My fingertips are itching
I need to write some poetry
Short stories are nice
But it doesn't satisfy
The Poet in me
So many ideas are swimming in my head
Want to jump in,
Pull them out
Want to breathe life into them
Before they drown in the sea of forgotten thoughts
Swept away by the rip currents of life
And buried under waves of not enough time
...to write...
...to think...
To gain peace & sanity
Through "stepping back"
I need to write...
Need to gain forbearance
Through reflection of
Yesterday's reality
I need to write...
Need to escape life's prison
By creating my own world
Taking others' fantasies and create my reality
...within my bubble...
Need to pull the Remora
From the underbelly of me where it feeds
But does not produce food for thought
Need to tear down this wall
That allows me to travel roads already traveled
But blocks my forward journey
I see the light at the end of the tunnel
But the tunnel is never ending
Tired of standing in blackness,
Talents overshadowed,
My person overlooked
Rather stand in the light where I can see and be seen
For I am afraid of the dark
Where demons lurk and
Their minions beat on my spirits
Til I can barely stand
Giving me a little lee way,
Making the light appear closer than
What it is then
Beating me down again
...I grow anxious...
Sitting here twiddling my thumbs,
Tired of not knowing
Where it is, exactly, that I belong
I realize life is a journey
But we all need some place to call home
Or am I destined and cursed
To forever be a nomad of the world &
Gypsy in my thoughts
...lost...
Only being able to call my mental Safe Haven,
That corner in my mind that I retreat to
When in need of an escape...My Humble Abode
I am running in so many different directions
...as one can see from my jumbled ramblings...
Simply trying to decide which way to go
What path to take
Or if I should take many
So I don't feel trapped &
Can take a step back &
I'm not drowning in currents or
Being tossed around in
A body of confusion
By crushing waves of
Contempt & resentment because
I allowed parasites to feed off me
While they returned nothing
Just want the angels to carry me to that lite &
These demons to quit beating on me
Figurative & literally
And to think
All this stemmed from me
Wanting to spill my blood on the concrete
After cutting open arteries &
Jumping from the top of the tallest building
To fly momentarily
In attempts to feel like
A beautiful flowing melodic story
Said simply...
All because I want and need
To pen,
Sleep,
Think,
Dream,
Breathe!
Eat,
BLEED!!!
...fly and die...
In the arms of...
Poetry
**Thinking* *
This makes no sense at all
but makes all the sense in the world to me.
*Closes book & drops pen**Walks away*
I need to write some poetry
Short stories are nice
But it doesn't satisfy
The Poet in me
So many ideas are swimming in my head
Want to jump in,
Pull them out
Want to breathe life into them
Before they drown in the sea of forgotten thoughts
Swept away by the rip currents of life
And buried under waves of not enough time
...to write...
...to think...
To gain peace & sanity
Through "stepping back"
I need to write...
Need to gain forbearance
Through reflection of
Yesterday's reality
I need to write...
Need to escape life's prison
By creating my own world
Taking others' fantasies and create my reality
...within my bubble...
Need to pull the Remora
From the underbelly of me where it feeds
But does not produce food for thought
Need to tear down this wall
That allows me to travel roads already traveled
But blocks my forward journey
I see the light at the end of the tunnel
But the tunnel is never ending
Tired of standing in blackness,
Talents overshadowed,
My person overlooked
Rather stand in the light where I can see and be seen
For I am afraid of the dark
Where demons lurk and
Their minions beat on my spirits
Til I can barely stand
Giving me a little lee way,
Making the light appear closer than
What it is then
Beating me down again
...I grow anxious...
Sitting here twiddling my thumbs,
Tired of not knowing
Where it is, exactly, that I belong
I realize life is a journey
But we all need some place to call home
Or am I destined and cursed
To forever be a nomad of the world &
Gypsy in my thoughts
...lost...
Only being able to call my mental Safe Haven,
That corner in my mind that I retreat to
When in need of an escape...My Humble Abode
I am running in so many different directions
...as one can see from my jumbled ramblings...
Simply trying to decide which way to go
What path to take
Or if I should take many
So I don't feel trapped &
Can take a step back &
I'm not drowning in currents or
Being tossed around in
A body of confusion
By crushing waves of
Contempt & resentment because
I allowed parasites to feed off me
While they returned nothing
Just want the angels to carry me to that lite &
These demons to quit beating on me
Figurative & literally
And to think
All this stemmed from me
Wanting to spill my blood on the concrete
After cutting open arteries &
Jumping from the top of the tallest building
To fly momentarily
In attempts to feel like
A beautiful flowing melodic story
Said simply...
All because I want and need
To pen,
Sleep,
Think,
Dream,
Breathe!
Eat,
BLEED!!!
...fly and die...
In the arms of...
Poetry
**Thinking* *
This makes no sense at all
but makes all the sense in the world to me.
*Closes book & drops pen**Walks away*