fuzzy food in fridge
can it be washed away?
desperate house plants
bought with good intentions
gave up ghosts through kitchen window
breakfasts of cold toast and peanut butter
outside, a sanctuary of thistles
inside, the dark imbues the body bones
absorbed in daily doses
just enough to quell
thoughts that foment rebellion
these I gave to you, I think.
my remembered lover
my old optimist
my partner of journey
my willing prisoner
spurn me now
for I have killed you
the worst of all crimes
a spirit stilled
Hello, I am Lee Dunn. Working stiff (retired). Avid reader, dreamer, and searcher. I write some eclectic poetry, prose, personal stories, and fiction. Have had work published in the Shelburne Free Press And Spillwords Press. I blog on WordPress at https://secret-lifeof.com/
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org
Lately I’ve been feeling really guilty because I wasn’t putting so much effort in my blog as I used to and also The Poetry Bar has been suffering due to my lack of work. Since I feel a really strong attachment to this blog and I am so grateful to all of the people following me I just felt like I should explain myself.
To be honest, in the last few weeks I haven’t been putting much effort into anything. I just let time pass by, I stopped taking care of myself and it has made me feel completely drained of energy and motivation to work. Actually, I feel like a really big hypocrite because of it since I’m always preaching about self-care and putting yourself first when you need to and I haven’t been doing that lately. The consequences of my behavior are visible on my lack of work on the blog and The Poetry Bar and on my health since I’ve gained weight, been ill lately, started smoking again etc. I’ve been having some issues in my personal life that had a really big impact on me and the only person I am blaming for it is myself and not the people involved because I know that I know better than to have such a negative and self-destructive response to problems.
That’s pretty much it. I am just drained and exhausted. I promised myself to take better care of my health, both mental and physical – actually I am committing to it before things get worse. I hope you all understand and I hope that you don’t hold a grudge because I didn’t post as much, answer to all of your comments and emails. Thank you so much for being here and for reading this and if you are going through something similar I hope that maybe this text has helped you realize that you too need to focus on yourself more. Please do send more of your works to The Poetry Bar so that we can get it up and running again and as soon as I get some more inspiration I will post more work.
Have a lovely rest of the week!
Sending love and positive vibes,
How many lives have you
How many lies have you told
yourself to postpone the final
stepping into everything you want to be?
Don’t live in pain and in the fear
of the unknown. Step into everything you
are meant to be.
When you make a mistake you will hurt
but this life you’re living is hurting you too.
You begged for the rain to last a month.
Just so we could hide under our umbrella
of mutual lies, fairytale moments and beliefs
of us ever standing a chance.
Once the umbrella is closed we will be
standing in the sun but we won’t
be facing each other. The raindrops hitting
my window will always bring a memory
of your touch.
A long time ago I lived on the run
from life, truth, reality and everything that hurt.
In a certain point my head banged against
a wall and the path I ran on suddenly disappeared.
The walls are closing up on me, everything I have they’re
crushing. It’s kind of hard to breathe in this fog of memories.
I was never the one to stand still and let the world
cave in around me so I did the worst possible thing.
I’ve killed. I’ve killed my touch with reality, my bond
with family, I’ve killed every single piece of me that was
too big of a danger for my sanity.
I stitched up every wound, I’ve turned every source
of pain into lyrics and quotes but the same words with
which I let go are coming from other people’s mouths and
minds and I can’t stop them from flowing my way.
The words always stay and they get engraved into my brain.
I’ll put up my mask and pretend they’re not there until I break
down again. Then I’ll just keep on being a murderer and I
won’t stop until I do the biggest crime. I’m not stopping until
I kill every last piece of humanity in me.
Numbness is my goal and it justifies all means. I’ll be a killer
until I manage to stand against anything