SayEtcétera: free-verse poems and short stories

By M.P. Capellan

Not the how-to or the get-rich blog posts, but short and easy reading of relatable stories and poems. Over the years, M.P. Capellan has been publishing her poetry and micro stories on her blog for the simple pleasure of writing and reading. This is a compilation of some of those stories, for the free verse lover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.P. Capellan
• Release date: Jan 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463493373

M.P. Capellan

A linguist, illustrative storyteller, and a passionate human rights advocate, M.P. Capellán fell in love with words at a very young age. In addition to writing, she loves arts and crafts, reading about world history, traveling, and dancing.Her writing style is undefined, but for the most part she writes short contemporary romance stories, poetry, and nonfiction. Visit her online at www.marciacapellan.com to learn more about her and all her projects.

Book preview

A MISUNDERSTOOD SONNET

Are you grieving?

No, I quizzically said.

You only talk about sad things.

How to tell her that I’m a requiem;

an airless breath, a heartless ribcage,

a misunderstood sonnet.

I want to tell her about the times I’ve stared blank

at the silver clouds up in the sky, never hearing a reply.

So unable to express the feeling of not feeling.

I felt so much that now I grew immune, emotionless.

Am I grieving? Maybe I am.

Hands forced up in the air by circumstances,

while life points a riffle to my back.

I’m detained. Can’t escape.

Change your ways, they say, for a tree you ain’t.

At least a tree can be uprooted and that’s the end.

I’d much prefer a painless death.

Sad things because it’s all my now heartless ribcage knows since long ago.

I know of instances and mental getaways, and thoughts of a time when I’m less insane.

We sometimes lack the things we need the most. Like Cowardly Lion’s, my courage is a ghost.

She knew nothing about me, yet she noticed all that there was.

I SEE YOU, YOU SEE ME

I see you people-watching

and I know you see me.

But you prefer pretending that you don’t see me,

so I respect your wish to not want me to see

that you’ve seen me.

My sight focuses somewhere else for distraction,

but my gaze again seeks and finds your gaze.

And I see you, and you see me,

and it comes down to this:

what has been seen cannot be unseen.

So next time you see me,

won’t you just let me see you?

TOO MUCH OF THIS NOT ENOUGH OF THAT

Big part of my upbringing taught me how to be submissive. Didn’t teach me to stand up, I had to learn it. I learned to speak up to get what I wanted. A painfully shy life form, I could never do enough to fit the norm.

Be quiet! they’d tell me. Kids don’t have a say.

Smile!

Sit up straight.

Raise your head when you walk.

Look at people in the eye when you talk.

Don’t laugh so loudly!

Don’t sin, act godly.

"Pristine girls don’t run around like horses;

they walk in a straight line..."

And perhaps unknowingly, they gave me too strong a spine. But still, not fine.

Now I socialize too much

Now I speak up too much

Now I drink too much

Now I dance too much

Now I go out too much

Now I walk too straight

Now I laugh even louder

Now I make too much eye contact.

Now? Now I am

too critical

too political

too feminist

too biased

too unbiased

too liberal

too picky

too open

too shady

too secular

too qualified

too unqualified...

Now I’m too much of this, yet not enough of that.

Now? I changed, but I still can’t please everyone.

I am not what was expected of me.

Yet I’m everything I’m happy to be.

You can change your learned behaviors.

Find your own voice, have your way.

Can you imagine us all being the same?

I certainly can’t.

FAR AWAY

From someone who’s been there and done that:

if you wanna go far away where nobody knows your name,

it’s only you in your way. Do it, don’t be afraid.

You’ll have moments of utmost happiness

and moments of loneliness.

It could be a good thing

while you reconnect with yourself.

You’ll learn new ways of living.

You’ll make a whole new gang of friends.

You might not learn their real names

until seven months in,

but life’s an adventure,

don’t spoil the end.

I said the best thing about meeting new people is

they can’t judge your old mistakes.

Ah, a chance at a fresh start, bad vibes gone bye-bye.

And no matter where you choose to go,

you won’t leave that place the same way you came: unknown.

When you go to a new place,

you’ll find out what it is that

you’re running from, or running towards.

And if you like your space and the people you met,

you can choose to stay.

If not, you can always go far away

again.

ONE MINUTE TO MIDNIGHT

Appreciated, discriminated

Fascinated, aggravated

Infatuated, humiliated

Motivated, devastated;

Words can’t express

How much, the distress

Feelings you can’t undress

Become a bigger mess

And I feel, and they feel

The struggle, so real

Don’t know how to deal

Much less, how to heal

A rock and a hard place;

A slap on the face;

A wild goose chase;

An eternal rat race.

No finish-line at sight

Luck is a tough fight;

One minute to midnight

And all could be alright

They’re not impressed?

Keep doing your best

Don’t sleep on it, but rest

You will pass this