Pre-poetry micro-challenge: Days 11 and 12

(forgot to post this one but I wrote it on Day 11)

Today I was trying to think what I was passionate about. In my adult life, I've found it hard to feel like I'm passionate about anything because I'm quite easily sapped of energy and so I don't often take on creative art projects or stick to erstwhile hobbies like playing piano. However, then I started thinking that there are definitely things I feel strongly about. I definitely have moments of flaring anger, or bursts of delight. Thinking about this, it occurred to me that one of the things that tends to drive me to passionate expression (usually in the form of rants or shared posts) is injustice.



The injustices that get me most are ones where somebody is (or feels) forced to surrender their power to somebody else, or to give up their rights to somebody who has greater power to take what they want or need. Unfairness has always made me mad, and institutional unfairness makes me livid. Here's the word block that thinking about that led to.

Voice. No one has the right to silence yours, thought many will try. If one voice speaks too softly to be heard, how much louder will it speak if you add yours to it? I am livid when some try to silence the voices of others. Repressive silence is at the heart of so many injustices in today's world. If it can't be said for its own protection, the more need that it be exposed. If it hurts you to hear what someone has to say, how much better will you feel when you to find a way to ease their pain.

With the information overload of getting ready for the new school year, I actually realized I don't want to be inspired right now, I just want to git'er done, especially in terms of things not having to do with school. Since I'm feeling a bit overstimulated, simplicity is the name of today's game! Back to the basic challenge.

It was a dark and stormy... grey descending, heedless, invincible yet affected, melancholic. Sardonic noir humour, tempest raging unheeded. No eye of the storm, he resides in the face of it, unseen and trampled by the elements. Mystery, dark and bold, chiaroscurro film. Banister, balustrade, buttress, butler, butter, better buddy. Night under streetlamps or day peeking through the grim. Carless, deserted, death lurks here, murder and larceny. Have a care for your wallet. Attend to your secrets.