Thursday Thrashings - Or: Stumbling Through Some Verse

Been feeling a bit worthless and invisible today.  Had a pity party.  Wrote a poem about it.  Thought I'd share, which is REALLY self-indulgent of me.  However, some of you may have been to this place, too.  Maybe you recognize it, and the way out, as well.

Self Pity
By C.K. Armistead
March 27, 2014

Dark foreboding
Ugly, untrue
Self doubting
Discounting what I do.

Feeling irrelevant
Feeling ignored
Afraid to be irreverent
Afraid my friends are bored.

But still stubborn hope
Looks for sun behing the cloud
Helps my weary heart to cope
Waits to laugh aloud.

Craving for acknowledgement
A sign that I am real
Beyond the ordinary limits
Of what I think and feel

To know you look for  me,
To know I made you smile
Would be enough for me
To know the effort is worthwhile.

And then comes the sun
My friends tell me true
With laughter and fun
They appreciate what I do.


Later, I stopped feeling sorry for myself, packed up the pity party, and reflected on what had happened today.  I went to the salon and had my hair cut and dyed as usual, and the wind promptly messed up what my stylist had spent about ten minutes working on with my bangs.  (She just wants to make sure they'll work right, lay right as they grow, so she fusses with them.)  Didn't really bother me. My hair is so short now, all I do after I wash it is comb it and go.  No blow drying, no styling products, nothing.  Unless it is in need of a trim, in which case a blow dryer and spray are used.  Sometimes.  This is a stark contrast to say, 10 years ago, before I cut off all my hair. It was down to my waist. It was very thick, and if I braided it while it was damp, it never got really dry.  It was HEAVY.  And very inconvenient. 
Today's bout with the wind brought back many memories, so I wrote this:

Memories Blown In
By C.K. Armistead
March 27, 2014

So many memories
On the wind today
Missing not my flying hair
When long it used to be
How it would whip around
My head in the wind
And wrap around my neck
Still the wind pulls
At my very short hair
And cries frustration
At not being able to fling it.
Scents and airs of warm
Summer days
Are on the wind today
Carrying gulls' cries
Though the ocean is far, far away.
Moisture in the air
And clouds flying in
Remind me of storms
I'd rather not see again.
Like pirate ships
Come to raid our town,
To scare us all
And wear us down.
With Pirate Jenny's laughter
In the streaming breeze
Calling vengeance about her
Ignoring all our pleas.

It has been an odd day.  Not quite as cheerful as yesterday.  I guess you can tell that.
 Poetry is good for exorcising a bad mood, though if it doesn't flow well, it can make a bad mood even WORSE.  It seemed to work for me today, though. 
If you made it this far, thanks for reading!
Peace.