NPM 4 -yes i know april is over. i do not care.

Y'all! My poems got freaking published! Isn't that crazy? It's just in my school's little literary magazine, but they took all like eight of my poems that I turned in.

Also, I haven't been editing that one poem much, don't worry, I will do it and you'll get to see the effects. Plus we still have like twenty six more posts until I decide National Poetry Month is over, so hey. That's pretty exciting.

Alright, go check out this link, I'll give you a sneak preview!

also, i'm thinking of putting together a digital poetry magazine, let me know what you think. It would have open submissions for a dollar, anyone would be allowed to submit.

NPM - 3: A work through time

Alright chickens, I have returned as promised!

I want to show you the evolution of this poem. It was written last year, while I was pining away for this girl like a ridiculous romantic heroine staring out into the sun, and I wanted to conflate pining for her with the feeling of looking for a specific word. As I'm sure you can imagine, it sucked. But, for fun, I figured I'd post the entire 5 page monstrosity, feel free to scroll down if you want to see how it is now.

ORIGINAL

Untitled

Words can be so beautiful

Hold so much meaning.

I want to be beautiful

I want to be meaningful.

I hold them to my chest,

I cram them into my mouth

I rub them into my skin

I want to subsume them

I want them to become a part of me

I want to burn them into my skin 

To etch them there for eternity 

I want 

I want 

I WANT

And yet I cannot say. 

I find myself flailing about, 

The right ones just out of reach,

Tip of the tongue. 

Maybe,

If I carve them into my bones,

If I scratch them into my skin,

If I cram them down my throat,

I’ll find the right ones

To quell this burning in my chest,

To wield beauty and terror,

To be meaningful.

To be

I shall build armor of letters

I shall wield a sword of beauty

My tongue shall be quick 

Sharp

All shall look upon me and weep

In terror and awe

And I shall become some 

Immortal hand or I 

Shall be something 

I shall be

I’ll write 

Exactly what I’m meant to write

(This strange, heart-rending feeling,

This ecstasy mixed with terror,

Tears that don’t quite come,

Laughter that burbles and dies, 

Words clipped and sharp.

Inexplicable, inexpressible)

There is no way to tear out my beating heart,

To meld my mind into yours,

To pull you into me,

To scream what I want to say.

Perhaps if I was better,

If I was a Poet

And not just a girl 

Who lives in a closet

Sometimes I mouth words just to feel them

(I can’t explain it I can’t describe it

Do you know how many times I’ve set pen to paper?)

It’s like a taste, but there’s no flavor. 

A delight in the motion of tongue and tooth,

A strange burning in my chest

Only to be quenched by words

I am a thirsty thing 

I am a vampire who feeds on letters

Sibilant sounds and flicking tongues

I am unquenchable 

And I burn 

And I yearn

There is so much to say 

I don’t know what I’m supposed to say

I don’t know what I yearn to say

There is just the constant burning

The slow fire,

A demand from my essence

(But what does it want?

What words will quench my thirst? 

What is it I desire to say?
What have I been made to say?)

If I burn the words into my skin

If I stick them into my marrow

If I cram them down my greedy throat,

If I hold them to my chest while I sleep,

Will it stop? Will it end?

Do I want it to end?

My idle hand loops on my thighs

The bony protrusion at my ankle

My throat where the pulse jumps

My chapped and bitten lips

My pale ribs

My collarbone

Writing, always writing

But what have I to say?
What words are there to express this?
How can I show you? 

How do I explain? 

Why do I desire this so?

Why can’t I find the words to tell you?

**********

Okay, so I reread that poem and decided that it had far too many metaphors for it to be able to track, and I decided to edit it down. Here's the revision:

A Burning Desire

I am a thirsty thing 

who feeds on letters

Sibilant sounds and flicking tongues

I am a greedy thing

Who will never stop

Never have their fill.

