Time Difference

Promt No 29: Write an evening poem or write a day-time poem.

Time Difference


Time doesn't wait
Time doesn't stop

It's 5PM here
But 4AM there
It's evening
No It's morning

Time is irrelevant
Time is complacent

It's neither evening
Nor morning
It's Right Now
and Right Now

Time is precious
Time is running out

The facade is burning
The iron fist of the people
Is pounding against the
Lies we've been spoon fed

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Cool Story, Bro

Prompt No: 28 Write a "(blank) Story" poem.

Cool Story, Bro


Yeah, I totally agree that your
Only crime was being born
With more money than most
That you could afford a better
Position in life
And that right now the only
Thing you're interested in
Is making some money
  Don't matter where the money comes from
  But, you wouldn't be the same without it

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Dedication

Prompt No 27: Write a tribute poem.

Dedication


I dedicate this last note
To all the people who don't
Give a shit about their future
To the people who don't
Care for change because
Everything's all right in their world
Because to them the government is perfect
The corporations aren't corrupt
Because they feel that they're hopeless
And that's just fine with them

I dedicate the last of this bottle
To all the people who drink
Their happy pills so that they
Don't have to give a fuck about
The pains of the our society
They only care for furthering their
Own greedy belly
They don't care that children work
Their childhood away
So that American and privileged children
Across the world learns to read
With a pop-up book

Yeah, I want to dedicate this filthy
Era with toxic chemicals fucking
Our brains to those that think
There's nothing wrong in this world

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There Go

Promt No 26: Write a good old days poem.

There Go


the good old days
laughing at our ignorance
trampling through our resources
rolling around in their graves
because mother fuckers don't
rest in peace

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Buy!

Prompt No. 25: Write a consumption poem.

Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

More toys, more trash

More plastic, more distractions

Less time, there’s less time

To spend with your families

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

More debt, more bills

More sorrow, more deaths

Less things make you happy

Nothing compares to the void inside

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Camp for hours for the best deal

Camp for hours at the mercy

Of fellow campers pepper spraying

You for the best deals

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Buy! Buy! Buy!

This is it

This is the pinnacle

This is the best times of our lives

Just buy!, buy!, buy!

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Best Thanksgiving Ever

Promt 24: Write a gathering poem.

Best Thanksgiving Ever

Three hours in a van

Three hours of dale tu cuerpo alegria Macarena

Nadie me quiere todos me odian

De reversa mami

Fruta Fresca

And no voy a trabajar

Chihuahua snoring on my pink sweater

Older sister sleeping on the front seat

Youngest sister day dreaming

And me wishing I could listen to my favorite song

Pick up the median sister

Pack the cat in her carrier

Pull down the vodka and gin

Arrange all the suitcases in the van

Argue about the heavy suitcases

Get lost on our way to my aunt’s

Hello

How are you

Take a picture

Back on the road

Three hours of more

Eres golosa

Bomba, bomba, bomba

La chica sexy

Dale tu cuerpo alegría Macarena

Nadie me quiere todos me odian

H-E-B grocery time

Cat, dog, youngest sister wait in the van

Mickey’s, wine coolers, turkey, stuffing

Cokes, Diet Cokes, water bottles, chips

But no hummus, no damn hummus

In South Texas

Tacos piratas

Half vodka, half gin, ounce of fuzzy navel

Neighbors partying at 1 AM

Neighbors still partying at 5 AM

Wake the army!

Clean all the things!

More techno;

I think I, I think I, I think I like it like it, igh igh igh igh igh

Breakfast at 6:30 AM

And I pass out

What’s Thanksgiving

Without Thanksgiving Lunch

Full course meal

And a load of pecan pie

MarioKart battle

People falling asleep left and right

The dog better hide, that cat’s gonna kill it

Left overs R Us

Nothing like a Thanksgiving

With people getting along

Goya Olive Martini night

With chilaquiles

And beers

For those who are awake

Friday, Saturday, funs for alls

Now to cram everyone back in a van

Up to drop off the cat and my sister

Mom drives the rented van

But doesn’t know the buttons for the windows

So when we get to the check point

We’ve been in this line for six minutes

            Thanks Captain Obvious

How do you open this?

Ma, just press the button

  Are you a US Citizen?

Yes, yes.

                                    Dale tu cuerpo alegria Macarena

                                                Ma, turn it down

  Where are you going?

