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Literature Text
[persistent]
words flood a fire in my synapses
forming sentences, shapes, ideas
it is a barrage,
wild and unruly,
nearly
endless.
and so I write.
and write.
and write.
and
I ignore the words written by others
because I find it too difficult
to step
outside of myself
to see
to even acknowledge
the beauty of
this troubled
world
around
me.
caught in this whirlwind, I am the opposite of gentle.
words flood a fire in my synapses
forming sentences, shapes, ideas
it is a barrage,
wild and unruly,
nearly
endless.
and so I write.
and write.
and write.
and
I ignore the words written by others
because I find it too difficult
to step
outside of myself
to see
to even acknowledge
the beauty of
this troubled
world
around
me.
caught in this whirlwind, I am the opposite of gentle.
I write...and don't post most of it.
But when I do post it, I make sure it goes into the groups I love.
But. (here is my shame)
I have stacks and stacks of poetry in my folders that I just...can't bring myself to attend.
Groups...sigh...
People I watch...I read them, people...I promise I am reading your words Shanna, Ron, Jay, Dove, Sam, Jen, even you Rachel... etc etc...but there is just something stopping me most of the time from appreciating them like they deserve. Something inside of me.
cliche...it is me, not you. but I promise I will shake out of it...eventually.
So.
They are sitting there.
Waiting for me...forgive me?
btw...I have having a sort of love affair with Sta.sh.
yeah. I like it. I like playing with my words here before I post them.
I have...a few staring at me.
But when I do post it, I make sure it goes into the groups I love.
But. (here is my shame)
I have stacks and stacks of poetry in my folders that I just...can't bring myself to attend.
Groups...sigh...
People I watch...I read them, people...I promise I am reading your words Shanna, Ron, Jay, Dove, Sam, Jen, even you Rachel... etc etc...but there is just something stopping me most of the time from appreciating them like they deserve. Something inside of me.
cliche...it is me, not you. but I promise I will shake out of it...eventually.
So.
They are sitting there.
Waiting for me...forgive me?
btw...I have having a sort of love affair with Sta.sh.
yeah. I like it. I like playing with my words here before I post them.I have...a few staring at me.
© 2011 - 2024 dragon-fly-to-me
Comments118
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I can relate to this one, as well. Sometimes, I feel so caught up in my own thoughts and feelings that I can't properly appreciate other people's work. I want to be in the right frame of mind when I read your poems especially, Jess, so that I can appreciate them and give them the attention that they deserve. That being said, I really like this one. The format suits the overall theme very well, and your imagery is excellent as always.
'words flood a fire in my synapses' is my favourite line. It just seems to perfectly capture the feeling you get when you are inspired to write. I had a moment of poetical inspiration a few days ago, at two o'clock in the morning... I wrote down all of my ideas in a notebook that I keep on my bedside table. It still needs a lot of editing, as I haven't had much experience of writing poetry, but I'm going to keep trying.
'words flood a fire in my synapses' is my favourite line. It just seems to perfectly capture the feeling you get when you are inspired to write. I had a moment of poetical inspiration a few days ago, at two o'clock in the morning... I wrote down all of my ideas in a notebook that I keep on my bedside table. It still needs a lot of editing, as I haven't had much experience of writing poetry, but I'm going to keep trying.