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 Sep 2018 E B K
Hannah Christina
Anything can
look like a poem
and sound philosophical
simply by moving
the words on
different lines.

Am I doing it right?
Is this
really
talent?
Art?
Effort?

I think I am trying.
Really, I am
I go back and change the order
and I break lines
where it sounds right
But it does not take me long.
Not at all.

I try to be
intentional
and call it natural rhythm.
Instinct and style taking over
I alternate between
agonizing every detail
like When to Capitalize
and publishing free form poems without looking over them twice.

How is writing supposed to feel?
Should I labor?
or should it flow?
Or do I get to decide?

I think the things I talk of
mean something
at least.

But am I just
pretentious?

fooling myself into thinking that
using common poetry formats
somehow makes my work worthwhile?
Problems only We True Artists face.
 Aug 2018 E B K
beth fwoah dream
whispers of sea
where the cold storm
gathers in the grey
sky, and the waves
pound the shore
running back
pushing down
arching like
fiery cats,
the ache of the storm
a tearful cloud
the song of
a poem.
thank you to all my friends at this website for their continued support of one of the things i love in this world which is poetry. i've only just realised this is the daily today and i just wish i had more spare time at the moment to write and review. thank you again to everyone.
 Aug 2018 E B K
Valsa George
Bonsai
 Aug 2018 E B K
Valsa George
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
      
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty

among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea

how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference

through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!

destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!

still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
When a divorce occurs, the threat of losing the home and losing the purpose of life confronts a child, especially in the younger age. Children of divorced parents experience a real trauma and they begin to doubt about their own identity!
 Aug 2018 E B K
georgia sophie
there is so much beauty in letting go
severed from the past
simply moving forward
a weightless soul
utterly free
 Aug 2018 E B K
georgia sophie
 Aug 2018 E B K
georgia sophie
you survived today
and that is enough
 Jul 2018 E B K
She Writes
Let Go
 Jul 2018 E B K
She Writes
I finally let go of the past
Because it led me to the present
Right here
Right now
And in this moment
I am blissfully happy
 Jul 2018 E B K
She Writes
Katie
 Jul 2018 E B K
She Writes
Regret
Consumed my thoughts
Swallowed my soul
Ate away at my sanity
Unable to stop this cycle
Of negativity

I should have passed
Less judgement
I should have been
More understanding
I should have cherished
Every moment we shared

Worried that I have lost my chance
Will I ever make you laugh again?
Will we ever make new memories?
I should have told you I love you
When I had the chance
To hear it back
 Jul 2018 E B K
Eleanor Rigby
Death
 Jul 2018 E B K
Eleanor Rigby
Death
Is
Her
Little
Unholy
Friend.


-- Eleanor
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