My goal is to produce a blog per week, and while my entries usually revolve around stories of what's going on in my life, let's face it, my life isn't that exciting.
Since there's nothing going on around here I decided to try my hand at churning out some bad poetry. I'm not a huge fan of poetry or art, since they are so subjective (what one sees as brilliant another sees as drivel), but in the quest for expressive utility and to keep working my brain to stave off atrophy, and quite frankly because I enjoy trying to mold words like a potter works the clay, I figured I would create a few verses.
Some may argue that the best poetry comes from deep within the soul. That may be true but I would settle for it being simply interesting. This piece is a bit dark and brooding, and I'm actually having an enjoyable Saturday reading about post WWII diplomacy. That's the wonder of writing. This piece has no title because nothing snappy came to mind and I'm too lazy to work hard at naming a poem.
I have to add that it really helps the ambiance if the person reading this poem in your mind is wearing one of those artsy caps that jazz players sometimes wear and has a silky voice. The tempo should be slow and methodical.
my mind
thoughts untethered, severed
are all unkind
when will the storm of feelings cease
and leave my broken heart at peace
Listening to the voice of doubt within
tumults the peace I seek
to find again
dredging the sludge of past mistakes
and clouding my sight with its heartaches
How I long for a new day
to wipe my old memories
of pain away
bringing the cleansing power of rain
to make me fully sane once again
That the heart and mind might reject
and lose the weight
of introspect
to loose the bonds of hurtful chains
allowing heatlhy gains and ebbing pains
Only time can wear away
the scars of broken promises
of yesterday
then the heart will beat in peace
and free the mind with sweet release
