
Normally I share these the same day they are posted, but yesterday there was a technology snafu… So here’s my post for coffee house writers from this week… I hope that you enjoy!

Normally I share these the same day they are posted, but yesterday there was a technology snafu… So here’s my post for coffee house writers from this week… I hope that you enjoy!

Today my newest poem on Coffee house Writers posts. The posting rules for Coffee House are slightly different for the poetry department. In the poetry department there are two types, the type I am is devoted to poetry and rarely post else. Coffee House is devoted to growth of their writers. So, the poetry department that I am a part of does a weekly assignment. A challenge if you will. The weeks that you post you are required to at least attempt the assignment, and to comment on other attempts. This way we grow, we learn.
I have written free verse my whole life. I am I think comfortable, overly so sometimes, with free verse. I love the lack of restrictions on my writing.
The poet ee cummings used a lack of following the syntax rules to separate his poetry from the mainstream. I am in no way comparing my poems to his, but it was an argument that I used in high school when the teachers wanted me to follow all of the poetic rules. I have learned the rules since, because it is easier to break rules if you know them. In high school though, I was not worried about the rules of what I was writing. It was a coping mechanism. I was writing pure emotional purge, without care of what I was truly putting into the world. It wasn’t until later, when I was safer, that I started to consider how to improve my words.
So I am thankful now to attempt the challenges to improve. A good many of them are new forms. As poets, we often stagnate in single forms because they become easy to write. (The reason why I have been taking on Haikus lately.) I hate stagnation. Poetry should be fresh. A new view.
This week the assignment was a Ghazal poem.From the internet search “Ghazal
(Pronounciation: “guzzle”) Originally an Arabic verse form dealing with loss and romantic love, medieval Persian poets embraced the ghazal, eventually making it their own. Consisting of syntactically and grammatically complete couplets, the form also has an intricate rhyme scheme. Each couplet ends on the same word or phrase (the radif), and is preceded by the couplet’s rhyming word (the qafia, which appears twice in the first couplet). The last couplet includes a proper name, often of the poet’s. In the Persian tradition, each couplet was of the same meter and length, and the subject matter included both erotic longing and religious belief or mysticism. ” I did not follow the rules exactly… Wouldn’t be my poetry if I did. I did however try to get the setup right. Tell me what you think, did I get it close enough?
©2020 Patricia Harris
Old stones sitting quietly,
places found most blindly.
Nature reclaiming,
places man lived.
Grasses growing freely,
ivy around everything you see.
Ancient things sleeping,
memories man is keeping.
Is resting continued,
when nature is what is new?

Usually I post my own poems on Monday… Though I have featured other poets. Today I am adding another layer to the possibility of Monday poetry….. A discussion of what poetry is. For me, it is part of who and what I am.

Poetry is something different to each person. It is I think often misunderstood. I have lost count of how many times people have said that they didn’t like poetry… The different forms of poetry so often are lost to time. Poetry is a broad umbrella. Songs and raps, these are both forms of poetry. They require a skill to write that not all poets possess.
A friend and I were having a conversation about some beautiful songs that she had written. Because they were not yet sung, she had been told that they were just poems… Which is both true and not true. I am a poet, but I cannot write songs. It takes a special ability to be able to write lyrics.
I write mostly free verse. I can do other types of poetry. Haiku, sonnets, slam poetry, etc… I am capable of writing other styles. I every now and then challenge myself to write in a structure that I am not used to.
Poetry is a personal form of expression. Every poet does their writing different. Some like my friend Michael who does the Haiku a Day, prefer the structure of a rigid poetry form. Some like me love the lawless freedom of free verse. There are so many versions of verse that you can write however you are most comfortable.
Not everyone is meant to write poetry, but poetry is not meant to be only for the elite. Even bad poetry is worth having in a world of so much suffering. So share with me your poetry! Let me read your soul.
Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,
be in meter, or keep certain time.
Poetry does not have to be shared
it can be written and then hid,
Shoved away into a drawer,
Given a time to mellow like wine.
Growing much finer given time.
Poetry can be shared,
spoken proudly and displayed.
Given to everyone in the light of day.
Put it on public display
Shout it out,
It’s all okay.

