Ars Poetica Day 7

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.

Ars Poetica Day 6

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.

Ars Poetica Day 5

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.

Pad challenge Day 4

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.

Ars Poetica Day 4

Each verse is bled
Straight from heart
To page…

The poem is
Emotional waves
Solidified.

pad challenge Day 3

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.

Ars Poetica Day two

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.

Ars Poetica Poem one

The urge to pull the pen
to bleed upon the page
is something that seems
to be unwilling to fade…

I thought poetry would be
a passing phase,
something that I would grow
out of as I would age.

Instead, I have found myself
drawn deeper in,
bleeding more verse
than I wanted to in the end.

Monday poetry

Monday poetry