Digging through a box of memories recently, I came across a notebook where recorded within its pages were my long lost bits of poetry. It is interesting to me how the world of writing mutates and changes through the years. Like the phases of the moon, different interests grow, wane and then disappear. Throughout high school and my early 20's, my writing interest lay in poetry. Some are pretty sappy, you know how high schoolers can be. Everything is about true love and romance, and looking through the world with rose tinted glasses. But, coming across this piece, it seems more timeless. A piece so versatile, I could have written it today or tomorrow, not yesterday. A poet I am not, but even still it evokes emotion and longing. Doesn't a poet pull from the depths of emotion to move a reader? Perhaps I will have one good bit of poetry in my life. Then again, perhaps I am biased because it is mine. This is my favorite:
Dreaming
~by Lisa Hamer~
When the sky a
soft black ebony and
the moon casts her eerie glow,
as my eyes flutter closed
in acceptance of the night,
it is then that he visits me.
Eyes blue, alive, sparkling
his mouth turned up
in a laughing wide grin.
He beckons to me,
and we walk together,
like browsing
through the tome
of my memories.
Even as a picture captures a moment
Even as a picture captures a moment
the details are, yet,
so vivid.
I turn reaching,
grasping for him,
and, in that moment,
he eludes me, and is
gone.
The night.
The mysterious, haunting night.
I lay there,
covers pulled up to my chin.
You ARE a poet. I can't do poetry to save my life.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it fun to look back and see what we were thinking and writing during those highschool years?
ReplyDeleteOh wow!
ReplyDeleteHope you're feeling better!
Welp, you KNOW I love this. Interesting observation on how the world of writing mutates. Very true. I wonder what the real effect blogging will have on future writing styles. Or lack thereof.
ReplyDeleteI am not a poet, nor do I even come close to understanding it. There are time when short stanzas are the only thing that will express feeling though.... :)
ReplyDeleteI love poetry.!!! I think that each piece takes a bit of us with it and keeps us in that moment in a beautiful sort of way. :)
ReplyDeleteYour great~
ReplyDeleteStopping by from SITS. I am far from any shape or form of a poet. At least you weren't dependent on rhymes. My sophmore year of college I got big into writing sappy, love unrequited poetry. I sorta blame my creative writing professor who was a poet and made us write it all the time. There were two poems I wrote after I met my significant other though, one with rhyme and one without that I actually thought were decent.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! I don't think just anyone can be a poet. Like me. But you are great!
ReplyDeleteI loved it! thanks for sharing!! Great poetry also invokes emotion and I felt it!
ReplyDeleteThis poem pulled me in right away. And the opening lines are great, "When the sky a soft black ebony...".
ReplyDeleteI also like how you comment about the world of writing mutating through time and experience. I have found that so true. Great post!!