                                    Dale tu cuerpo alegria Macarena

To drop off my daughters

I'm still unsure of what happened

This past Thanksgiving

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One More Trip

Prompt 23: Write a travel poem.

One More Trip

I promise
Just want to experience the sunset
Over there
I heard it’s a darker purple
the stars twinkle slower
the clouds swept a princess away
the wind serenaded all night
and that I could forget
all about that thief
who stole my heart

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Strawberries

Prompt 22: Pick a fruit or pic a vegetable, make it the title of your poem, and write the poem.

Strawberries

some days you feel very sucky
crap happens
then you really dislike being you
you think stuff like..
man if only i could make it all go away...
then you realize
you really don't want to disappear
so you think of things
you can do to snap out of it
but nothing compares
nothing takes you out of the moment
so i've heard i'm not the only one
who thinks these things
but i feel very alone right now
it's just me and a field of impossibilities
i don't always feel this way
days like these remind me of strawberries
in a jar filled with vodka

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Whenever Thanksgiving comes around

Prompt 21: Write a ‘Whenever (blank)’ poem.

Whenever Thanksgiving comes around

I like to watch movies
Like the Grave of the Fireflies
Because nothing compares
And no amount of apple pie,
White wine, and stuffing
Distracts my mind

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MM 21 NOV 2011

Shiny!

Prompt 20: Write a ‘best ever’ poem.

Shiny!

It’s no secret
I don’t sleep
Nor do I do anything
For myself
I’m really good
At avoiding
Mostly because if I tackle
Problems while I’m upset
Shit goes down and people get hurt
Didn’t get much sleep the night before
Come morning I was back at the art building
Going up the steps with a friend
Before she went off
She handed me a card
With shiny costume necklaces
That you can buy for a dollar
It was the best birthday moment ever

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The Game

Prompt 19: Write a “suspicious minds” poem.

The Game

Forbidden love story
He catches her hazel eyes
Simmering through the
Long pristine black eyelashes
Dare he ask for her name
Dare he risk the gamble
Dare he enter the game of attraction

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Sick Realization

Prompt 18: Write an “It’s too late” poem.

Sick Realization

I stood there,
In 90-degree weather
With my light fleece sweater
Wondering, why no one else was cold

Then I realized that I might be ill
A sober realization after denying
Like a madman that I could ever be sick

I grinned
As my body began to sweat

I was too cold to notice, then

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Certificate of…

Prompt 12: Write an excess poem

Certificate of…

There isn’t much left once it strikes
The electricity races through seven
Entirely different emotions,
Rattling through the brain of a very
Unsettling & vulnerable personality

The feelings crept up, divided, and
Conquered the hyper-caffeinated mind
While slowly fucking with the anxiety
Within making her so upset, she hyperventilated

“I’m pissed off!”
They asked, why
“Because, I’m pissed off”

Consequently, awarding her
The certificate of fucking pissed off

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Once Upon a Bleary Moon

Prompt No 16: Write a “Once Upon a (Blank)” poem

Once Upon a Bleary Moon

Mountains spoke a grand tale
Of dragons and demons
The wind caught their yowls
The flora and fauna stared with delight
While the bleary moon lit the stage

There was never a moment so dull
In the story of mysteries and magic
All that listened moved to the rhythm
In a hypnotic melody with the mountains

The demons, the demons
They’ve come out of the nether world
Bloodthirsty demons rampaged over
The dragon’s fertile ancestral lands

The manicured greens and perfected fruit
Lay ruined under the putrid orange demon’s feet
The young dragons scattered into the caves
Of the mountain as the army readied
And surrounded the rouge demons

The dragons growled with practiced intimidation
Ripped through translucent flesh with quick gashes
Chewed on the fragile bones of the demons
Reclaimed their pride through efficient destruction
Chasing away the demons

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Tough Girl

Prompt No 17: Write a poem that reveals something.

Tough Girl

My tough girl act gots me
Fighting corrupt governments
At a very estranged local level
While I fight for my right to live
Every damn minute of the day

My though girl act gots me
Hating on romance comedies
At every chance I get
While I secretly wish for a prince
Who will make my heart flutter

My tough girl act gots me
Throwing away all my make up
And refusing to wear more than eyeliner
While I admire my eyes in the mirror
And wish that my skin could be beautiful

My tough girl act
Tough girl act
Leads me to a path of construction
I’m going to tear down this system
One way or another

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I think I love you?

