#OctPoWriMo Day 6-Conquered

Hello, dear Readers.

If you haven’t been paying attention I have missed the last three days of OctPoWriMo posts. This is because I went a week ago tomorrow to get a flu shot (my first in several years) along with the full family contingent, and three out of the five of us had side effects. I know doctors say you cannot get the flu from the flu shot and I do not doubt they might be correct. However, every time I get the shot I get sick. It may be a minor cold but more often than not I end up in bed because I feel miserable and sick. This year was the first year since Tornado (now 7 yrs old) was an infant that he received the shot, and he has been the worst case out of the three of us who did get sick. He’s back in school today since it’s the first time he’s been fever-free all weekend/week. My second eldest ended up with a mild headache and allergy-like symptoms. And today is the first day I’ve NOT had a major headache, nausea, aches, and low-grade fever. It may be needless to say but I did not feel like writing. I did, however, stay curled up in bed with a miserable little Tornado watching Harry Potter and the Once Upon a Time tv series while crocheting said Tornado a Spiderman hat and an owl hat.

The owl hats are adorable! See?

Since I have missed so many days I am going to be working on getting caught up. The first poem to catch up on is Day 6’s post about being “conquered” or what it means to you. Is it a battlefield as Pat Benatar says or is it finding someone who makes you feel as if you can do (or conquer) anything? The suggested form was a rondeau but I wrote free verse. I may try a rondeau a little later as right now my interest is in catching up. My “conquered” poem is more about someone trying to conquer someone else rather than being conquered; it’s about the battle  rather than the victory or loss.

Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

<3 Jesi

 

Aggravation

By Jesi Scott

 

 

He does it, he says, to get a rise out of me.

Then, when I don’t react the way he wants me to,

He says my response is inappropriate.

 

All because I don’t find it funny,

His constant criticism

Or the one-sided verbal sparring

Where he must always prove himself superior;

 

Those arguments where,

No matter what I say,

The words become knife twists

On his tongue,

 

And he’s the only one finding humor

In the stressful situation

He’s created.

 

And I wonder, after I’ve managed to

Numb the pain once again,

If he thinks I’m so inferior,

Why is he always trying to be right?