Poem: Still Stuck


I think the words I said to you, we’re not clear enough; now I’ll be crystal clear, we’re over dear, no new beginnings again.

The time we spent was meaningful, I will cherish it. I’ll remember it with fondness.

And I miss the nights we spent together, the dinners, the coffees, and just that sense of being together.

But the love is all gone and I can’t go back; the memories are good but our beliefs don’t match.

Sometimes I’m lonely, but that’s okay. It’s a step in moving forward. Finding new love again. 

But now I’m just being me and dealing with my life until I can find a way to find another somebody.

And I won’t see you, if you think it means, I’ll go back to you. Let’s just be friends and forget. We came close but you’re not the one. 

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Poem: Tonight


There is no where to go; when you can only say ‘no.’And look down the street knowing you’ll never go that way.

When a desire to say ‘yes’ leaves quietly, and hides in the chamber of the soul. I think too much and write to pour, misery into the air, to see it dissipate. 

Come out tonight, it use to be my delight; now I can’t even drink wine alone, without the proper wine opener.

And I’d be glad to spend some time among friends; but life now has a harsher bent. And living feels so alone. 

It would deplete me to go out, for just an hour or two; the minute I can’t handle it  I start to feel sick.

The moon is in the sky, a lunar delight; it covers my tears, and holds my fears. And it is my ill, the night. 

The stars sparkle vividly; they’re bright spots of joy. But I haven’t seen them, it’s been far too long.

Fire in the nightmare sky, in the breeze, in the house; fire yearns to build up and burn through everything. 

But kept in quiet places, fire can only heat the coals of a life, lost before, it was ever born. It simmers out to ash. 

Unravel life, it’s too complicated, to fix my soul, to fix my body; I’m thirty-years-old tired and worn. 

So, if stay at home again tonight. While the world is alive and I’m still as twilight. I will not mourn, it was never my night.

I’m not the same as I was before, times have changed and barely do I see the sky in blinding starlight.

I’m use to indoor lights that flick off and say goodnight, sleep well, or suffer more.

Writing 101: Day 5- Hope is a Thing with Feathers


Prompt: Use a quote – I know I’m supposed to actually indent this but I found a picture of the poem (quote) I wanted to share. I started out with a different quote but I like this poem a lot better so please enjoy the wonderful poetry of Emily Dickinson “Hope is a Thing with Feathers” and my comments. 

 

I started to learn and appreciate poetry in high school. In school, we studied a unit in English 10 on Canadian Poetry. My favorite line is from a poem I cannot find today: ” No thank you, soldier, I do not like chocolate anymore.” I enjoyed poetry because it was shorter to read then a novel and for me, more meaningful. When I started to study poetry in first year university for English majors, I fell in love with the language of poetry. I love the rhymes, meter, similes, epistrophe, allusions, consonance, alliteration, assonance, metaphors, personifications, and all those other useful tools that form a poem. In my fourth year, I took American poetry and was introduced to the amazing words of Emily Dickinson. 

I learned so much in that poetry class with Dr. McNamara. I learned that you read poetry line by line and sentence by sentence.That the parts of a sentence can be moved around to find the meaning. You can play with words, that’s what this class taught me. You can move words around until you find a meaning, or until you make a meaning obscure. 

“Hope is a Thing with Feathers” is not a poem I studied in University; but I adored it the first time I read the poem shuffling through some Dickinson poetry on the Internet. 

In the poem ” Hope is a Thing with Feathers,” by Emily Dickinson, hope is personified as a bird ” . . .the thing with feathers” (1) and it ” . . . perches in the soul.(2)” Birds usually perch on trees so there is the metaphor of a soul as a tree that the bird perches on. Moreover, the birds song is personified as hope that”sings the tune without the words / [a]nd never stops at all. (3-4).  Like a bird, hope sings a song without words. It has a beautiful song that is only a tune . But unlike a bird, the music that hope sings never stops; the song of hope never ceases  within our souls and it helps us throughout life. The song of the bird or of hope doesn’t need words, to provide help to the hopeless. It is meaningful in a language only the soul understands. 

Additionally, in the second stanza of Dickinson’s poem, we learn “…sweetest in the gale is heard / [a]nd sore must be the storm / [t]hat could abash the little bird / [t]hat kept so many warm(5-8). Dickinson is saying in this stanza that the little bird, the hope that keeps us warm, is not broken by a horrible storm.Our situation has to become terribly difficult for hope to leave us. The bird of hope carries it’s tune even in the biggest winds, the storms, the hard times in life. As well, the sound of hope is sweeter in the wind and storms, because that’s when we especially need hope. Hope would not “abash” us after “keeping us so warm (7-8).”

Moreover, Dickinson writes in the third stanza that she has heard hope (the bird) in “the chilliest land” and on “the strangest seas (9-10).” We hear hope, metaphorically from the bird, when life seems so cold and harsh; when life is moving and changing; and even when a person is sick as a person might become on the ocean which is consistently rolling out waves. Even in “extremity” hope never “. . . aske[s] a crumb of” us(11-12). In the worst times of our lives, hope does not make us pay for having hope. The little bird that personifies hope sings freely, she does not need anything. Hope is given without cost to the hoper even in the toughest situations in life. When everything else is lost; hope remains.

I pray that this poem makes you, the reader, feel better when you are facing life. Know that hope is always “perching” in your soul. It will never leave you in the harshest winds and storms. In fact, hope is “sweetest” in the storm. And to have hope does not cost you. It’s a virtue that’s free. You will never pay for hoping. Even when the harsh cruel realities of the world hurt us, hope will support are plight. In fact, far better for a person to have the freedom of hope, then to not have hope at all. Hope helps us with it’s metaphorical song, to stay strong.