Prompt No 15: Write a love poem or write an anti-love poem

I think I love you?

But, I wouldn’t call it love
Been down that road before
And it’s way out of my way

Why won’t you come with me
Take my hand and together
We can take a long walk

Over the ephemeral stages of
The unseen paradigms combining
Into the diaspora of my life

All my attention can be uncanny
So I’ll make it easier on myself
And I’ll go away for a while

Just so that we can remain friends
Because I’ve been down that road
And that one is far the best

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Death to All

Prompt 14: Write a deadly and dangerous poem

Death to All

I’m twelve times the average hurt
I’m twelve times the average pain
I’m twelve times the average hate
I’m twelve times the average rage

I’m the wife of the almighty Death
I’m the wife of the almighty Misery
I’m the wife of the almighty Pain
I’m the wife of the almighty Rage

Polygamy knows no bounds when
It comes to tearing up the human soul
Polygamy knows no bounds when
It comes to playing sick jokes

Ain’t no pain it’s just the game
Ain’t no pain it’s just life
Ain’t no misery it’s just right
Ain’t no misery it’s just life

Bone cracking, veins snapping
Blood pooling out of the eyes
Only innocent people die
With pure agony as they scream in pain

One ache here, three aches there
The motions are blurry
The skies are dreary
The miserable man stumbles slowly

Ain’t no gain without rage
Ain’t no destruction without rage
Ainot no reasons to keep you alive
The end name is always Death

Cold frightening death is the same
For everyone and everything
One second you’re in fucking agony
And the next you’re fucking mine

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Lawsuits

Prompt No 11: Write a numbers poem

Lawsuits

0
-7K
-3K
-300
-20
-100
-700
-20
+3
+200
-121

I’m more afraid of witch craft
Than collection agencies

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Difference in Perspective

Prompt No 10: Write a different perspective poem.

Difference in Perspective

No money
Too much debt
By some executive’s reasoning
I have no right to breathe

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Are we sissies?

Prompt No 9: Write a (blank) or (blank) poem

Are we sissies or are we sissies?

Temps going down at the park
Sweaters shield us from the wind
The south side has less wind
But nobody took the rain into consideration
We sat in the gazebo
While the “Make the City Beautiful” committee
Sat in their cozy office downstairs
The wind must’ve missed the memo
We sat through the logistics of an 11.11.11 event
Could we be sissies?
Our counterparts are constantly suffering
From hypothermia while camping in the winter
And we’re aching for a closed location
Are we sissies?
            Or are we sissies?

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Blood Letter

Prompt No 8: Write a paranormal poem or a normal poem.

Blood Letter

Some say an image is worth a thousand
Words—poetry can only express
Things so far

Let me convince you otherwise
Take for instance this silver needle
Piercing through your joints

It’s no ordinary needle
Seven inches in length
one-point-five inches in girth

Take this needle through your ankle
Feel the pain paralyze you
Break you into a daze

Think of all the stars that surround us
The pressure as they
Simultaneously explode

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Giving Kindness

Prompt No 13: write a kind poem.

Giving Kindness

Don’t know what you’re talking about
Don’t know what you’re story is
Don’t know what your motive is
Don’t know what your beliefs are

Don’t know if you’re trust worthy
Don’t know if you’re an asshole at heart
Don’t know if you’re prone to violent tempers
Don’t know if you’re going to kill me

Don’t know how you’re going to react
Don’t know how you’re going to make it
Don’t know how you’re going to go away
Don’t know how you’re going to pay me back

Because I won’t care to know everything
Because even if you took my kindness
And shoved it down my lifeless throat
I’d still help you out if you’re in a bind

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To Occupy ...Information

“Stop bothering the government. Get a job and quit your complaining. I am 17 years old and I have 2 jobs. It’s not that hard.”

It’s absolutely necessary to not complain about injustices in our government. Yes, let’s not complain about the rising costs of health care because pharmaceutical companies need to roll in extra profit from you terminally ill condition. Yes, let’s all bow down and work our every last ounce of dignity because the CEOs just get a kick out of seeing us die slowly. Let’s stop eating, no one needs food. Let’s stop having original thoughts, no cult ever existed with free individual members. Let’s have all the people in the world kill each other for a few lawlz.

