Pretend I'm Dead - NaPoWriMo Day 10

 Pretend I'm Dead
     by Vito del Valle

Today my head feels like a wrecking ball.
Damn, did I throw myself against the wall?
     I can not remember all that I drank, 
     I try to recall but my mind goes blank.
Too dizzy to stand, so I guess I'll crawl.

My pen is moving, it knows what to write.
All the stories and lies I told last night.
     There was no one here to pour me a drink,
     I drink alone because it helps me think.
Everyone is wrong, I know that I'm right.

My only friend is the pain in my head, 
He tells me to hide and pretend I'm dead.
     I've trained myself to survive through the day,
     With a drink here and there, it all goes my way.
To face the world sober fills me with dread.

Note: Off prompt. I'm hungover, so I wrote about being an alcoholic. I embellished a lot. Poem #97 for the year.

I Can't Write A Love Song - NaPoWriMo Day 9

 I Can't Write A Love Song
     by Vito del Valle

There was a time I could write a love song,
A woman could always capture my heart.
Now the words escape me, don't come along,
Melodies are gone, lost hold of the art.

I haven't know love in so many years,
There are no women for my obsessions.
Today I fill my songs with fears and beers,
Play sparkling chords of my dark depression.

Still, I dream of the one to break my chains.
Love, to take me back to when I was young.
A tender woman to help ease the pain.
A woman to help me write songs unsung.

I can't write a love song to save my life.
I can't find a woman to call my wife.

Note: Back in the 90s, during the skate punk years, I was a songwriter, had a band. All I did was write love songs for all the girls I was obsessed with. Those were the best years of my life. Now, I find it hard to meet someone. I haven't been in love in 25 years. I've written about this theme before. I've written sonnets before, this one was easy... I need to get out more, meet people. Poem #96 for the year.

Existence Is Futile -NaPoWriMo Day 8

 Existence Is Futile
     by Vito del Valle

Existence is an infinite void.
Every second of life is an eternity of absolute death.
View the sadness in a starving child's eyes, 
     while savoring the spoils of pointless war.
Listen to the lamentation of the people without hope.
The scent of rotting corpses on the battlefield,
     compels you to feel the ichor of life in your hands.
When death calls your name, you see the darkness for what it is,
     a black eternal emptiness, 
     where the light fears to go.
When an newborn cries, a hundred enemies ready their weapons,
     eager to battle against the radiance.
Adolf Hitler committed suicide at the Fuhrerbunker in Berlin.
The cunning devil of hatred said his last "Sieg Hiel!"
And still, existence did not flinch.
The sun continued to rise on men and continued to set on 
     their shadows.
Death's scythe continued to dance, mowing down
     the flowing fields of humanity.
But people must be brave and have hope.
Exist in light to escape the void.
Carpe Diem!
Puro pinche 956, a la verga!
We'll be dancing on the graves of our fears, and
     singing praises to our resolution.

The ghost of Vito's mother will look at him and say, 
     "Vente mijito, no seas pendejo."
He'll try to grasp her ethereal hand, but it will disappear.
And Vito del Valle will drift hopeless and helpless, 
     in the infinite void...

Note: On prompts, I think I got 18 or 19 of them in. It was a challenge. I went dark, real dark. Not my best but I had to write something. Poem #95 for the year.

How To Kill Yourself and Take As Many People With You - NaPoWriMo Day 7

 How To Kill Yourself and Take As Many People With You
     by Vito del Valle

There are options:

A. Write Bad Poetry - This takes years of practice. Every word written of bad poetry is like a growing cancerous tumor on your soul. If you want a slow agonizing self-inflicted death this is the go to method. Every person reading your bad poetry will also experience the same lethargic death created by your words.

B. Draw/Paint A Terrible Picture - A pencil or brush is as deadly a weapon as a scalpel. Every stroke of your hand is like a knife stabbing your body. The more terrible the picture, the faster you will bleed out. Anyone who views your picture will gouge their eyes out and flail themselves gloriously.

C. Sculpt A Hideous Piece - Clay, Stone, Wood, whatever the medium, create the most unimaginable maddening sculpture possible. So rude and offensive to the moral fiber of humanity, God would have no choice but to strike you down. Everyone who saw your piece would be driven insane and suffer instantly from a heart attack or stroke.

D. Write and Perform The Worst Song Ever Written - Whatever your instrument be: guitar, piano, trombone, banjo, etc. Use it to create the most cacophonous noise of horrible melody and structure. Chords and choruses inconvincible to the minds of man. Perform the song with passion and ferocity, and you will open a portal to oblivion which will swallow you whole. People hearing your song will spontaneously combust into flames leaving a pile of ash.

E. Bring An Acoustic Guitar To A Party - self-explanatory.

Note: On Prompt. Sometimes, it's just fun to be weird, lol... Poem #94 for the year.

Words To Be Said - NaPoWriMo Day 6

 Words To Be Said
     by Vito del Valle

When I used to live in the big city
There were nights when I couldn't sleep
I'd go out for a coffee and a pack of cigarettes
Walk around telling myself promises I'd never keep
Like one day I'd write a novel as good as The Stand
Or a book of poetry like Love Is a Dog from Hell
But I moved back home to my boring little town
Back to the empty streets I knew too well
Years later, I sit alone in my broken home
Smoking too much, drinking too much, thinking too much
Of the times I was too close to the flame
Remembering, I could have been a such and such
Now, I'm a lonely man sending out submissions
The rejections make me numb, make me stubborn and drunk
Till the final day comes, I'll keep writing
Because there's still words to be said from this old punk.

Note: Off prompt. I was feeling broody today after going to therapy, after visiting my mom at the nursing home. I've been writing a poem a day since the beginning of the year, sometimes it turns into journaling. Poem #93 for the year.

Echoes Of Laughter - NaPoWriMo Day 5

 Echoes Of Laughter
     by Vito del Valle

Beautiful children murdered by malevolent school shooters
Hard working families displaced by chemical disasters
Corrupt police officers harass and kill people of color
Christian Nationalists congregations lead by hateful pastors
This is our America, ruled by elected leaders
Congressmen, Governors, Senators, the Supreme Court
They shed no tears for
     the children
     the families
     the people of color
     the victims of hate
Money, greed, and power fills their blackened hearts
As their maniacal laughter echoes through
     the halls of Congress
     the halls of our capitals
     the halls of the White House
The so-called elites are howling their way to the bank
The people lose faith in a system that was never broken, 
     and is running just the way it was meant to be.

Note: On prompt, kinda. This poem is more in the style that I usually write. I don't really understand why people write about forests, butterflies, and flowers when there's so much evil in the world that needs to be confronted and destroyed. I don't know, I'm just an anarchist, anti-fascist, weirdo... it's what happens when you grow up punk rock. Poem #92 for the year.

Return To Dirt - NaPoWriMo Day 4

 Return To Dirt
     by Vito del Valle

The time has come to speak the truth
No matter who the truth may hurt
Slaughter the old to save the youth
The time has come to say the truth
Ancient mores die in the sooth
The frigid past returns to dirt
The time has come to speak the truth
No matter who the truth may hurt

Note: The prompt was to write a triolet. I had never heard of it, but it was easy. I wrote about how the old way of thinking needs to die already. Kids of today shouldn't have to follow old rules because the times are way different. Poem #91 for the year.