Don't Give Up

Hello again, dear reader. 

For those of you who haven't heard about Project Semicolon, here is their mission statement:

"Project Semicolon is a global non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and love for those who are struggling with mental illness, suicide, addiction and self-injury. Project Semicolon exists to encourage, love and inspire. Stay strong; love endlessly; change lives."

I first heard of this project through my Twitter feed, and I have been thinking about the semicolon a lot in recent times. And the more I think about it, the more I like it. The semicolon is not the end; the semicolon is merely a pause in a story, in a sentence. The words continue after the pause; the story continues. 

And that, dear reader, is the basis behind this poem. I hope you enjoy it.
Rod E. Kok
December 1, 2015

I won't give up,

nor will I

give in.

My story will not end

by my own hand.

Although I am led

by un-holy thoughts,

I will fight

to the bitter end.

When my eyes look away,

I will pray

for strength to close them.

If my body's desire

is to serve itself,

I will try to treat it

as the temple it is.

I won't give up,

this story

will not end.

Yet it seems so simple

to take that easy way out.

Don't give up;

I won't

give in.

http://www.projectsemicolon.org/

Choices

How do I explain

the workings

of a fragile mind?

How can I make you

understand?

I do not choose

to be weak.

Of all my words,

which ones will you

believe?

Of all my words,

which ones

are believable?

I do not choose

to be dark.

I did not want

to hurt you;

I did not want

to burden you

with my frailty.

Thankfully you heard me,

you held me,

you did not judge me.

You understood

my nonsensical ramblings,

the admittance of guilt,

my fear of

giving in.

I did not choose

this bipolar life,

yet it is what I live.

I do not want

to fall.

But when I do,

I choose to go

to you.

The Man

I heard the man,

whispering in my ear.

His soothing voice

drew me in,

his choice of words

convinced me.

I saw the man

in a mirror;

he was perched

on my shoulder,

his talons held me

in their fierce grip.

I felt the man

touch my soul;

a dirty black spot followed

his every caress.

Pain coursed through

my very core.

I fought the man;

every blow

caused him to laugh.

He fended off

my weakening attack.

I followed the man,

submissively I obeyed.

He led me astray,

every fork in that road

was the wrong one.

I cursed the man,

but he shoved me along;

he forced me to go

where I was too weak

to resist.

My words

had no effect.

I heard the man

whisper.

He spoke of things

too dark to mention.

Yet he made it all seem…

right.

I allowed the man

to keep me alive,

to get me lost,

to give me pain.

It seemed I had

no choice,

no choice but to give him

my soul.

I want it back,

for I hate

the man.

In Memoriam

Hello dear reader,

This poem was written a week after tragedy struck. My great-nephew was killed in a farm accident, at the age of 2 1/2 years. I wrote this for his parents Deb and Dan. 

Rod E. Kok

October 13, 2015

It seems our skies

were darkened that day;

a day which started

like every other.

It seems that brightest lights

do not reach that hole

left inside us all;

sunlight's warming rays

feel cold and distant.

It seems that gentle streams

will never soothe our thoughts,

their rippling waters

are not caressing our ears

with nature's lullaby.

Clouds last

but a little while;

soon we will see beyond

their silver lining.

Words of light

will illumine our path;

soon we will not stumble

over our tears of sorrow.

Songs of praise

will fill our hearts,

we will sing with joy

of the comfort we have.

Our skies were darkened

on a day which started

like any other.

Yet we will always have

our greatest memories

of a boy who was loaned

for just a little while.

We know that boy

is in the arms

of Jesus;

those very arms

which hold us up.

Hold fast, be steady.

His arms are enough

for you

and your son.

Stairs

Good day and happy weekend, dear reader. Welcome to day 3 of OctPoWriMo. Today we are prompted to write shape poetry. We are to write about something that drains us, something that depletes our energy. My words today do not talk about this out right, but I hope you can see what my experiences are as a bipolar person. I hope you can feel my tiredness in verse 1, along with the opposite in verse 2. It is subtle, but it is in there. Along with that, I hope you see the stairs. 
Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok
October 3, 2015

I

am

going

down these

stairs, my mind

plays tricks on me

as I descend into the

dark recess of depression.

I find the cold floor; I am curled

up in a ball, trying to stay warm as

I wait for help to come and rescue me.

