Topic: Muffled
mig25's photo
Thu 07/07/22 07:05 PM
Muffled

Tears articulated
the questions
that poured from my soul
as the depth of emptiness
was encased
within the picture
the mirror painted

The art of sorrow
abstract
like the memories I've tried to forget
doesn't hurt
as much as the memories
I cannot forget

I try silence
as if I have nothing to say
yet the screams
within my heart
tells the story of just how much
this has left me speechless

Dying
too often
is like the whispers
that are loud enough to hear
yet too muffled
to really understand
and only time
can answer the questions
that pour from my soul

no photo
Thu 07/07/22 09:01 PM
The Trouble with Poetry: A Poem of Explanation
Billy Collins

The trouble with poetry, I realized
as I walked along a beach one night --
cold Florida sand under my bare feet,
a show of stars in the sky --

the trouble with poetry is
that it encourages the writing of more poetry,
more guppies crowding the fish tank,
more baby rabbits
hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.

And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world,

and there is nothing left to do
but quietly close our notebooks
and sit with our hands folded on our desks.

Poetry fills me with joy
and I rise like a feather in the wind.
Poetry fills me with sorrow
and I sink like a chain flung from a bridge.

But mostly poetry fills me
with the urge to write poetry,
to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame
to appear at the tip of my pencil.

And along with that, the longing to steal,
to break into the poems of others
with a flashlight and a ski mask.

And what an unmerry band of thieves we are,
cut-purses, common shoplifters,
I thought to myself
as a cold wave swirled around my feet
and the lighthouse moved its megaphone over the sea,
which is an image I stole directly
from Lawrence Ferlinghetti --
to be perfectly honest for a moment --

the bicycling poet of San Francisco
whose little amusement park of a book
I carried in a side pocket of my uniform
up and down the treacherous halls of high school.

From The Trouble with Poetry and Other Poems, 2007

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waving bigsmile

JulieABush's photo
Fri 07/08/22 12:42 AM
Nice poems:thumbsup: :wink: .