Open Poetry #12 |
It Roams around |
walker Member Elite
since 2001-02-11
Posts 2240Florida |
I placed, my feelings on the table. I'm in one dead end place. Fears, overpower me. Sadness, overwhelms me. Preoccupations, don't let me be. Is there an ending, for this. I try to focus on the light, but with my crying, it's a difficult task. My mother always said, walk straight, what she really meant was, plan ahead. Would that help me now? I placed, my feelings on the table. I look at them, face to face. This agony, has no end. If I leave, where would I be? If I stay, would I be sane? So many questions, so little answers. Is like a whirlwind, my heart. It knows, no measures. It roams around. I cannot decipher, what it wants. Emotions, plague me. In this world of ours, I've struggled. And like everyone, I just get by. My illusions, I thought I conquered. Only to find, just fantasies. I've faced my feelings, and come up empty. My indecisions, secure my life. A quarter of a century must pass, for the writer to understand what and why he writes. [This message has been edited by walker (edited 03-20-2001).] |
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© Copyright 2001 walker - All Rights Reserved | |||
Celeste Senior Member
since 2000-11-11
Posts 597 |
Powerful writing, Walker. I can so relate to this emotion that you've expressed so well. Guy Finley would say, the emotion is not you. Separate the two. I ponder that at times......... The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in reading, in order to write; a man will turn over half a library to make one book. |
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doreen peri Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812Virginia |
really enjoyed your poem and the images.... just make sure you don't do what i do... and get out the plate, knife and fork.... feelings can be nourishing for sure, but it's better when you don't slice them up into little pieces and salivate on them in order to aid in the digestion hope that made sense if it didn't... don't worry it was just me saying it |
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