Posted in Therapy

Flashback to 1995

This isn’t necessarily a “happy” poem but it makes me “happy” that after 20 years, I still have this poem.

It exposes the truth of how I felt then and how it echoes how I have been feeling lately……

famous (May 1995)

can’t even write

don’t know what to say

there is no light

to make me feel okay

uncomfortable in my shoes

punishing my feet

put them to use

just to look neat

knuckles i crack

to help me think

i arch my back

and try not to blink

sitting and staring

looking around me

emotional bearings

trying to escape me

music without

i am bored

entering of doubts

cannot afford

i am distant

apart from friends

this very instant

too much blends

my head explodes

whenever i am lonely

the memories implode

crying…only

wish i were famous

never have to worry

time makes us

life is a hurry

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Posted in poetry

Why Poetry?

It always brings me back to my youth
Tasting an apple for the very first time
Smelling the fresh air of the summer wind
As your friend gives you an underdog on the swing set at recess
I loved those days, it always felt like summer
The first ride in the car going down to Florida
For summer vacation
Capturing memories and dreams on paper
Why poetry? Because it has everything that real life
lacks. Absolute freedom like you couldn’t imagine
A child is poetry
Because poetry is open-minded and confused
My poetry is confused by me sometimes
Both children and poems are vulnerable

Sadness and joy
Laughter and anger
Greed and envy

Unlimited feelings and emotions become adjectives
In poetry
Thoughts stray constantly
Without boundaries
There’s too much structure
In America sometimes
Not enough innocence
Why poetry? Everyone has something to say
Our souls must roam free.
Throughout human history as our relatives
Have had to face the shocking and alarming fact
That we have no clue who we are
Or where
We are going
In this maze called life!
The people of “power”
The ones in command?
You know?
The religious
The political
The educational establishment?
They have tried to sooth us
By giving us order, rules, and a set of laws
Instructing us and shaping our minds
To accept their view of reality
What about my view of reality?
That is “why poetry” for me
I still want to hug a bag full of sweets
And run around wild chasing fireflies
Once again I return to my youth
Helping my dad out in the garage
Or baseball games with the neighborhood kids
At the lot across the street
I take steps forwards
And sleepwalk backwards
To the small days of early life
Why poetry? I want to think for myself
I question authority
and the rules it provides
Poetry is not structure
We must keep talking
And let loose the power of our mind’s eye
Put ourselves into a state of open-mindedness
Allow room for chaos and confusion
Weren’t things better when we were young and confused?
I want to live dangerously
And yet remain calm, clear and observant
I’m no fool, I see what goes on all around me
So I write because its how I feel
That is “why poetry” for me.

 

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