I am going to write here. Maybe a lot, maybe not a lot.
Probably a lot. xD I enjoy expressing myself.
I would like people's inputs, comments, critiques, and so on!
I also would LOVE people to share anything they have written/will write.
It's sad seeing this thread so dead. I know there's a lot of artistic minds on this forum.
I wrote this untitled poem about 5 minutes ago after waking up from a nap because I have had a rough week so far.
It's kind of depressing. But it made me feel a lot better.
Restless, I lie awake at night
Racing, my mind plays trick on me
Hurting, is all my heart seems to do
Watching, as the world keeps spinning on
I try to run with it
Tripping as I try to match pace
I stop and begin to wonder
If I even belong where I am
One word with so much meaning
With so much power
With so much Change
Wonder, working in our minds
I stare out into the world
Wondering if it's staring back
If anything is staring back
But all I see is cold silence
And all I hear is my loneliness.
Last edited by Soul; 06-22-2013 at 07:34 PM.
The poem brings to mind Byron's Darkness and some of Whitman's Leaves of Grass . Stylistically, I would probably format it differently; the word choice seems rather disjointed and erratic, while passionate, but it's presented very orderly . I actually had an e.e. cummings feel to it when reading, like
I can relate to the content, though, and certainly enjoyed it . Whitman actually has quite the response to questioning identity and purpose:restless I lie awake at night racing, my mind
bleeding, hurting, empty
but not empty enough
or it would deaden
all i can do is
the world spinning around me
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
That you are here—that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
Like something you'd expect on a HS English comprehension exam.
By which I mean it's legit. Good stuff, young Skywalker.
Life's a short one, it is. We often go so fast that we don't even have time to stop and realize how short it actually is. But is that true? Do we really not have the time to stop and look at our lives? Or do we just think we don't? This is a true wonder of the human race. A true wonder of our hearts.
We stop and listen, but only for a moment. We hear the quiet beating of the world under the loud mask of our lives. But are we hearing what matters? Are we listening? I try to grasp what life is to me, but I can never get more than just a small handful. A small glimpse. But no answers. We try so hard to get insight on things, yet we fall short. Only realizing the true answers lie so deep. Deep enough to where we can't get to them. Unless we slow down.
We know that if we try to dig down to get them at the speed we're going, we'll burn right through them. And we don't want that. We cannot risk it. So we move on. We live on. We pass up the perfect opportunity to find our answers. To find our happiness, our peace. Because we move too fast. And we don't want to slow down. It's hard to admit to ourselves that we're trapped. Trapped in a rut that won't allow us to leave. Entrapping us in our countless thoughts of discomfort and misery.
But it doesn't have to be this way, does it? Faced with a challenge and we hide. But what if instead, we fought? Met that challenge. Succeeded in defeating the challenge. Our enemies. Our fears. Our misery. Would we then be able to pull ourselves from the rut? Would we be able to escape the fast pace of life, and finally slow down? See life? Live life? Not as we always have but in a new way. To it's full potential. Where we can look up to the sky, and know that the Sun is keeping us alive. Or to look at the mountains and see how beautiful they are. Or to see the love given to us by others. By an army of hearts.
If we slowed down...
Would we be able to find ourselves?
Your writing makes me think and I love that, both pieces you wrote are great