Wasteland of the heart
By Patricia Harris
Perhaps dystopian tales
Have it all wrong,
The apocalypse will not be
Some huge global catastrophe…
Instead I think that
It is going to be
A slow decay of the social
Heart and mind.
That has already begun
With man no longer caring for
The fellow man…
The wasteland of the heart
Has already started to form
With the world not decaying
Just falling apart silently
From within.
Tropes
By Patricia Harris
Writing based
on the expectation
Is harder to explore
The openness of creativity.
Tropes in poetry
Tend to be
Writing love
And nature poems.
I’m not a poet
That leans towards
The tropes to hold
My writing up.
My Best
By Patricia Harris
As I ramble,
I gathered praise
But all I could hear
Was the need to improve,
Because I thought all that they saw
Was the flair in my eyes.
So I lifted my collar
And set myself up
I was going to do more
Until I was not able to bear it.
Though I had already
Done my best.
When Hope Ends
By Patricia Harris
The beginning of all things
Is when we decide that hope ends.
Because Hope is the thing
That keeps alive the what ifs.
Realism means that you look
at what life offers
and don’t look away
when hope ends and the world
shows you the darkness
in sway.
Regrets
By Patricia Harris
In the moment when you seek
a reprieve from your own mind
or the uneasiness of your own skin…
that is when regrets sneak in.
The emotional toll is heavy indeed,
for regrets are weighty when the
soul is most in need of relief.
*Poet’s Note…Though I have been Keeping up with the PAD Challenge…I failed to post yesterday. I apologize. My Daughter is very ill, and I have been trying to keep up. I was at the ER most of the Day yesterday.
The end is nigh
Or so they say,
Not a chance
That it is just a
Matter of perspective.
What you consider
To be the end,
Might be a bit
Of a beginning
For the next person.
Poetry is a long forgotten art
Often seen as stagnant
Except the rare ones
That understand why
Reading poetry has
Years of dreams written in short verse.
Hope Splashes
By Patricia Harris
Heaven has nothing
On the exquisite
Pleasures found here
Earthbound.
So much of what
People stress over
Lingers in the mind
After it should be
Sent on its way.
Hope helps us
Enjoy the
Simplicity of life.
In Between
By Patricia Harris
Finding the middle ground
In between the same thing
I have already been
And the scary thing
that I am becoming…
Seems like it will tear me apart.
The question is will you be
Right there with me
As I evolve or will I again
Find myself alone?
Perhaps the reason why
I struggle with that middle ground
Is it is not where I should be,
Evolution is the best thing
For me…
When the wind calls you home,
I hope you become poetry.
When you have nothing left to say,
I hope you write poetry.
When all in you has been turned
Into the noise of the world,
I hope you find poetry to quiet it again.
And child,
When you have naught else
That you can depend upon,
I hope you have poetry.
Pattimouse 