8th grade
I had lost what I am
in realization
that I wasn't truly what
I actually was
did not know but the fact
that I was only shadows of what
the others made me
popular, local celebrity at
the age of t-h-i-r-t-e-e-n
lost in that swirl
broken the rules, hearts
and something fragile inside
pain increased as despise,
first sober thoughts were
disguised from revelation, to be turned
into self-hate, cutting
withdrawal, snake slithering to
its pit
I was squeezed out from fluids of live
turned inside, and the inside out
burning insecurity in
expectations out
-side
hibernation, the ice four age teen
like a dying species
alone, loneliness grows exponentially
I made acquaintance with the moon
soul mates surrounded by stars and occasional
shivering lights, magical waves
of polar lights
cold, lifeless, visited still by friends
I did push away them
breathing poison through my lungs to heart
and brains just enough,
and slowly too, to keep me alive
to see my death fuller and fuller, constantly
thinking of bursting
I found a way out of my self-made solitude and
yes, I met my redemption
in letters and words of books as I
hid myself in them
I found a way to dilute the poison out
in words of a poet greatest
on the earth:
"Thank you for life, Mother
Few lines I made letters today
That's all. I am happy."
For all the muses in the world
I took upon me
those simple
words
and do still
and forevermore
when levels of poison
run high to be cleansed again
"Few lines...That's all"
Quote is from "Onni" a poem by Lauri Viita
(translation is mine), a Finnish poet that died tragically in young age
in car accident. The very same day the news of his death was in papers
Finland's most acknowledged poetry magazine published his poem "Onni" =
Happiness
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
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