Monday Poetry

Poetry

Perhaps forgetting is better

by Patricia Harris

Lost memories seem
to weave the idea of grief
into daily life,
speeding the thoughts
through the loom making
the blanket of heaviness
to weigh on the mind.

Perhaps forgetting is better,
a feather instead of stone...
the moment left alone
when the weight is less
on the shoulders than
Atlas knows.

Monday Poetry

Monday Poetry
Poetry

Caustic

by Patricia Harris

The words that drip from your tongue 
burn deeply into the soul,
Caustic like the acid,
Perhaps I am lost in a fog
of the brain melted by what you had to say...

I stand here broken,
wondering if I have made
many the wrong choice,
Walking through the acid rain...
for someone who will never see
the damage inflicted.
For the one who will always
cause me pain.

Monday Poetry

Poetry

Brainless

by Patricia Harris

somehow I have lost
my brain in my travels,
I feel like a zombie
wandering loose lost.

Every one seems to think
I am brainless
because I don’t follow
the notes of society’s song.

Monday Poetry

Monday Poetry
Poetry

Lost Time

by Patricia Harris

I have spent so much time 
giving away parts of me
with no concerns of
what I was tearing from myself...

Thinking that it was
what was expected
from me...

In reality all I was doing
was pouring time
into others,
openly ignoring
the holes I was creating
inside of me.

Monday Poetry

Monday Poetry
Poetry

Lost In The Void

by Patricia Harris

perhaps the world would be better
if we were to get lost in the void,
not really holding ourselves to the plan
that society says we should.

instead I think we could wander
freely in the openness of the possibility,
letting ourselves learn how to exist
in the world just being happy.

Monday Poetry

Monday Poetry
Poetry

What am I supposed to do

by Patricia Harris

my dream was so clear
in the younger days,
I understood that I
was able to do anything.

Age has stolen
clarity and the ideas
that I often clung
deeply to…
leaving me without
any clue what I am
supposed to do.

Monday Poetry

Poetry

Singularity

by Patricia Harris

Perhaps I am not the person
I thought I would be,
So like everyone else.

Perhaps I am but a
singularity,
a lost note
in a song sung
by the divine.

Monday Poetry

Poetry

Deep from Within

by Patricia Harris

Faith can be a fragile thing
Pouring from the broken
Soul to be a living being.

It comes from deep within
To fill up cracks that
Break the heart and
Somehow the world
Will exact.


The End

The End
FAQ

Okay…Today was the end of November’s poetry posts. Tomorrow will be a quiet day here on the blog. I will likely be trying to schedule the week ahead. The current plan for my blog is:

Monday poetry – This will be Poetry by Patricia Harris

Tuesday Tunes- This will be a day for me to discuss music

Wednesday Whispers – This will be a sneak peak into Serena Mossgraves’s writing. Either Poetry or Fiction. This could be a short story or a teaser. I will try to at least post something fun.

Thursday Topics – This is going to be a bit random. It could be publishing, Mental Health, Writing, Politics, Rants…just about anything that I have burning my mind that week. Or it could just be a meme that I found worthy of sharing…I am not going to limit this one.

Friday Share – this is the same as it has always been. Share with me something worth looking at. Or I might share in the comments something fun. It is a easy day for me.

The weekends are rarely active here. I do my scheduling on Sunday. So I occasionally will post on Saturday or Sunday if I see something that I feel the need to speak about and don’t wanna wait until Thursday. Otherwise the only posts I will try to guarantee is the Book Birthdays. ( I am terrible about remembering to do these here. Fae corps always remembers) I will likely be doing a daily thing again in April, May, October, & November… 2 poetry and 2 art. Whether I stop the other posts during that time or not…well I will see. I did this time because I felt I needed to reorganize the blog.

Ars Poetica November 30

Ars Poetica November 30
Poetry
Time to pause,
As all good poetry is
but a practice of

Metered thought
and the rhythm of
how practical verse can be.

So, with genteel caution
thrown to the wind…
write bad poetry…
then pause to write
good poetry once again.