Letter from Zagreb

Dear misfit,

May I please blow your trumpet?
You are needed now
In these days of consent minus one
You –
denied
limited
trumped –
are on a heroins journey
set by praying mantis

nerved by real news
you provide a hard copy
of neat love

In my musical
you’d be a proud member of the NUA
(now the no-unicorns-association)
no soul broker

Misfit
Please be careful
Cynical self help is a dud

Your disposition
may be
obscene
fixed
even heriditary

but if you were me
you’d love me
and
If I were me
I’d love you

till death do us part

Respectfully not yours,
Angela van Son

PS I forgot Inflection. Please remember i is a number, I’m not

One of the prompts for today at the generous octpowrimo page was to create a form of your own and share it with us. I realised I have a tradition that started some poetry months ago, to create a poem from titles (or snippets, or blog titles) from fellow participants and link up to them. A way to keep favourite parts, honour words I love, and express connection. I’m not even sure, but I think I invented this form myself, out of sheer enthusiasm.

Mine today is a variety on that: I’ve created a poem from the titles of my own poems this poetry month. I think I managed to incorporate all!

I prefer the form where I honour other peoples words, but I need more head space and time for those than I have right now. The good thing about todays version, is that invited me to look back at my own work this month and it works well as closure.

Today is our last day. #OctPoWriMo finishes. Again I’ve made great connections, read amazing poems, and got to enjoy my poems being read, liked and commented on. An inspiring and healing month. Thank you organisers, participants and readers!

If you like the idea of title poems, you can find more examples here.

Dear IC #2

Dear inner critic,

You can stay in the house when I’m gone, I won’t sell it.

I’ll probably call in, every once in a while, to see how you’re doing. No parties allowed – I’ve asked the neighbours to keep an eye on you. You’ll have to repay me for any damage done.

Don’t expect me to invest in maintenance. You have enough time on your hands now to make amends. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.

Regards,
your former protegee

Dear IC

How do you find the house, now that I’m gone?
I’m guessing messy, dusty and empty.
Have you taken to criticising yourself, now that I’m not around?
Blaming yourself for a job badly done, suggesting it was you who scared me away?

I wonder how you’re doing without me.
I’m guessing you are bored, feeling useless, don’t know what to do with yourself.
You thought I’d miss you, but you’re missing me instead.

I am having a fabulous time, without you bossing me around.
I notice what I want, what I care about, where I want to go.
I’ve been savouring moments, letting go of lots.
I feel I’m finally getting to know myself, enjoy who I am, live without fear.

Dear inner critic,
I’m not sure when I’ll return.
Could you water the plants for me and feed the cat?
You know better than me how that should be done.
No need to put the mail out of sight, I don’t mind burglars.
I’ve taken everything of value with me.

Sincerely,
I