Poetic motion

Everyone knows someone who can's seem to shut their mouth and stop talking. I'm one of those people sometimes. I love to talk, I love to communicate. I can do it almost fluently in two languages, and one day (hopefully) I want to make it three.

But sometimes communication just isn't enough through speech. Sometimes I communicate better through a media: art, photography, poetry, collages, music... which could explain the creation of this blog. Emotion to me can't be trapped inside. It needs to be released into the open in some form. Instead of blabbing on about my 'horrible day', why not do it creatively on paper? Find a way to express myself through imagery and symbolism. That's just how my mind works best sometimes.

Poetry moves... it has a motion all to it's own. It can run or march or trudge or skip - all depending on how it is written and what the author is trying to communicate from it. I've written poetry for - well a long time it feels like. I don't know when I realized it was such an emotional outlet for me, but it's become more so recently. Even reading poetry has motion. It can move you, influence you, direct you...

I'm going to put up one of my poems in this post. I wrote it back in December. I think it accurately portrays my feelings and thoughts about communicating through media...

Behind Bars

I'm in my cage
Feeling locked away from normality
Every once in a while a small taste is granted
Every once in a while things feel right
Things feel like they used to
But now I'm locked up
No chance to spread my wings
The letter and law are my turnkeys
They keep me imprisoned
Daylight is glimpsed through my bars
Sunshine is glorious to my withering eyes
But glimpses are my only chance
Basking in light, now that is a dream
A dream that can't be realized
One that can only stay in my head
But now, and only now there is a chance
A small escape away from the cold damp of my cell
A pen, a piece of paper, a light by which to write by
This will be my key
This is my escape to the outside world
And maybe someday, someday soon
I'll be able to bask in that sunlight

I'm not someone who gets 'depressed'. I'm usually very upbeat and full of a spirit that spreads out to everyone around me. But like everyone else, I have my down days. December was full of down days... and I needed to express that. I know now... but then I sincerely felt that I had no one to talk to. I know that I did. I chose not to. Instead I escaped into my poetry, my expression that didn't have chains.

There Was...

There was the longing to reach
To let secrets be known
But the fear that emotions would show

There was the yearning to love
And be loved in return
Yet anxiety continued to burn

There was the longing to jump
Into the unknown abyss
Felt the mark was too large to miss
So I jumped
And the arrow fell short
The target was missed
But the response wasn't an unfeeling retort
Instead you understood
My wings were stripped from me
But you helped me glide to safety

There used to be a spark inside
I thought it was extinguished but was wrong
It still burns strong

There used to be a knife plunged deep
It was removed
But the wound still seeps

There is now the wish to turn pages
To write the next chapter of my life
With words that forget the strife

And press on

I wrote 'There Was...' the day after 'Behind Bars'. I'll probably explain my emotions behind them in a later post, but for now, it feels good to put the poetry on here.

Skipping forward in time a bit... I wrote this next one in February.

It's Amazing...

It's amazing to find yourself
Lost in a maze of emotion
It's curious to be found
Hanging upside-down
Not knowing which way is up
And therefore always falling on your face
It's incredible to see
How something simple
Can grip you passionately
Can clench you like sand
Held in a fist, so it slowly trickles out
Until there's nothing left of it
And it leaves you drained
It's astonishing to comprehend
That some things always were
Some things simply are
And yet others will carry on
This is none of those
It is terminal, fleeting
It lasts as long as I entertain it
Try and grasp the sand
But it slides through my fingers
Leaving emptiness
Loneliness
A longing to belong
It's amazing...

I'm rereading these for the first time in months... and I'm feeling the motion all over again. Trust me, when I get creative, it's gonna show in these posts! Just the fact that so far I've written two posts in less than two days is proof. Who knows... today feels like a creative day. We'll see what comes out of it.

Salama.