But let’s go back and talk about jobs. You have a job? I don’t have a full time job. I freelance for nickels and dimes because my skillset puts me at the bottom of my industry. Wait… what’s that? Of course! I can go back to school and learn more skill sets so that I can move up and get a better job. Yes! What a brilliant idea… I’ve always wanted to owe a couple hundred dollars in student loans that I might never be able to pay. Right, because I can totally get a job, because every application I submit gets reviewed and deleted.

Forget jobs. Some get hired and some don’t.

We are a nation of debt. Sadly, we’re a capitalist nation of debt. We spend more to make more, but we’re spending money that isn’t there. There’s no way around this and it’s all bull shit. [And this turns into a rant.]

I'm just fucking tired of this fucking bull shit. That's my driving force, I've noticed. Some people are just "wah wah fml waaaa" and that's fucking annoying. You have a problem, fix your problem. If you can't fix your problem, then there's obviously a fucking bigger problem obstructing you. My overarching problem is money, so I work harder, longer. I work for cents sometimes, but always for one reason. To achieve something. But I ask myself:

What the fuck am I achieving when I can barely keep myself pain-free, eyesight steady, and gamble with passing out?

Fucking nothing. But, I keep trying. Fucking do something. Inform yourself. Our government is giving money to corporations for promises of financial backing. Google that shit for starters. Have an informative link.

MM 14 Nov 11

I know, it's been a while. I guess I've been so busy with design that I never realized that I hadn't created a new playlist since August! Anyway, it's Monday Morning and here's some music.

Hey, I want to listen to this on Spotify. Sure.

The Second Coming

Prompt No 7: For today’s prompt, write a “what won’t wait” poem. Only you know what won’t wait. Maybe it’s falling in love or work–or death.


The Second Coming

Is coming
Is coming soon
At some point

Battered wives lying
About their injuries
Won’t wait

Depressed teens’ flesh
Underneath that sharp blade
Won’t wait

Children with no homes, no food,
No rights to childhood
Won’t wait

Ambitious and thriving tapeworm
Larvae dying for their next host
Won’t wait

Today is the day
Act now
Now

It’s common knowledge
Tomorrow’s pains affect us
Now

The pains of today
Can start healing
Now

Life comes and goes
Entropy won’t wait
And neither will I

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Addxt

Prompt No 6: Write an addict poem.


Addxt

Pt 1

After three shots of espresso
I'm ready to stay up till 4
I'm ready to sing and dance
After four shots of espresso
I'm ready to stay up all night
I'm ready to laugh with dawn
I'm ready for an 8AM final
After eight shots of espresso
I'm ready to puke
I'm ready to stay up all night
I'm ready to stay up all the next day
After ten shots of espresso
I'm ready to rule the world

Pt 2

Hook me up with some Devil Spring
I’m ready to visit the next level
A little bit of bright red skittles vodka
Matches my blood on the sidewalk
Pina colada; you betcha
I’m right there with ya
Freezing cold watermelon vodka
Highlighter party, oh what fun
Thanks for the cup
And the raspberry vodka inside
Hey wait—wine in my vodka now
With this red Dixie cup
I’m going to rule the world

Pt 3

Five minute root chakra
10 minute five finger exercise
Divination sticks for six points
Six card fortune; past, present, future
But the sounds echoing my thoughts
They don’t quiet down one bit
Psyh-Out, trip in, tune out
One demon; two spells
Bright flashing lights
Let the body lose its meaning
Cradle the energy into prayer
Fuck this existence
I’m God; world & I are one

Pt 4

Nice to meetcha; want a drink?
Have a white Russian, or sprite & jack on me
Yeah, I used to drink a lot
Four locos pong: bad idea
This green stuff is great straight
Blue pina colada; in a fucking
Garbage looking can cup!
I’ll mix you something nice
Don’t like it?
Here try mine
A little bit of this
Three drops of that
This one will rock your world

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The Lucky Ones

Prompt No 5: Write a broken poem.

