Tag: poetry

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poetry

The Graphite Man

Through blurred lines

His fingers run through time

Slow and sublime

Yet he hides behind

And sits beside

The words “I’m fine”

A man made of graphite

Sat finite

On the edge of his mind it

Was a cold and desolate place

The artist drew his face

Replaced it with troubles and woes

Unbound and unspoken

He was already broken

Yet incomplete filled his seat much better

***

“The Graphite Man” was a short poem I wrote after a late-night creativity session. I later created a much longer version, but I believe the original conveys the spirit of the poem much better. Everyone, to some extent, comes in contact with The Graphite Man. He is the embodiment of silent suffering, of the darkest parts of our conscious that only appear when everything else vanishes. In a world where connection with others is through cold, unfeeling screens and scheduled meetings, it’s easier to suppress negative emotions than reach out to others and speak about our well-being. However, scars created from emotions held too long are kept for an eternity compared to the negativity in the moment.

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poetry

Sunshine

Sunshine

A part of mine I take in time

Something I see and long to be

A face in a mirror

Graced with a slower pace

And a tempo more moderate

Than contemporary

I see this sunshine

Find a smile in its sunny rays

Ticking off the days when it will graze

The front of my yard

A place that feels far beyond my current state

Which I hate because I relate more to this mind

Than the one I left behind

I wish it wasn’t hard for me to find

This sunshine

For this sunshine used to light up my skin

It was blood and something I lived in

It was my smile and bright, bright eyes

A world without malicious lies

Constant surprise for the highs

And the joy I brought to others

Treated them like sisters and brothers

Sought solace only in my mother

Yet now there is no sun

My days are done having fun

Even when I had some work to do

I always managed to push through

The end was always near

Yet now it isn’t clear

When and if everything will disappear

And leave me to stand here

Alone

Feeling the sunshine spread its hand

Help me stand

And giving me reason to love my land

***

I live in an area that’s not particularly sunny, so seeing the sun is always a treat. I usually open up my windows to allow the natural light in. While this poem does talk about the actual weather, it also describes a state of mind many find themselves stuck in, especially during this trying time. Isolation is a difficult and sometimes detrimental process, yet it is a step required to see this entire ordeal through. Stay healthy, stay strong, and we’ll all see the sunshine in the end.

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poetry

Shakespeare’s Modern Problem

To text or not to text

A statement determining self-respect

This is a prerequisite to the new and direct

Message that he sent

Or lack thereof

Maybe the relationship was already spent

Maybe he just came and went

You sit waiting and wishing for what?

For the sunny beam

That you only saw in a midsummer night’s dream

It’s better to think he’s just another puck

Taking all your good luck

You fancy yourself a Juliet while he stands as your Romeo

A lamentable tragedy about youth and romance though

It still had a nice ring to it

And a comfortable place to sit

You could challenge him to a battle of wit

But you know that he is unarmed

Otherwise, why cause so much harm

Only a periwig-pattered fool could be blind to your alarm

Yet, he’s still your heart’s charm

Tearing your delicate and dainty desires to torn tatters

While reciting insults trippingly on his tongue

It isn’t the victim you need to play

You aren’t Cleopatra or Caesar today

Teenage foolishness won’t go away

Put you know it doesn’t have to stay

Be a Hippolyta, or Catherine, or Cordelia please

Don’t let him take you down to your knees

Be above his strife and pettiness and spite

Prove to the world that you can fight

It won’t be easy and it won’t be fun

But when it’s all said and done

When the play has finished its run

When the actors take a final bow to the sun

Then you’ll know you are the real champion

***

Technology has made us more connected than ever, yet we also became more isolated. In a face-to-face conversation, it’s easier to make both people speak and engage. However, texting has become a dangerous edition to new conversation. All it takes is one unread message to completely cut off a conversation. Despite globalization, problems of toxic relationships and unrequited love have existed for eons. Many people feel they carry conversations and connections while the other remains uninterested. It’s difficult to break off a relationship, especially when you can’t forget the good memories, but your well-being is always more important than whatever cheap excuse the other can make.

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poetry

You and I

You and I are pieces of glass

Made from colors and sands that surpass

The normal square that a cube usually makes

Because we take on our own, jagged shapes

When I think of us, I think of the ocean

Of dreams and laughter in motion

Of toes in the sand and my head in the clouds

Or of closing curtains and dark denim shrouds

If we were vases, I’d be small and you’d be tall

Stretching shadows far off the wall

Yet never shining that much at all

I’d be blue, and you’d be gold

With some black veins that made you look old

“Antique” is the name given

The name you live in

It’s the tide you sit in

When the ocean’s coming back from its first wave

Your black veins would show a darker inside

How you’re afraid and hide yet try to coincide

With this difficult existent

Please

I’m at your side

Sometimes there’ll be days when you stand

Smile like a jaunty marching band

Playing your song across the sand

Yet refusing to let the heat be fanned

Please

Just take my hand

The world if full of people who cheat and lie

People smiling and simpering with soft sly shines

Slipping through soles of silk

Sipping on sumptuous secrets and snakes

The loft of my shop

However

Is never at stake

So we slide into our comfortable silence

Keep the quiet

Hide inside it

Just you and I

Toes in the sand

No more marching band

But still

Please

Just take my hand

***

There is nothing more frustrating than trying to help someone who refuses to believe they can be fixed. People build connections and bonds over shared memories and secrets, from actions we both remember and don’t. Every relationship comes with tears, laughter, and love. A friend of mine inspired this poem, and he’s been a constant muse for a while. Some of the greatest inspiration comes out of relationships, whether we write in sadness or joy.

Categories
poetry

A Romantic’s Apology and Introduction

I’m sorry if I romanticize you

If your skin is made of paper and words

If your eyes are gold and you talk to birds

My glasses frame my face in a rose-colored hue

I’m sorry that you can’t see my view

My world is made up of magic

It’s a tactic to distract from the fact it

Isn’t made up of flowers

How many countless hours have I spent wondering why not

How many days I’ve shed tears over my rotten luck

That my skin wasn’t made of paper too

But the glasses are held onto my face by faith and glue

That you are just like me

Because you

Aren’t made of paper too

As my expectations fly and disaster begins to rise

I romanticize the scenario to the point where I criticize

Everything that doesn’t fit in my eyes

I start to swim in eternal lies

Look in mirrors that distort my true size

For what is smaller than a mouse yet larger than a giant?

Riddles and riddles that make me less compliant

I’ll try and stay silent

Not bother you with my defiant view of reality

Because I think we were all meant to be

More than what we see

Or how we feel

So I’m sorry if I romanticize you

My standards grow tall

My world turns small

But I still think it’s a wonderful view

***

People use different creative outlets to express themselves and their talents. One of the first things my readers should know about me is that I use poetry to express my emotions. And before that, I am extremely emotional. Romanticism has been around for centuries, and it’s an idea we each carry with a different perspective. I have always found myself to be a romantic person, yet my rose-colored glasses have often led me to create false visions and high expectations. While romanticism seems fantastical and wondrous next to the cold, calculated conformity of society, there is an immaturity and hubris that comes with it. Learn to apologize for pain you bring, but never doubt how you see the world.