Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

I Have No Words...

Image from here

The urge to write
It is insane
A buzz inside
My fertile brain.
The subject which to
Touch upon?
An idea once had
But now is gone.
" Bloggers Block "
The proverbial name.
"Baby Brain "
Is sure to blame.
The urge to write
But no words yet...
This stupid poem
Is all you'll get!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Poetry - Past or Present?

Erin from Motherhood Y'all commented on this post that i had " writing talent " when it came to poetry. It was a nice compliment to receive and it got me thinking about all the poetry i have written in the past. A select few poems have been published ( but only in those Readers Digest anthologys that no-one actually reads... ) but most of my writing was for my eyes only. Back in high school and early adulthood, when i was all bleak and depressed, and back before my blog, poetry was my way of getting thoughts and feelings off my chest and out of my head. My poetry was borne out of pain, loneliness and a dark, dark place. Even so, after the comment on my so-called talent, i felt the need to go back and read some of what i had written. For example ( and for more examples, try searching " Amy Louise Wells " at http://www.poetry.com/ ):

Sonnet

Like holy Mother Mary meek and mild
I'm but a supporting player in this scene.
Why do you treat me like a lowly child?
As if my hopes are nothing but a dream.
Each night at rest my heavy eyes I close
And sleep does visions of my future hold.
And in sleep I am depicted as a rose,
A character both beautiful and bold.
But upon waking I am just a thorn.
At least thats how you often make me feel.
Perhaps I was just better off unborn
Then all of this for us would be unreal.
And so in theses last words I tell it true:
In fact I'm better off not here with you.


Reading it over, i immediately remembered what kind of headspace i was in when i wrote it. I still feel an attachment to every line i've written, even if so much of it DOESN'T relate to my life anymore. There are poems from days i felt abandoned; days i felt angry; days when, living overseas, i felt homesick. There is nothing written out of happiness. I'd never felt the pull of poetry when I was happy. Til now. Til that post last week, when i wrote a poem about my son. Its strange that, of all the thoughts and feelings that this little man has inspired in me, that he should bring me back to poetry, which was always a refuge in a dark place.

Perhaps that means that dark place may have finally seen some light.....

Monday, July 7, 2008

View from the window ( Headspace 07.07.08 )

The streetlights turn on
Just as my lights turn off
The rain has come and
Caught me in its damp.
In it's downpour of
Thunder and lightning.
The air has gone cold
Sending a chill through my bones,
Cutting to my very core.
I wonder if i stepped out
Into the storm
Would it do the same ?
Would it penetrate my body,
Wash me pure, clean?
Or would it drown me
In it's fury,
Sweep me clean away ?