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Archive for the tag “joy”

A Day in an Invisible Life: Hour 6

A Day in an Invisible Life (9)

I feel.

(and by the way, I hate it)

I don’t know why.  I don’t know when.  But there are days that, after a rush of accomplishment, there is a vacuum created inside of me.  It’s almost a physical property, like when a low pressure system moves into a geographic location, and soon after, the real weather moves in.  Dark clouds, heavy with rain.  Wind.  Thunder.  Lightning.  You can taste it. 

Sometimes, the hair on your arms even stands up.

I feel this.

(and by the way, I hate it)

I’m feeling it right now.

And just like the weather, I never know what emotion will blow in when the low pressure system comes.  Today, it’s sadness.  But let’s be clear, today it’s ONLY sadness.  Not depression like the depression that came last summer.  That was a fucking weather Armageddon.  That was purple-black funnel clouds, with cows spinning inside them.  This is just sadness.  Like on another day, it’s just anger, or another day, it’s fear, anticipation, or even joy.

Today, it’s sadness.  And I’m writing my way through it.  It’s how I learned to cope, last summer.  And I’m coping right now.  Hell, I’m even writing a blog post and not matchbook poetry, which was about all I could do in 2017.  Matchbook poetry.  Poetry so short, it could fit on the cover of a matchbook.  Yeah, it’s a thing.  Anyway, if you’ve read the first five posts in this series, and shame on you if you haven’t… I’m laughing as I write that… you know that I’m okay, and you are not to call the authorities when you read shit like “sadness”, “anger”, or “weather Armageddon” in a sentence.  Buddha Bukowski 5 BETTER ENDINGYou also know that, while I have spent the last decade writing poetry that would make Mary Poppins cry, I still believe in the better ending. 

Here’s a picture of a shirt design I created that says so. 

And that I believe all these feelings, these feelings that are as common to everyone as they are to me, are just a part of the earthscape that I’ve been put here to describe, in words that are insufficient.  Which is why I try, every day.  Because maybe, if I try, every day, better words will appear than “sadness” and “anger”.  And you will read them, and know that you are not alone.       

Because when we feel, we are never alone.

(and by the way, even if we hate it)

 

© Copyright 2018 William S. Friday   

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Bukowski

nablo bukowski

I don’t want to be Bukowski
I want to drink and not get drunk
and have faith in something other than my own bowel movements
I want to love and not grow cold
and not end life writing sci-fi noir from a chair next to my deathbed

I don’t want to be Bukowski
Whatever others think and like to compare
and know that my life was worth more than a place in the Dewey Decimal System
I want to live and not grow old
and not have generations remember only for how Mickey Rourke portrayed me

I don’t want to be Bukowski
Because bitter doesn’t suit me
and the laughter in my soul is best expressed in joy and love
I want my words to be retold
and felt on the lips of others the way they lived in my own heart when I wrote them

I don’t want to be Bukowski
So I won’t

© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday

Waver

c 2015 Bill Friday

c 2015 Bill Friday

 

I waver

between imagined

happy endings

And realized

disappointments

Fearing

my unreadiness

for joy

 

© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday

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