure this Out on Your Own – Personal Poetry Collection

Junior year in university when my first romantic relationship was going sour, I wrote this poem reminding myself that I mustn’t rely on anyone but myself. It still rings true today.

April, 5 2017

You are Going to Have to Figure this Out on Your Own

 

On my own,

There is nothing that I own.

 

This is nothing new.

Despite my might,

since I could think, I knew

I am no more than a mite.

 

No one will hear,

or see beyond first sight.

Nothing more for me than here.

Where my words no one will cite.

 

And that is right!

Of the night,

why would one write,

instead of a knight?

 

I am a single cell.

Nothing together to sew.

Nothing to sell

and no will to sow.

 

On my own,

I mourn

there is nothing that I own,

this or any morn’.

Waiting Time – Personal Poetry Collection

Not much is happening this week so, I felt this poem appropriate. Thank high school me for this one again!

February 13, 2013

Waiting Time

 

The waiting time comes around again-

Not in one state or another.

Dread the next phase or calmly

wait. Let go of time. Blank

the mind and stop- wait.

Contemplate. Be

at peace at

last, Just

wait.

Hark – Personal Poetry Collection

I’m feeling good this week. Like I can do anything. I rarely write poetry when I feel this way, but the one time I did was impressive. At least to me. The words came to me as I walked to my Organic Chemistry lecture my junior year in university. I remember rushing to my seat to scribble down the words as my professor began addressing the class. Please, do listen.

>>>

 

November 2016

Hark

And so we will stand

upon this land.

We will not bury our heads in the sand.

Our voices ringing loud,

refusing to bow,

because the time for change is now.

 

Get up.

Fill your cup.

Do not rupt.

Interrupt,

Intervene,

Make a new scene.

 

One of color and spark-

that needs no bark

and has no sharks.

Only us larks.

Leaving our marks.

 

Hark

our voices ringing loud

that intervene

to make new sound.

 

There is beauty to be found.

Towards it I am bound.

Please join me on my cloud.

 

I am nothing you have ever seen,

so on me do lean.

 

Friends, hark!

And together, we shall make light in this dark.

 

 

 

 

***

Note: Photo credit to Wenshu Chen/USFWS

An Exchange – Personal Poetry Collection

This is a bit of a cop out, but…. I’d rather do this than not post anything. Soo, remember I have a myriad of hobbies? Welp, here’s the poem that started it all. I wrote it for English class during 11th grade.  I got a good grade on it which encouraged me to keep writing more poems. Not sure if that was a good thing or not, but it was definitely a thing. X)

The assignment was to write a poem about love. It could be made up or real. Mine was inspired by a kind friend. (Link to the briefest of mentions about AJ here.)

***

An Exchange

January, 2013

He cares for you and protects you from harm.

You care for him but can not protect him.

He stays by your side despite your alarm.

He risks himself to help you from the rim.

 

Useless, you stand by as he thinks of you.

Meanwhile you think of him, and decide: no.

The unfairness overwhelms you. You rue

the time you met him. You wish he would go.

 

You must not burden him. He matters more

than your silly problems. This you know well.

With this you withdraw. You become poor.

You yearn for his thoughts. You yearn for his smell.

 

Him without your problems and you without

his company, makes you think, makes you doubt.