He always seemed to be a mark that poets of my generation were expected to try for. While I enjoy his work, I found others who touched my soul more.
Posted by Patricia Harris, Author on Thursday, March 24, 2016
Category: poetry
Anxiety
If you could,
Please tell me,
what exactly is
Normalcy?
Every thing i do
Just to try and fit in.
And still it feels i will
Never win.
Chaos surrounding
weirdness abounding.
Too strange to be
Like the world around me.
Must fight to adhere
Show no signs
Of queer.
Bury the shame,
Act just the same,
Else you won’t be
Allowed near.
vibrations
A story whispered
Told again.
Heard by those
Not meant to say,
Growing monstrous,
Expansion uncontrollable.
Truth or fiction,
Rumbling through society
Becoming legend,
Becoming real.
Difference twixt legend
and fantasy shone
n a harsh and
an all too revealing light.
Vocal
It’s your voice i hear,
When my doubt is high.
My hesitation stems
From you not hearing
Each echoing cry.
I show you my art,
My blood, sweat, and tears.
In hopes of pride swelling high,
all you can do is huff and sigh.
Tis but doodles you claim,
I guess you really do not see
How deeply it is you are cutting me.
I show you my words, written with care,
Shared so intimately.
Only to feel disappointed again.
No pride in me,
No surety.
All i hear dripping from
Those lips i love,
Is how naught i do
Is ever good enough.
In celebration of World Poetry Day
I have decided to share a poem from each of my volumes of poetry, including my w.i.p.
from A pocketful of poetry : Don’t blame me
from creative Juices : Creative Juices
From Sacks of Wit : Vibrations
From Word Play : Vocal
And lastly from my Wip….
Life Drops : Anxiety
Go find a wonderful poet and enjoy! Here is some of my favorite Poems and Poets.
There are many more, but these are some of my most favorite.
Creative Juices
Dripping loosely
the juices flowing,
the muses kiss sending
random ideas to a
creative brain.
Stories & Poems,
Lyrics and verse.
Flowing free the words
both dark and light.
Wringing out the heart,
pouring loose the soul,
putting pen to paper
trying to fill that hole.
Nothing blocking the drain,
naught to hide the pain.
Beauty and joy,
hope and sadness,
Intermingling loosely
as ink wets the page.
Don’t Blame Me
You see the darkness
That has seeped into my soul,
And fear the same that
Resides within you.
Do not hold me to blame
For seeing what you
Dare not.
Explore yourself,
And see what lies within.
Embrace it all
And fear it not,
For no part of who you are
Is meant to frighten.
I speak what lies
Within the human soul,
Within the human heart.
Those words are torn from
Experience that was hardest won.
Do not hold me to blame
For seeing what you
Dare not.
When you walk along
The path that I was forced to crawl,
And hold your head to the sky,
When I could barely see into another’s eyes.
Do not think to judge that escape
That the truth has wrought.
For in this life the truth
Is the only tool that I was allowed.
Muse
Trying so hard
To spark the muse,
To get an inspire.
Brainstorming,
Planning,
So much i can’t see.
How do i pull this creativity
Out of me?
Searching the web
For the dreams
That others have spun.
To start a storm
Electrifying new places,
Starting ideas flowing.
Elusive muses failing
To provide even
The most simple idea.
can we play
So busy hurrying along,
Simple pleasures lost and gone.
Forgotten toys,
broken and gone.
Same question all along.
Can we play,
and have some fun?
Can we laugh,
Jump and run?
Whimsy competes
with hope and dream,
Pushing us to all that we can be.
Weary and tired,
as life draws us to the bone
leaving us looking for
Relief and joy.
Baby steps, my friend
Due to the having my phone die, I have been using a android emulator to run my apps. So my writing app went from being convenient to being a true pain in the backside. So last night I decided to transfer a few of my Work in progress to the computer as text files to make writing easier. Especially since the Emulator seems to really dislike my notebooks app. It crashes way too often. Well today I was transferring Elizabeth. (I still need to come up with a better name for that one). I checked the word count when i finished pasting it to my office document. It was only 1298. I decided to do a bit more on it. When I set goals for my daily writing, it is usually only 250 words. Well after about an hour of writing, I decided to take a break and do some dishes. So i checked my word count. 2198. I am so happy with that. Yes i realize that is not a huge difference. still it felt like a huge jump to me. So I was telling another writer friend about it.
That conversation led to a discussion about when writing is more difficult. Also about writing poetry and the emotion that goes with. I mentioned that for me winter is easier to write because i am not able to get out and about. And sadness helps the poetry flow. she commented that she had maybe written four poems…ever. I have lost more poems than I have published. I had a book once with around a hundred poems i had written. The chick i was living with at the time stole it, and my son’s baby book. To be honest the poems in the four volumes i have published were only written in the last five years. I have been writing poetry since I was nine years old. Somehow the papers I have written them on have found themselves lost. So even though I have not been published until fairly recent…I have been writing my whole life. I have won some poetry contests, been published in my high school literary magazine, and a few other compilations. I’ve never won any money, and so I never felt like I had met my dreams.
Now i have made money on my writing…( a total of $0.35 lol) I find myself wondering if I really didn’t understand my dreams then. As I have aged, I keep finding that my youthful dreams were ignorant and slightly blind.
Pattimouse 