Poems from the Heart

Sometimes when you write poetry, it is completely you, 100% how you feel at that moment, but then the moment passes. Sometimes, you have a thought, an inspiration, and you begin to write, and as you do, you conjure up the feelings you need to put into the poem. Is it possible to write a poem and never have felt what you express in it? I don't know. I know it's not possible for me. On the other hand, every poem is not a complete representation of who I am - there is often an element of fiction, of imaginings, of taking my feelings a step or two beyond my own experience for the sake of the poem. And endings are important, aren't they? What they leave the reader with, the last line, the last thought, the last feeling, the last impression.

I've written a few sad poems lately, and a friend read them and felt bad about how I must be feeling. But I smiled and told him that I might have felt that way when I wrote, that I might have had a moment where I was totally inside the words, but once they escaped onto paper, I also escaped the sadness. But I'm sometimes able to be thankful that I can feel the sadness, for without pain, without loss, without struggle, without loneliness, I don't think we can ever feel as deeply or love as profoundly.



River Tears
(a Sonnet)

River tears, tumble and toss over stone,
streaming, running, cascading ore’ my heart,
songs of love and need; I oft cry alone
in silence, feeling pain those drops impart.
River tears, going where? To the deep sea
one day? An ocean waits to gather my
salty sadness – it gladly waits for me
to come to it, until my eyes are dry.
River tears, no beginning, always there,
like the polished rocks in the river bed
that feel life pass them over. ‘Tis not fair!
Oh, that I could be those cold stones instead
of who I am. Hard. Instead, I’m sending
part of me while my tears are unending.




Dashed

To the ground,
stirring all manner
of dust and dirt
as I land
in a
heap.

To a dead place
a cemetery
as all I hoped
for is
lost and
dreams are
not to be
realized.

To a broken place
like a piece of
china
thrown against a
wall
in fury,
passion,
tears,
when all
I wanted
was
for you
to love me.

We use the word
when what
we thought,
what we longed for
was hurled
away
and utterly destroyed
before our eyes
before our hearts.

I am dashed
and I used to think
it was something
that happened to you
only once.