Along with taking photos, I’ve been just a little stuck on poetry lately. I love it. I’m inspired by it. I’m moved by it. One of the best feelings is establishing the connection between feelings and words, and poetry allows one room to explore that. Usually, I’m an observer. I explore new writings, decide upon new favorites, read a variety of things; however, I now have a desire to not just discover the beautiful things that other people do. I now long to become one of those few who rip apart their souls and expose themselves out in the open for all the world to see.
Now as a disclaimer, I haven’t had much practice. I can’t say I use perfect meter or a consistent rhyme scheme. I get stuck, and words don’t always just tumble out. With that being said, I’ve made it my mission to just write. I’ve forced myself to just feel, without worrying about the quality or structure. Sometimes words come, and sometimes they don't.
Small, uneven pieces broken and glued back together, devoid
of the pattern,
of the structure
meant to widen eyes and drop jaws.
No breath of consistency--
just smooth silk
brought to an abrupt end with the pinprick
of a sharp, jagged edge;
but the rich drop of blood only adds to the beauty.
There's a place to hide during any storm:
one piece to drown in,
another of felicity,
of freedom,
a piece for questions--
a separate for answers.
Wings to fly,
a cave to fear.
There is no whole,
no singular place
but many,
integrated, complex layers
built one upon the other
composing something both
uniquely breathtaking
and terrifying.
One thing can't be itself
without the other,
no one thing can stand tall
without the pieces that give it height.
-NF