Two New Poems

Here's two new poems, I wrote the first on Monday and the second yesterday.

Singing--
is opening the mouth and letting
everything out
thoughts, feelings,
unexplainable joys
untellable sorrows
you can hear it all in the notes
the relief
to be getting away from life
the bittersweetness of life
as you sing your heart out
you want to shar it with all the world
so you work, and work
and sometimes lose the reason for singing
but it always comes back
on a gray day when you sing out of havit
and find new meanings in the words
more beauty in the song
than you've ever heard before.
And you stop and listen
to the raw delight
the aching loneliness
and you forget about that stubborn note
the difficulty over your break
you forget everything except the need
to give your heart a voice
and you sing
like never before.


Night falls
I stare at the object draped in shadows
thatI've seen so mant times before
inanimate
it speaks of silence and perseverence
its stood as the years have washed over it
jostled from place to place
always persistent in it's silence,
in it's peace.
As the world whirls around--
comings and goings
fights and laughter
hugs and tears and anger and joy--
when the world stops spinning
it stands here in the darkness
waiting for me to fall asleep
so it can sing it's song
of silence.

Kelia

I know, I know

But it's only been three weeks! That is a long time, but it doesn't feel that long for me because I've only written three poems. Oh well.

I just wrote this poem, I like it but somehow I don't think it flows right...?

Dreams are funny things
they fly in and out
full of imressions,
colors,
sounds,
sometimes bringing
story ideas with them
that flourish and blossom
while you're sleeping
filling the night with
anticipation,
potential,
beginnings.
You breath fast when you wake
and stare into the dark--
remembering the dream
that painted your mind
with such possibilities.
Will it shrivel when
the morning light hits it,
or will it strengthen and hold?
The question doesn't
even cross your mind
as there, in the dark,
a world unfurls before you.
This night has brought a gift-
fragile - like and egg--
it will either break or hatch.
For now you hold it close
dreaming
of what's inside.

Aaaaaand a very silly one I wrote last week. I was not in the mood to write a poem.

What I Would Say

If I Kept a Journal

It's 4 aclock
it's raining out
if my handwriting's messy
it's because my eyes are closed
I'm trying to go to sleep
it's not working
but try I will
while the rain patters,
splatters down
and time ticks away
into oblivion.
(That was rather eloquent,
don't you think?)

Kelia