I

       am

   going

          up these

      stairs. Your

         strong arm is my

 guide, your love takes

         me out of darkness; You

 wrap me in your warmth, your

   breath fills me with hope. My prayer

is to never go down these stairs again.

     

Magic

Hello again, dear reader. Today’s prompt is to write ‘cinematically’. I am sort of going my own direction with this, as I am not so much describing the scene(s) of a movie, but rather I am describing the feelings that a movie puts into me. One of my favorite shows is ‘The Illusionist’, and thus my poem is inspired by this story of magic and love. Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok

October 2, 2015

The Illusionist (Trailer)

Pure magic exists
in a world
where true love
is hindered.

What is this illusion
of grandeur,
this feeling of
self importance?

One cannot force

another
to love.

There is magic
in a kiss,
a tender caress
is conjured from
the heart.

Enchanted music

fills one’s soul
when skin touches skin.

An alluring glance
from warm eyes
casts a spell
on my very being.

But when forces contrive
to keep us apart,
all we need
is magic.

Cloudy Day

Good day, dear reader. Today marks the first day of OctPoWriMo 2015. The challenge this month is to write 31 poems in 31 days. I am very excited to once again be part of this journey, to engage fellow poets, and to renew acquaintances from last year's efforts. I hope you come back each day to see the new offering. I only hope I have the strength to complete the challenge.

My first poem this month is based on the prompt 'clouds'. For those of you who are new to my work and don't know anything about me, I am a bi-polar poet who writes very personal and emotional poetry. Having just come out of a mild episode of darkness, this piece is me. The prompt could not have been any better, and I thank Morgan Dragonwillow for that. 

Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok
October 1, 2015

Cautious whispers

Lurk inside my head

Obscuring my dreams

Under night’s dark blanket.

Daylight brings relief,

Yet clouds still surround me.

Damaged thoughts

Alter an unwilling mind.

Yet silver linings still exist.

Country Roads

Hello dear reader

As I was driving home today, I was listening to some country music and the singer sang about raising cain. Something about that phrase stuck in my mind, and this poem was born as a result. I hope you enjoy it.

Rod E. Kok 

September 23, 2015

Mightier than a Sword

Hello dear reader

It has been quite some time since I have written anything meaningful or worth publishing. I really have not been feeling it. My muse disappeared. I'm not bold enough to say it has returned, but I am really proud of this poem, and what it means to me. Please enjoy, and try figure out who (or what) I am writing to (or about).

Rod E. Kok
June 30, 2015

My eyes fill

with tears of joy,

for I see you

for the first time

in a long time.

My heart beats

just a little faster,

knowing that I

am holding you

once again.

I don't want to

let go,

I pray my eyes

do not deceive.

A light caress,

my fingers find

inspiration, drawn

by the beauty of

this canvas before me.

My mind is alive,

I see your life's blood

swirling in patterns

I never knew

existed.

In a moment of

revelation,

I feel your breath

on my soul.

We belong together.

I promise to never break

this embrace.

In the face of temptation,

I will reveal

that you truly are

mightier

than a sword.

Hardest to Write

Dear Reader,

It is done. #NaPoWriMo 2015 is in the books, and I have successfully followed every prompt, and I have managed to write 30 poems in 30 days. Wow! I have mixed feelings about this. Part of me is happy that it is done, part of me is really going to miss it. I could not have got to this point without my wife Dianne. She encourages me and proof reads my stuff before I publish it. Thank you, my dear. I love you. And to Lizzi, Jesi and Cindy....another whirlwind month of craziness, tears, hugs and (allegedly) pictures (AHEM LIZZI!!!). Thank you 3 musketeers so much. And finally dear reader, thank you. Thank you for bearing with me, and thank you for all the feedback on my work. Let's do it again in October.

Today's prompt was to write a poem from the bottom up. So, we had to write the last line first and work our way up to the first line. This is harder than it sounds. But I did it. And trust me dear reader, this poem, out of all 30, was the hardest to write. 

Rod E. Kok
April 30, 2015

This month of poetry

has been

a lot of work, but

as my thoughts flowed,

my pen recorded

this magical time as

memories were born.

I’m glad I was able

to take part,

for it truly is

is an experience

I will never forget

I am overwhelmed

with emotion

now that my mind is

telling me

this journey is

about to end.

My heart is heavy

and my eyes

are filled with tears,

for the last one

is the hardest to write.