I delight in the motion of tooth and tongue

The sharp snap of a k

The warm caress of an s,

Which soothes me only for a moment

Before I burn once more

Consumed by desire.

If I burn every word into my skin

If I stick them into my marrow

If I cram them down my greedy throat,

If I hold them to my chest while I sleep,

Will it stop? Will it end?

And could I bear to live without this burning?

******

I like that version a whole lot better, but it still needs to be cleaned up a little bit. I've already made a couple changes from this version, and I'll be sure to update if anything dramatic happens! This has been a fun exercise, and that's honestly how a lot of poetry writing goes for me. I like to do long free writes where I try to express myself freely, and then edit it down to the most powerful images. Honestly, I think I could take a couple other metaphors from the original and make it into a separate poem, I really like the part about armor and weaponry. We'll see! Thanks for following along, Y'all! I'm excited to write some more!

NPM 2 -Yeah okay so did I forget to post more NPM things? yup.

Hey y'all turns out I'm god awful at posting everyday, so I've decided this thirty days will be as spread out as I feel like it because time is an illusion anyway and honestly who really cares? Nobody is reading this and I live by no rules!

I've actually got an interesting poem today! Not to belittle my other works, of course, but I'm just really excited about this one. I enrolled recently in a poetry class at Gemini Ink on revising poetry, but the first day we did a little bit of generating new poems, and I figured I'd share that poem with you, and then (if I end up editing it) I can post the edited version later and we can see how it's changed! Fun, huh?

This piece has no title because I hate titles and they are very difficult to come up with, but if it had one it would probably be Homecoming.

Homecoming
Andja Bjeletich

How many times 

Have I seen this stone

Jutting through the river’s surface?

Is it smaller now?
Smoother,

After all these years 

Braving the current?

If only I had noticed it before,

It’s topography and algae,

That I might mark it’s changes

In an unending passage of time

How long does it take

For an unrelenting river

To whittle this rocky away 

To nothing but a thousand scattered grains

Like ash?

And how long must I stand here 

Before I, too, am whittled to nothing

But dust and ash?

Will I recognize this river?

When the rock has gone?

When it is no longer filled with 

Children splashing, terrorizing the innocent tadpoles?

Is it even the same river

Without my beautiful stone

That cleaves it in two?

And will it know me

When I am whittled by the 

Relentless tide of time 

Into nothing but dust 

And ash?

*****

Let me know what you think! I'll show you the other one I'm working with tomorrow if I can remember, okay?

To Form the Dust, To Become a Living Being, A Collection

Hello everyone!

It's been a while since I've posted on here, mostly because I've been developing a collection of ten poems. It was originally meant for a competition, but I did not win the competition, so instead it is here for you all.

This collection is about growing up. I'm not very old, I only just turned 21, and there's a lot of trying to understand who I am, and I have really been trying to create myself with a loving eye, if that makes sense. It's been a crazy year, and this collection really tracks that. It begins sad and angry, but ends much more content. Tell me what you think!

 So, here is the fruit of my labors, thrown into the void for all you fun babies. I hope you enjoy! I'd like to make more collections in the future! I'd like to challenge myself more technically in the future, I've been working on some sonnets and villanelles, so we will see how that goes, as well as a collection on learning to write poetry! Thank you for reading!

Genesis 2:7

is there a god 

who would condemn me

who would cast me out of the heavens

who would banish me for this

this inexplicable need

this burning want

to liquify my prescribed self

to press my body

into a fitting shape?

and what if I never stop

will I ever be satisfied

will I ever be enough

or am I held to this earth

tied to this body

and the cycles of the moon

left to yearn for

self unformed

personality unseen

identity unknown

until time slips by

like sand through my fingers

and I am left standing on this shore

the wind withering me away to nothing at all

to find myself grasping

grasping

grasping

grasping 

grasping

at someone I dare not create?