The Lucky Ones

The tree isn’t there anymore
The trailer isn’t there anymore
The one neighbor built a high fence
The other still leaves the garage open

The ends of the street looks barren
As do half of the homes
But our place is the only empty lot
FOR SALE but who’s gonna buy

I always kept my curtains closed
But I could hear the neighbors
Through the sounds of the old
Cassette radio I kept by the door

My room faced the street
The old tree’s shadow peered through
The folds of the old dusty curtains
Small drafts of wind visited occasionally

In the summers the wind barely
Made it past my barrier of curtains
In the winter it pummeled in
And stayed to aid my bronchitis

Junk piled the corners
Old clothes lay on the floor
The one built in dresser had a hole
That the cats would use as a door

I had an old-fashioned brown
Extension cord with three outlets
The connection ran from the kitchen
To my bedroom

At first
I fought for my right to
One lamp
One alarm clock

The fan came after a while
But, I never got a new bed
The old mattress with broken springs
Added a fair share of cuts and bruises

Some long
Some short
Some with blood
Some scarred

At first
I screwed my door back
On the hinges
But the wood was old

It was nothing more than
A defiant act of privacy
The door lay over the doorframe
At a 30 degree angle

It was always easier
To sleep after 2
The room wasn’t so hot
And the neighbors were quiet

It was always easier
To remind myself
That at least my little sisters
Had it better

A fan
A bed
Electricity
They had me

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Mail Solicites Donations

But, Richie… RIT doesn’t offer my major anymore. What kind of value does my degree hold?

Scared of Me

Prompt No 4: Write a poem about finding something unexpected.

I had suspicion, that the Occupy McAllen Bank Transfer Day Action would inspire a poem for today’s topic.

Scared of Me

Young security officer
Maybe a couple of pounds lighter than me
Definitely zero shades lighter than me
Stands in front of the building

“If you’re protesting
You must remain on the sidewalk”
He spoke as we announced our presence
By walking by the glass wall

Middle aged bank manager
Maybe on the brink of losing her job
Definitely upset with us
Bars entry to an existing customer

“What can I help you with? this
[area outside the building] is my office”
She refused propaganda
Kept steering the conversation

Banking institution,
You are scared of me
I only spent three hours
Walking in front of you with my fliers

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Petition for Action: Send a letter to GSA

Funny thing about relatives, they won’t talk to you but they send you emails opposing your beliefs. I received an email titled “Girl Scouts now allow 'transgendered boys' to join Brownie troops” which invites people to “Send an email to the new Girl Scouts of America chief executive, Anna Maria Chávez, expressing your disappointment in their recent decision to allow boys as troop members.”

Alright freedom of speech, etc. People have the right to believe that GSA

• Support Planned Parenthood (and abortions I guess)
• Recognizes many ‘gods’
• Advances lesbianism (wtf) and radical feminism (ah yes?)

I asked myself, and those who may not be disappointed with GSA, what should I do? Simple, this is an opportunity.

1) It's totally optional but you can follow this link.

2) Copy/Paste this into the Subject (or create your own subject line):

Attention Chief Executive Chávez and GSA

3) Copy/Paste this into the letter part:

Dear Chief Executive Chávez: 

I am extremely pleased to learn that the GSA is now allowing little boys to join Brownie troops.  By doing so, the GSA puts its unit leaders in a responsible and noble situation of having to explain a transgered and transsexual issues to young girls.

Over the past few years, the GSA has retained its identity and credibility as a national youth organization that tailors to the education of our children. 

As the new chief executive, I hope you will maintain the existing decisions on this topic at GSA. I completely support GSA. I will educate other families on how GSA policies can promote the well-being and moral development of our daughters.

4) Sign it & leave some digital info.

Isn't this fun?

Brief History; On Impression

There comes a time in the life of a network of blogs, magazines, and publishers when membership reaches a significant number. I’m really excited about the number of magazines coming together and will be posting updates on them throughout the month (and forever). First, though, a little more detail about the history of On Impression.

As a student, I enrolled in printing technology and management curriculum. I learned the mechanics of every major type of printing and saw several of these presses in action. During my first course of Offset-Lithography, I worked with sheetfed presses (type of offset lithography printing machine) that printed sheets of paper that are used to make books, magazines, posters, anything that can be printed on paper basically. Printing was everything to me in those days; it was the simplest and most beautiful process out there. It’s two things: ink and paper. In most processes, the point on which the ink touches the paper is a called “impression.” Literally, the ink makes an impression on the paper and you have a print!

Technicalities vary, but I remember hearing the term “on impression” a lot in class. We used the term to designate the pressing of this magic green button that made the ink touch the paper. In that regard, the term was very important for me. It meant that I got to press the button (as well as other buttons that moved cylinders in the machine) and in a sense, it meant action. Even though this action is native to printing, I believe it carries through other aspects of publishing.

