Some thoughts on writing poetry…

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On 17th of May, 2015, I wrote my first post on this blog. Which means it’s now more than a year old! I didn’t write anything in celebration of this, but I though it’s a nice occasion to share some thoughts on something I didn’t think would be a part of this blog – poetry.

A few months ago, I posted my first attempt at writing poetry. It was more of an impulsive fit of inspiration than a real poem. I never thought I would post poetry on this blog, even after that first poem. I alyaws considered myself to be a prose writer, even though I did, occasionally, write poetry – or attempted to write it.

In my teenage years it was a vent for all the emotions that I kept inside, a way to say what I feel and what I’m going through, without actually writing a diary (which I tried several times but always got bored with it.) I liked writing this kind of personal poetry. And now, I really started to enjoy it once again, but maybe in a different way.

Now, when I write poetry, I often find myself writing from an imagined point of view, as if a fictional character is behind the written words. It does, of course, have bits of myself in it as well, and some of my poems express some of my thoughts and observations. But sometimes, it’s in a certain way similar to writing fiction. I feel the emotions of my characters, just as I feel the emotions of my lyrical subjects. Is that the influence of being more focused on writing fiction? I’m not sure. I guess I like imagining characters and their stories far too much. XD

In any case, I don’t know if my poems are any good, but I love writing them and I will definitely write more. Experimentation with all forms and topics was the idea behind this blog anyway, and I’m happy it has taken me this far. 🙂

Multitude

I am huge,
A multitude of worlds!

I decide, I know,
I wonder, I learn,
I see others who wonder, too,
And they are plentiful.
I see the sky and the stars,
I see the universe,
And a glimpse of it once again,
In the other people’s eyes.
And I don’t understand,
I cannot decide,
I don’t know.

I am small,
Invisible…

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Let’s Be Evil Together

Let’s be evil together!
Let’s bare our pointed teeth
And sharpen our claws.

In moonlight we would walk
And hide from the Sun
Which shines, pierces and burns
Like it owns us all.

Hunters we would be
And never the pray,
Care not about the world
Just destroy and scare.

Merciful never
To those who obey,
We shall bury constructs
Made by fellow men.

Run away with me!
Let’s be evil together,
Let’s be violent –
Be free.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

This night…

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

This night, in my lonely room, underneath the pale candlelight, I start to write a letter.

The window offers me nothing to see. There are no stars in the sky, no moonlight to caress the streets, only the dark sky of clouds; invisible clouds, merged with the neverending darkness. Until this night, I spoke and I spoke, but there was no response. It is time, I feel, to write it all down. Ink is heavy and black, not as fleeting as the spoken words. Voice is made of feathers, it flutters away, disappears in the vast void of the universe. Voice is easily smothered by noise; howls of wind, tapping of raindrops. Rain and wind sound softer than what I have to say, there is false comfort in the forces of nature.

It starts to rain now, as I write, to the one who will care to read. To a friend who is dear and kind, understanding. To someone who doesn’t exist.

Scholarly Conclusion

The children in my school, my students, learn the figures of speech and repeat them each time they learn another poem. So, during class, my mind came up with this. 


I’m a scholar
And I was taught to grasp
The figures in your speech.

I tremble at the hyperboles
Used just to persuade,
I taste the sweet epithets
Uttered to impress.

Litotes you use just right
To shrink me in size.
You paint in oxymorons
Deliberately, to confuse.

Synesthesia in your voice
Sounds like a warm breeze.
Cruel voice, the softest murmur
Onomatopoeic and personified.

But I’m a scholar and I know
That words are everything,
But also nothing,
Nothing at all.

Sunset Goodbye

Blick auf Dresden bei Sonnenuntergang
Carl Gustav Carus (1789-1869)

Look far away.
Stay silent.
Look and breathe in
The playful dance of colours.

Soon they’ll disappear,
Erased as our own selves.
The night is coming closer
And with it brings our sorrow.

Night is dark and lonely
And loneliness hurts deep
Goodbye is just one word
But it means everything.

Night might not have colours,
But it will bring you stars,
It will offer moonlight
Beauty of another kind.


 I haven’t been posting much lately, I know, I’ve been quite busy… But I’m here, reading you, and planning what to post next. 🙂

Anyway, I really like this painting and I felt inspired, so I wrote this little poem for it. 

 

Human

Once upon a time,
A human rose to walk the Earth,
But didn’t know what it was.

Answers came without an invite:
Human was told it was a She,
And there were others who were He.

So human learned to be a She.
And She was told how to play,
What to enjoy and what to desire.

Then they spoke of the colour of the skin,
Power and money, jobs, borders, sex.
Humans are just animals, people are categories.

She was told what to do,
Because that was the way to learn,
And She acted accordingly.

Then, one day, lightning struck,
Through Her body which now felt strange
Made Her conscious of Her skin.

The spark of wisdom, of being aware,
Played tricks on Her memory.
She remembered her life as a human vividly.

Between the instinct and the learned
She didn’t know what was the truth.
Between it all, who was She?

Lies, lies, all they said!
We are rules, but we are freedom,
We are both but we are neither.

Quote for Thought: Life goes on

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“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”

Robert Frost

Life can’t really be explained and it has no rules, even when certain magazines claim there are. It is as diverse as the people living it. But we all know one thing for sure – life can be hard. It doesn’t ask for our opinion, it just goes on, whether you had the time and strength to keep up or not. You will get sad, disappointed, let down, insecure, anxious, stressed, and hurt. But there will be times you’ll simply feel good about yourself. You will look back on your past sorrow and feel no pain at all.

I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not even trying to be inspirational. If you’re sad, be sad. Cry. Hit your pillow. And I admit that sometimes there will be things in your life that you will never be able to remember without evoking some old feelings. Time doesn’t always heal all of our wounds, but it teaches us to live with them. Then, you will remember something, or someone, and still feel a little bit of that past hurt. But you will also know that you have survived it. You will say to yourself: “I feel much better now.” You will know: “My life is better today.” And it will give you strength to go on.

Birds, Pigeons and Italy

Siena

I took this photo quite a few years ago, in Siena, Italy. Italy is a great country to visit, and it’s culturally very similar to the coastal Croatia where I live, especially when it comes to great food. 😉 Anyway, when I go on a trip, I like to capture some simple little moments like this one, besides taking pictures of all the “important stuff”. This photo of a pigeon drinking from the fountain feels so lively to me, it’s cute and a little funny. So, I wanted to share it with you. I’ll follow it with a little poem inspired by birds.

Wings flutter
Brave and free
Fragile feathers
Are strong in unity.