Well of Words
Word. Another. Joined between a feeling, a memory, a sense. Let it flow from within to sentences. Simple, sensible and truly something original. Written emotions on paper: a poem.
A Poem
Flashing by moment
a sense, feeling
that never comes
another
not to anyone
not to me
ever again
I grab to that glimpse
squeezing the sense
through feelings
eyes closed
forgotten in me
I hold back
and I let go
to paper
a sense, feeling
that never comes
another
not to anyone
not to me
ever again
I grab to that glimpse
squeezing the sense
through feelings
eyes closed
forgotten in me
I hold back
and I let go
to paper
The Poet In Me
Nice to see you here!
This is where my feelings and thoughts many times end up. More than twenty years ago I scribbled my first poems as 14 year old boy that was dreaming about being published author and poet.
Well, as usual, the poems never were sent to publisher and learning process was considered too hard - might have been different if there would have been internet then.
So I wrote occasionally less and less until last year when I decided to start writing for real since I had extra time. Started a blog and build some confidence. Finding All Poetry poetry society really made difference; more fellow poets and for the first time critique. And chance to read lots of good poetry
Now I am serious on writing and aim to improve to the lengths to make it for real. I am going to be published since I have a poet inside me and I intend to unleash it
This is where my feelings and thoughts many times end up. More than twenty years ago I scribbled my first poems as 14 year old boy that was dreaming about being published author and poet.
Well, as usual, the poems never were sent to publisher and learning process was considered too hard - might have been different if there would have been internet then.
So I wrote occasionally less and less until last year when I decided to start writing for real since I had extra time. Started a blog and build some confidence. Finding All Poetry poetry society really made difference; more fellow poets and for the first time critique. And chance to read lots of good poetry
Now I am serious on writing and aim to improve to the lengths to make it for real. I am going to be published since I have a poet inside me and I intend to unleash it
tiistai 3. marraskuuta 2015
Rotten Sad
Love
arbitrary in talk
cemented in seasons
and symbols
over used worn-out
as if it ever could
conquers all brings back to life
mends bends does every trick
love
spoiled shunned
yet isn't love all marvel
home of
each man's shivering esteem's urge to find
and be one
love
the power to be
all you need is...
to lose one
lose love
still be loved
to run out of pain
so lost, one does not find
emotions inside
the terror
to look into
your own child's
eyes
past any description
for you
I look back
numb
empty
-------------------------------------------------------------
"I can't feel anything but sadness" was the prompt in contest. I wasn't gonna enter. Hadn't written for couple of days so i started just to dribbling with words; there was a thought (another besides the contest) of writing something nice and positive for a change and started "love" then me hit me and forgot the positive: "arbitrary" and got on making the dullest lines "conquers all". About then it hit me...the saddest of any possible; something to easily win feeling "anything but sadness". To be crushed so that one feels nothing - there is not a single thing in the world beyond nothing, the power in it!
I finally had idea of writing and just kept on but making true statements on love like "urge to find". We all have it, and to be loved. And "the song" came to mind and i thought this is the time change gears from 5 to REVERSE after ... "lose". Afterwards i decided to leave it open but for my sake i'll give here my interpretation. I did write it as lose like to die before time. And to lose love - to lose capability to love after a heavy loss (or dual version: dramatic events in life). Yet "still be loved" as the people around you do no matter.
The terror, this is what hit me in beginning when i was still just dribbling with words. Five years ago i was in the state of mind obliged to experience this "terror". My children were young - in the age that all they know of world is little to compare to the love they know "past any description" for parents. And i had to look them back feeling nothing yet knowing and recognizing that fact at the same time; numb, empty, for many months.
I haven't lost anyone before time but i do have slight idea how it could feel. I was just bruised by me - a bit more heavily then than ever before. Mind is sometimes bit shaky to go out of control.
I like this poem, funny how it started and came to (version 1.0) completion. There was only one word i crossed over a second after writing it. Otherwise non, its here - the dribble
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