By Daniel Paiz

Sometimes there are some words that need to be put out that are not part of the NaPoWriMo series. It’s a 2021 poetry piece, a standalone if you will. No sequels or prequels, no connected universe or world-building franchise. Just one bit of writing that’s by itself. Writing can be a cathartic thing, and in this case it’s more of a shaking off the dust and getting back to something helpful.

Turmoil

All the inner turmoil,

Vesuvius cliché pressure flow,

You already know though.

This isn’t a cry for help

but an airing of grievances,

wrong time of the year but

It’s now Festivus season,

all about that throwback nostalgia,

prepped you for the next line,

Audience I’m not your fah-ja,

What’s next after 30 years under the sun?

All that turmoil at this age?

For that I’m supposedly way too young,

Yeah this was supposed to stop,

at 18, then 21

but after 25 and 30, it seems

an extended run

This airing of grievances

brings about a conundrum,

rehash the stumbling blocks,

or construct them into steps

to get to the next rung,

I can’t always be about that firefighter life,

extinguishing flames for other folks,

meanwhile sitting back on their saved rooftops,

watching my own towering inferno

I’d ask for much needed precipitation,

but it’s already zoned out,

as Fiasco has mentioned before,

this area is off-limits just like certain pizza routes.

Remember this moment in time,

Everybody has some turmoil

Prior to breakin’ out a crooked smile

at such inner lacking soil.