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. 🙂
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.
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.
“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
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.
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.
Brave and free
Are strong in unity.