The last day of the year, and of course I wake up with a booming headache. :/ Since I can't think straight I've made no resolutions (yet), but I do feel the New Year will truly be a new start; tomorrow a new day to which I wake with unusual vigor and wellbeing! Always a brighter day after a darker one. Here's hoping that this upcoming span of time will be just as amazing as this one was... and then some!
Happy New Year!
The last poem of the year... it ought to be something special!
But when midnight came we doused the light.
The fireworks hit the night, fell back,
Against these darkened times they attacked.
I planned, today, to rhyme on a track,
I made an animation, I uploaded a song,
I threw together a game, all this amidst the bed breaks,
On the final day of the year - I woke up with a headache.
I wrote a blog for this newest start,
I uploaded ten works of art, I wrote,
Responded and read the news,
And almost too left reviews.
But I did not write a poem!
Not until the day was through, until all lights were out at two,
Until the year doth start anew. Two Thousand Fifteeen!!
A time I've only seen - in my dreams.
---
So, technically I missed the deadline, stayed awake past bed time, but that's OK, it's been a blast these past... 364 days, each a well-timed dose of prose you know. ;) Some days were easier than others, some poems were more fun to write, but I always wrote something and feel like I managed my goal, the thing this project is about, more than the poetry itself: to stay creative. That it generated some prose I'm impressively proud about is a bonus!
Check back on this category in a week or two on for a planned summary of the year, a list of favorite poems etc etc. For now, next year is starting, and with it Project 2015 - it's a rhyme book - a little archive of bits and pieces of unfinished lyricism and rhyme. Thank you 2014, and onto the New Year's Challenge!!
My thoughts are in my mind now,
Thoughts they all attack me,
Who are you trying to rhyme down?
Thoughts, stay in the backseat!
The winter's dry and cold now,
It lingers on a while,
I'm in a peaceful mood I put
My finger on a smile.
I make a song, take a beat,
Make it awesome, make it leet,
All these thoughts that they can't see,
Make me swivel, make me steam.
Someday I should make a stream,
Give the world an ear to ear,
All the views they fear to hear,
But it's New Year so clear the air!
And go out. Out of you're regret, like No Doubt.
---
Man... I wrote an awesome poem here, ran into some strange error upon posting. And it's gone! Not in drafts. Not in trash. Not in my memory either so I guess I'll write up a new one...
Christmas! The most magical of weeks of the year. The last week of the year. That week when you stress like a madman assembling potential gifts for the people you love and care for, then wake up with a headache on Christmas Eve (the day we officially celebrate here in Sweden) and spend all the time you would rather be spending with those same people packing those presents, getting down to the living room just to realize the old folks are helplessly glued to the TV with no will for socializing (and to think they were the ones that saw to it I didn't go down that same path!), going back up even though you have no more presents to pack, sending out some last-minute NG greetings, getting called down to dinner and... there the fun began!
The 22nd and 23rd were hectic days. First day of the week was my final work day: present delivery and then a looong walk home, past a supermarket for last minute shopping, through barren landscapes with recent snowfall trampled down as a soggy paste over the pavement, eventually a watery paste, eventually water, eventually it started to rain. I spent the 23rd at home, feeling incredibly busy but probably not doing much at all.
The 24th was 90% preparation, and 10% euphoria, packing up random re-usable packages in various sizes and piling their contents: a mixture of edibles (like Mango chips, dragon fruit and dark chili chocolate), socks, scratch cards and rare not with bigger promise on the rickety TV table - a keepsake from Costa Rica - one giant piece of polished wood (now cracked by the change of climate) sturdied by four wobbly legs. The wrapping paper piled high underneath it. The presents by the pine slowly faded away, revealing a worn wooden floor and a round rug with red and white fringe. We took turns picking up random presents and handing them out, and when it was all done I scourged the floor for more, but it was gone. Nothing under the rug either. Maybe some small forgotten gift will turn up in a closet in time for summer.
We opened presents till after midnight, till the snow started falling outside - all the while munching away on home-made snacks, and the day after I woke up with a... big smile! Mid day. Twelve. After the most refreshing sleep of the year! Since then I've been polishing up old posts, going through old art, finishing old audio, taking routine walks in the all but routine much colder, brighter and wonderful winter world outside - the snow squeaking under our feet as we move along. A Very Merry Christmas it was after all, despite insanely craving preparations and pre-present consumption craze.
Soon the New Year's upon us. It's a time for finishing up the old, starting new and meeting the fireworks with resolve and resolution! Aftermath post for resolutions of past years coming up soon, and maybe I can get some more old drafts polished and posted before I'm supposed to start on a blank slate, as I should every morning: let go of all expectations, and live life one moment at a time.
On the blog I've written 3 movie reviews, and some and then and this and that and stuff and here and also Merry Christmas! Here's last week.
Ride!
Rise!
Out!
To!
Fight!
I!
Like!
Simple!
Rhymes!
Don't!
Take!
Too!
Much!
Time!
Yeah.
---
Yeah I'm a bit short on time today. Just a minute to post... something...
Life, is all there is
Is there a must, it don't exist
I catch the bus, the ones I missed
They passed me by, I'm filled with lust
I laugh and smile, relax a while
And take a bath, and try to patch,
My life at last.