The Birth of a Child
By Patricia Harris
For Mama the birth
Is a major event,
But who is to say
That it’s not a major
event for everyone else?
It is a moment when
The universe celebrates
A definite win.
So, every birthday is
An excellent excuse
For the universe to
Celebrate.
Writing poetry is
Just another art
Pick up the pen
And bleed the
Colors of your heart.
Your soul will be
Painted in your verse,
Clear and consise
In flowing words.
Friendship
By Patricia Harris
I cannot explain how lucky
I feel to have you as my friend.
Sometimes, when the world is closing in
You seem to be able to keep it
From squishing me into my own mind.
You cannot seem to see
The darkness that I feel
Except for when you are
Around to light up my life.
Though luck is a empheral thing,
I am so very grateful for the luck
That to my life you have brung.
If writing poetry
Was all that I could do
Perhaps I would find
That I would find
Moments of bliss
Written in the verse.
Achieving happiness is often
So much of a wishful thinking
That when we stop to try
We often forget to do
What is needed to be done.
I think that for me
Writing verse
Might be the way
To find the happiness
I seek.
Putting the words
To the page
In an eye pleasing way
Is not all that poetry is,
Sometimes it is more
About ripping up
Your soul and placing
The pieces whole
In a way that tells
The story properly.
The poetry that doesn’t
Move poet nor reader
Was not written well.
In putting the pen
To the paper
I may be committing
The darkest of sins,
For bleeding poetry
Is acknowledging
That the world
Yet can be used
To hurt the soul again.
It is not about the words,
The rhythm, or the verse,
It is merely about the truth
That only poetry can be
Made to let loose.
A Choice Made
By Patricia Harris
So I had a choice
And I made it,
Not sure if it was right,
But a choice was made
Anyway.
Perhaps I should plan
My choices better,
To avoid the mistakes…
But I feel like I would do it
The same way anyway.
Each verse is bled
Straight from heart
To page…
The poem is
Emotional waves
Solidified.
Falling in Reverse
by Patricia Harris
Spending the majority
of my life feeling like I am
Falling in Reverse,
standing up dizzy…
sitting down strong…
and yet is there really anything wrong?
Trying to figure out
why my life is so
backwards and wrong,
still fighting to remind myself
that I have always been
first and foremost strong.
Though lifting the pen
To bleed on the page
Seems like a gift,
A talent given,
I would argue that
There are days
When writing poetry
Feels like madness leaking
Outward from my head.
Rhythm and rhyme
Pulsing in time
To how broken
My heart is.
Pattimouse 