*****

Losing My Religion

I pray to a god

Deaf and blind

That you’ll love me

As I love you

But he

(like you)

Does not hear my prayers

And he

(like you)

Does not see my love

*****

Penelopiad

No longer

Shall I be some delicate thing

Tear-stained and beautiful

Gentle curves against the dying sun

No longer 

Shall I linger

Watching waves lap upon

This barren shore

No longer 

Shall I weave this shroud

Only to pull it apart

By the light of the moon

No longer 

Shall my limbs protect you

My blossoms adorn you

My fruits sustain you

No longer.

(but I’ve grown roots on this shore;

which is worse,

 uprooting myself or withering away?)

*****

Enough

I must learn 

To stop asking

Love Me

And waiting for 

Your answer

I will love myself

And it will be enough

will it be enough?

*****

Progress and Regress

How many stitches have I

Knit and Unknit?

How many words have I

Written and Unwritten?

How many lives have I

Built and Unbuilt?

(and still

i am here

i am whole

i am here)

*****

Confession

I

Was I not destined to fall?

Named for the very first beings

Celestial, ethereal, perfect

Who dared to rebell

Who questioned tradition

Who rejected the identity given to them

By a conceited and righteous god?

Who were cast out of high heaven

Because they loved themselves

More than some bearded man in the sky?

Why was I placed on this precipice?

Who formed me so that I would not fit?

I will arrive late, guns ablaze.

I will not watch you mourn

I will not join your sorrow

I will hold my head high and proud

I will not drown

I will fill these hallowed bones

With my righteous fury

I will arm myself with pride

I will wield anger

I will encase myself in wrath

And nothing will penetrate my defense

I cannot be cast out 

I will not be cast out

I will leave of my own free will

I will free myself from you

(you who loved me most)

II

forgive me

i’ve missed the funeral

and far too late i’ve realized

i was wrong.

i was proud.

forgive me

i am young

i am afraid

i am known by you

and you love me for who i am

who i have always been

who i always will be

forgive me

there is no god 

there is only you

and your endless love

and why did i worry this wasn’t 

enough?

forgive me

i had forgotten 

this metamorphosis

has not changed my core

i will always be myself

better and stronger now

but myself nonetheless

forgive me

*****

Inexplicable

what sweet-soft light is this

that cries where once a heart beat

this gentle ebb and flow

small and sad and full of love

a warm bath in the snow

a worn book in the rain

oh, spiked comfort that hurts

in its healing

this quiet whisper

a mother’s hush answering

infant tears

what word is there for this

too fleeting to be named

too delicate for examination

a snowflake on an eyelash

to be looked at

but not for long

oh, not for long

this sweet-soft balm

already gone

*****

A Kind Poem

This is my first

Kind poem,

Gentle and sweet

To soften my anxiety-edge

to weigh me down

to hold me close 

to love me

I’ll take these gaseous 

Atoms of myself

I’ll compress them

Solidify myself,

Still and contained 

In my own loving palm

Let my cup runneth over 

With love for myself

*****

Thank You

You did not create me

You did not dig 

Potter’s hands into 

My clay self,

Did not mold me for you

Did not ask anything of me

You loved me then 

As you love me now

As I’ve loved you

As I’ll always love you

You smiled as my clumsy hands

Fumbled with the clay,

Grinned and said

You’re perfect

You’re kind

You’re wonderful

My feeble attempts at self-creation

Always met with joy 

Always met with love

You trusted I would be the same

Except happier,

Better

(You knew me better than I know myself)

I love myself

as you loved me then

As you love me now

As I’ve loved you

As I’ll always love you

*****

A Benediction 

My sweet one

My darling boy

My lovely child

My dear girl

Worthy of love 

Worthy of life

You are so much

I do not tell you enough

How proud I am

How far you’ve come

Look at your shaking hands

Your tired lungs and

Palpitating heart

Feel your limbs

The weight of you

Be still and know

my dear my darling 

You are loved and love in return

You are loved and love in return