A Passion Of Mine

[Coleman]

So as some of you may know I love poetry I have been so dead from work lately that I haven't written any in months though. Now havin quit my job and am headed on a path to a new chapter in my life my mind is racing I've been on a train since 11 last night and have slept maybe an hour but I finally wrote a new poem the words just flowed out of me with such ease and grace I was so pleased that I wanted to share it with y'all. One day I hope to get some of these published but for now I wrote out of pure love and enjoyment of poetry. And now the moment you all have been waiting on my first poem in months. Please please please give me your two cents as I share these

The sun slowly arises on this dreary day
And awakens us to new beginnings
As I stare out upon the horizon
I see nothing
But I know in my heart
In my soul
That the future holds great things
The darkness is what keeps us moving
Constantly headed towards the light at the end of the tunnel
Onward folks life awaits us

[Chreees]

Deep, man.

[Coleman]

So my writing seems to come in spurts now sadly it used to be a constant thing but I finally wrote a new one today. To better explain this one though you need to understand one of my metaphors, the dark and light. Now this metaphor is different for me darkness is life and light is death much like the dark tunnel and the light at the end is whatever happens after death so without further adieu here it is Sucked in by the whirlpool of endless despair And spat back upon the land I once knew There is nothing here for me Just sad memories And haunting shadows of those I once knew Nothing will ever be the same Nor do I want it to I have stared in to the abyss Only to find it looking back at me Laughing As it condemned me to walk this barren land Smirking as it told me its not your time And then the darkness enveloped me And I knew things were just as they were before But not I I was forever changed I no longer feared death But I loathed the darkness that I had once loved

[joytron]

Here is one I wrote:

 

 

I sit cross-legged

In the rough Earth

Pulling,

I feel the tendrils resist

As if to say

Let me live!

But like all things the voice

Dies

Only to be replaced by something

Not more beautiful in any way

Or better

But something that belongs

 

A thought I can not help

Takes root like those tendrils

It is the hand of God,

Removing the invasive white man

To be replaced with the

Natives

Not more beautiful in any way

Or better

But something that belongs

 

The tendrils once again break

I sit cross-legged

In the rough earth

I wonder what caused this thought

Has the dust made its way into my brain

Or perhaps too much Snyder

Or maybe something simpler

Less tangible

 

Perhaps there is something about

Sitting cross-legged

In the rough Earth