In writing, it is the action that makes a person type their work. Or write out their work on a notebook, a napkin, a receipt. The result of this action is like the ink impression in printing and by that logic, “On Impression” is the action of creating a piece of work. So one day, I decided that I didn’t want to be a regular publisher. I wanted to run my own publishing business and created On Impression Publishing.

The intention was to create pocket-sized (slightly larger than a credit card) books with On Impression Publishing. I loved the idea, and one day I will publish pocket-sized books, but not right now. My interest in print subsided and I started blogging, marketing, and creating campaigns for literary magazines. I began dreaming of an online magazine that was more than a link to download a PDF.

I took every chance I could to talk about this magazine. After a series of events, I adopted On Impression as the publishing press that would publish Enhance and the real beginning of my publishing adventure began.

As of today, the On Impression Network has nine members. Check them out!

Sort of Feeling Savvy

Prompt No 3: Take the phrase “Sort of (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem.

(attempt no 1)

Sort of Feeling Savvy

Do a barrel roll,
Google

Stock fluctuation of BoA,
Google

Text Weather 78503,
Google

Religion of Numa,
Google

New Mail!
Google

Lyric to that song or other?
Google

Spaceship
OMG

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Brain's in a Fog

Just more rambling. Some people may like others will not.

This isn’t something I’ll regularly admit to, but my brain’s in a fog anyways. I won’t remember what I wrote in this when I wake tomorrow. I’ve been depressed after having a very short happy childhood. I don’t remember what caused my happiness to subside into unhappiness, it had to have happened in elementary. I remember going to school and noticing that I was bigger, taller, and very obedient. Teacher would say to be quiet and sit still, and I sat still. There was no reason to be obedient, I didn’t expect for a reward, nor did I have any qualms with accepting authority. My peers thought otherwise, I was taunted for being a “good kid” and always doing what the teacher said.

Maybe, that’s when it happened. Something so innocent in me laughed and said “fuck that” and ran. Maybe not innocence, but my happiness took a left turn into the dark. I don’t really know what happiness is. I’ve felt ‘less-sad’ moods often, but nothing as extreme as joy, happiness, satisfaction, bliss. The feeling I get is more like “numb,” “not sad,” and powered up; like an energizer bunny.

I’m going to claim that I know when there’s something wrong with me. Basically, because my mood changes drastically. For a long time as a child, I believed that sorrow wasn’t intrinsic. It was always a cause of something. I can go back to a sketchy and hazy narrative of my life, and I can’t find a single instance where I could’ve been abused. I could claim that I was born without proper chemicals to be happy. Or, I was born with really sensitive receptors that could kill my mood instantly by any external force.

Now, there are a lot of medications out there and at one point in my life I decided to try it. The argument boiled down to, “do you really want to wake up every day for the rest of your life and feel miserable.” It’s like, there was this chance of not being intrinsically unhappy. Happiness was an option! So, I took the initiative, began treatment, and still felt the same.

I remember a doctor’s visit where I explained why I didn’t want to raise my dose. I was taking citalopram. It’s supposed to “increase the extracellular level of neurotransmitter serotonin by inhibiting its reuptake into presynaptic cell, increasing the level of serotonin in the synaptic cleft available to bind to the postsynaptic receptor.” SSRIs are used to treat long term depression. Since, I can pin point my depression to elementary/middle school, I’m guessing I’ve been depressed for a while. Which explains the citalopram.

But, I always had a hunch about this medicine. I am very wary of the pills doctors prescribe me. I’m definitely the patient that over analyzes how well treatment is or isn’t working. At the same time, I was taking stomach pills that eased my stomach problems, and a couple of pills for hypertension. As well as a couple of other pills that showed signs of working. After a year of citalopram I canceled my last appointment with the psychiatrist and never looked back.

Fast forward around three years. I take no medications, I see no doctors, and I evaluate myself for any possible changes in moods and physical symptoms. No insurance leaves no room for colds or anything similar. But, I know of existing conditions that need help. Like my depression, this is the point of this.

