Okay. So, I have company this week (well not just any company) but my mother. Which, on one hand will be great, as she is an awesome grandma who already has the boys in the palm of her hand. But, this means I won't have time to write this week, soooo I figured this would be a good time to share something I've already written.
As I've said before, although I love poetry, it's not my strong point. Maybe it's because I only write poetry when I need to release some sort of emotion--usually pain, frustration, etc. All the dark stuff. It usually does the trick for me, as I feel better after writing it. As far as sharing it, it doesn't usually make sense to anyone else.
I found this one which I think is pretty cut and dry:
A Blink of a Breakdown
I want to tumble, spat from bare air
as fear sulks, left behind by Newton’s law.
I want to ride a dirty train in some foreign country,
drowning in novel accents
where I can stand naked in ignorance,
watching strangers blow out heavy tar-smoke
like burnt souls filling the cab, laughing
at something, as if life were actually amusing.
I want to stare
at a building so breathtaking
that I actually forget
I want to fill my lungs with ocean salt.
I want to be reborn so many countries later,
I ring the front desk to ask
what day it is.
I want to taste the speed of light.
I want to stick my tongue
In the lemon meringue sun,
Lick the gathering foam
From death’s noble steed-
Gallop faster, won’t you?
I want to scream.
I want to plop on the fire branded sands
And wink back at the seas of possibility.
I want to give someone a thing of
value and turn away before
they smile politely,
having no fucking clue
what lay dead in their hand.
I want to hear glass shatter.
I want to be transported to magical lands
by strange mushroom drinks
concocted by uncivilized hands.
I want to stare, unblinking star by star
And know down time’s line
a spent story of light will exist
In memory of me.
I want to flee down a haunted hall.
I want to not be haunted.
I want to shatter every mountain
and feed their ground bones to the sea.
Heaven is flat, open, infinite.
I want to breath.
I want to live in the darkness
because the light shows the ugliness of humanity.
I want the darkness to not live in me.
So, those of you out there that write poetry, what moves you to start a poem? Is it emotional or more physical, like an event? I would love to read some of yours so feel free to post them!
Have a great week.
2 hours ago