Original Poetry

I have not shared my poetry for a while now and I have come up with a couple more pieces since then.  I have decided to put a small explanation under some of the poems.  I understand that poetry can be a little hard to understand and some that I write are specifically from a different point of view and so I have explained things like that if they arise.  I hope you enjoy reading something here that I've not shared before.   

Promises to Keep

I am sorry, but poems are dancing through my head

And I can not sleep

I must forget about darkness and falling back on my bed

Yes, I have promises to keep.  

-

I write many poems at night, it's probably not the best time to do it but when I can't fall asleep at night, I like thinking up rhymes.  

Dressed in my Very Best 

I am dressed,

And ready to go.

Today I am wearing my very best.

Into the wind, I hurry away, so 

That my hair is pushed back as I leave the nest. 

I will not look back, no, 

Head pointed forward, I will not second guess, lest

I should fall into a hole and land low.

Yes, I may be young,

And my feet are sore.

But the taste of adventure drips off my tongue 

Like honey, and I crave more. 

Others are with me, the same tune is sung

Of a longing that comes from the core. 

The travelers wait for their time to be wrung 

Out, like a towel, and see what next will come knocking on their door.

I said, I am dressed 

And ready to go

I am clothed in adventure like it is my very best.  

-

Remember when I talked about the novel I am writing a couple weeks ago?  Well, this poem is not from my point of view, it is from the point of view of the main character from my book.  There are parts in the poem that go along with things in the book (actually not just parts, every part of the poem has in some way or other to do with different parts of the book.). 

The Truth Behind Knowing 

I can imagine how, 
The world shivers and quakes
From the billions of people set upon it now 
But not, exactly, from their weight.  

The world seems to quake from
The ideas and questions asked,
From unsolved mysteries by authors already done
And all the death and pain and whys from the past.  

The world seems drowned
By all the when, how, and whys.
There is no gap, no break, every day is filled with so much sound
The search for answers consumes until they die                      

                                                                                      
Now I must ask
Why? 
Maybe the answers are hidden behind their own masks.  

-

I don't have much to say about this one except when you see the word 'mask', do not think, quite literally, a mask. Most poems are not literal, metaphors are used heavily and if you are quite literal you might have a hard time reading poetry at times. There is much more to this poem but I think poems can be for everyone because it's not like telling a story where you "had to be there". If you can understand it in a little way for your experience and outlook on life then you have understood it, even if it was explained in a different way.

Out of it, we Make 

We are all a part,

A part of this corrupted world

Filled with solitude and pain.  

Yet, we can improve it, yes, with art

And books, and beauty. My finger is curled,

Tight, around what is left, as I examine the stain,

The stain left by war and blood and I start to dart,

I dart away then realize, yes, we may be hurled

Into this ugly world with nothing worthy to gain 

Yet still, out of it, we make art. 

We, humans, create it

Without even realizing, we create 

We can not quit

We understand our fate

We won't still, won't sit

Not until every color is laid, every syllable straight

-

I remember watching Dead Poets Society and at one part one of the characters said this: 'We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.'  I did not originally think it, but my poem reminds me of this quote.  

Sit With the Trees 

I walk across the cracks

And wonder how many have done so before

Their forgotten names stuck 100 years past 

Since then things have changed, the things we love, hate, and abhor.

I wonder if any are watching me question the world, With that thought I can't but move fast.

I walk into the forest 

And wonder how many others have longed to run 

And sit with the trees and let them heal the sorest 

Hurts to come.  

- 

I have no idea where this poem came from, I will probably elaborate on it later but for now, it stays.  

That is it, my friends!  I hope you enjoyed it.  Have you ever written a poem, even a small one?   

Question of the day: do you prefer rhyming or free verse poetry?  

Thank you for reading!

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