TW: Discussion of Suicide

I try to keep my blog some what light. Well as light as a half mad poet can be. Still something happened last night that got me thinking. One of the strongest women writers I know reached out to me. She had, unbeknownst to me, suffered through a suicide attempt during the holidays. Now this is not to tell her story, as it is not mine to tell. This is to tell my thoughts on something she said to me.
I have quite a bit that I bury to just keep going. Not whining, just telling the truth here. Between arthritis pain and carpal tunnel, my hands hurt constantly. My mental health adds a whole other aspect, as I dissociate. I struggle with impostor syndrome. I am diabetic, and my relationship with food is one of mutual hatred. I often get so busy that I forget to eat. I am raising and homeschooling the most stubborn teen known to man. I have not been able to go to college. The only reason I graduated high school was because my principal decided she didn’t want me wandering the halls anymore. I have dyslexia. I am an insomniac.
During all of this, I produce this blog. I write as 2 Separate pen names. I am half of Fae Corps Inc. I take on far more of the responsibility for it than I should, leaving my partner frustrated at me. She feels like I don’t trust her, which is by the way the farthest from the truth. She is one of a handful of people who I actually do trust, unequivocally. I have 20+ books under my pen.
Now…I told you all of this not because I felt the need to share. I told you this so I can share the point that was made for me. The conversation I had, and my take away from it…started out because of a thread talking about writers block. I really don’t have writer’s block, ever. Thanks to tumblr, and other fun sites, I can easily find new prompts. I have a collection of story ideas that may never get written. For me it is more a case of limitations. Mostly physical, and a lot of pushing past due to sheer stubborn stupidity.
Well, my friend told me that I am talented(which was a wonderful thing to hear) and too hard on myself. That brought me to the epiphany of today. I am hard on myself.
I have a hard time realizing my limits, and nothing I ever do feels good enough. Somehow, like the starving artist ideal, the poet who sees themselves as less always felt right. My self esteem has gotten better over the last few years, but not so much that I could easily stop the self depreciation. I think that the word change may be coming into play. Time to stop beating myself up for not being able to do what I feel like I should. Time to stop beating myself up if I don’t see my writing or my art the way others do.
I told my friend that I am hard on myself because that is how I keep going. There is and is not truth in that. I am forty four. I have spent the majority of that time having only myself to depend on. Making poor choices, mostly because I saw no other choices to make. Well why did I take the hard path? Because that was the only path I saw. Now, I have people in my life that have proven that they will be there. That form a layer of protection in case I fall. It’s something many don’t think about, but having someone who cares helps.
I have not been suicidal in the traditional sense in years…One of the meds that I was put on as a teen caused suicidal thoughts in me…but other than that I never wanted to die…I only wished that I had never been born. Now I have so much that I am responsible for in this world that is good…well I am past that thought even…and it is not something that I just woke up one day and didn’t wish that I didn’t exist…It was just gone. I look at my life and think that if something happens and I don’t wake tomorrow…I will be remembered as more than the emo brat that I end up being most of the time.
So let’s change together. Let us stop using negative thoughts to beat ourselves up. Together let us remember what we are doing that is good in this world. Spread Kindness for no reason. And together we make the world a better place.



So I actually published this a few days ago. The paperback edition is still not available… I’ll be fussing about that shortly. But the link for the ebook version is here. So I figured that I would let you have that until I can get the paperback live for you.

Bebe Rexha – Gonna Show you Crazy
Lyrics – There’s a war inside my head
Sometimes I wish that I was dead, I’m broken
So I call this therapist
And she said, “Girl, you can’t be fixed, just take this.”
I’m tired of trying to be normal
I’m always over-thinking
I’m driving myself crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
And I don’t need your quick fix
I don’t want your prescriptions
Just ’cause you say I’m crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
Loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
Mental out my brain, bad shit go insane,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’ve been searching city streets
Trying to find the missing piece like you said
And I say child don’t need to find
There’s not a single thing that’s wrong with my mind
Yeah, I’m tired of tryna be normal
I’m always over-thinking
Driving myself crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
And I don’t need your quick fix
I don’t want your prescriptions
Just ’cause you say I’m crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
I’m gonna show you
Loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
Mental out my brain, bad shit go insane,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you
(I’m gonna show you)
Crazy, crazy, yeah I’m gonna show you
Crazy, crazy, yeah I’m gonna show you
Crazy, crazy
Tired of tryna be normal
I’m driving myself crazy
And I don’t need your quick fix
I don’t want your prescriptions
Just ’cause you say I’m crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?!
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
Loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
Mental out my brain, bad shit go insane,
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
I’m gonna show you
Yeah, I’m gonna show you
My 2 cents – I feel this song. So much. I have been fighting mental illness my whole life. I was misdiagnosed when I was younger, and the meds for the diagnosed disorder were not good for me. I ended up hallucinating, or lethargic. Added to the symptoms I already have… Well I was miserable. And I had a hard time getting doctors to hear me. So I often felt like I was crazy, and it was not a good thing. I think that we sometimes celebrate crazy with out helping it. It’s become cool to be out of your mind. Except for if you really are.

My latest poem is live on Chw. Hope you enjoy.