I searched for citalopram and stumbled over a page with this warning:

Notice
[Posted 08/24/2011] ISSUE: FDA notified healthcare professionals and patients that the antidepressant citalopram hydrobromide (Celexa) should no longer be used at doses greater than 40 mg per day because it can cause abnormal changes in the electrical activity of the heart. Changes in the electrical activity of the heart (prolongation of the QT interval of the electrocardiogram [ECG]) can lead to an abnormal heart rhythm (including Torsade de Pointes), which can be fatal. Patients at particular risk for developing prolongation of the QT interval include those with underlying heart conditions and those who are predisposed to low levels of potassium and magnesium in the blood.
Studies did not show a benefit in the treatment of depression at doses higher than 40 mg per day. Previously, the citalopram drug label stated that certain patients may require a dose of 60 mg per day. The citalopram drug label has been revised to include the new drug dosage and usage recommendations, as well as information about the potential for QT interval prolongation and Torsade de Pointes. See the FDA Drug Safety Communication Data Summary at: http://www.fda.gov/Drugs/DrugSafety/ucm269086.htm for additional information.
BACKGROUND: Citalopram hydrobromide (Celexa) is in a class of antidepressants called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs).
RECOMMENDATION: Citalopram causes dose-dependent QT interval prolongation. Citalopram should no longer be prescribed at doses greater than 40 mg per day. Citalopram should not be used in patients with congenital long QT syndrome. Patients with congestive heart failure, bradyarrhythmias, or predisposition to hypokalemia or hypomagnesemia because of concomitant illness or drugs, are at higher risk of developing Torsade de Pointes. See the FDA Drug Safety Communication for additional recommendations for healthcare professionals and patients. For more information visit the FDA website at: http://www.fda.gov/Safety/MedWatch/SafetyInformation and http://www.fda.gov/Drugs/DrugSafety.

I’m so fucking glad I stopped the psychiatrist from raising the dosage. However, I’m not so glad that I stopped treatment. I acknowledge that I can be a pain in the butt every time my mood swings from “normal” depressed to “manic” or “hypomanic” and I want to do everything in my power to “stop waking up feeling miserable.” I’m tired of gambling my time and life with an untreated illness.

Legally Speaking

I am a citizen of the United States of America. Our constitution calls for the separation of church and state. The bills of rights ratified on December 15, 1791 grant me ten rights that limit the power of the US Federal Government. I will probably go into detail on how I love all my rights and how I exercise some more than others at some point. For now, I want to address my right of religion.

Yes, I know the constitution is in place to ensure that the government will respect the rights of the citizens. But, isn’t our government made by our citizens. Therefore, by that decree, shouldn’t the citizens respect the right of others to choose whichever faith they choose to believe in? Yes. If you don’t believe so, then I have no business with you.

I’ve always believed in our constitution, nation, and in the power of the people. I agreed with Locke, Voltaire, Jefferson, Washington, and all the amazing people who drafted our nation. I demand a separation of church and state. I want to strip away any allusion to God and any religion to off the front end of our system.

I want my freedom of religion.
I want “In God We Trust” to be removed from our currency.
I want “One Nation Under God” to be removed from our pledge of allegiance.
I want politics to be secular.

I want people to respect my right to believe in something other than their belief and stop wasting my time with their propaganda.

The Agony

Prompt No 2

For today’s prompt, use an epigraph to kickstart your poem.

The Agony



“And all the complexities of fury leave,
Dying into a dance,
An agony of trance,
An agony of flame that cannot singe a sleeve”

-William Butler Yeats

the chords holding you back
dig into your smooth, unadulterated skin
until you see yourself screaming
through your reflection
on the stained glass mirror

your sins freshly painted
over the imperfections
of uneven shards that collect
blood from everyone
regardless of faith

they scream, too
sounds softer than breathing,
louder than then thunder
in their ears, praying for perfection
that will never be

praying to believe
in what they can’t
demanding their freedom
to believe in what
they can

More Poetry a Day poems

November Poem A Day Challenge

Most of my writer friends aim for 50,000 words and NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month, to be precise. I think it's a really great goal. I know that I can, if I had a really good outline and a great story idea. But, I'm not a novelist. Heck, I can't even guarantee one poem a day for a month, but I try.

Always gonna try.

Today's prompt (Nov 1):

Write a procrastination poem.
Write a proactive poem:

 I wrote a procrastination poem.

Time Gone

I'll get it done
Yeah, definitely
at some point
in a couple of hours
once the sun goes down
after the noises stop
while this file renders
when the clouds diffuse in my brain
after this song
after I find a good song
this looks like an interesting article
#1k1hr? not enough notice
this is an awesome photo
I bet this would...
what was I doing?

More Poetry A Day poems