Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My kind of poetry

I use vers libre when I write poetry. It doesn't really rhyme and sometimes it doesn't make sense, but if you study my poetry really, really hard you will figure out what I mean. And sometimes you don't have to study it at all, the meaning is quite clear. But don't ask me what I mean because sometimes I don't even know, until I am done and have read it over and over. I write the first thing that comes to mind, and later I figure out why I used that particular word. Sometimes I start out knowing exactly what I want portrayed, but other times, like I said, I have no carefully thought out plan and everything sorta falls into place like a puzzle. Also my poems rarely have any timing; you have to make up your own. That being said, here is my newest poem, called Gravel:

Gravel

Gravel is hard, like shiny slivers or shards
Of glass. Or cat claws when the feline is scared
cause' the bag is stuck to its fur with static.
You tell somebody they are stupid, thats like
Gravel, it hurts, then everything has to be fixed
Since you just bruised and cut up and broke.
Gravel is rough so when you fall and hurt
It stings to the bones, like you had stones
Thrown at you. Gravel is loose or hard
You may become callouses and dark
Or maybe you will loosen up and let it slide
Pretend you don't care, but deep down inside
That gravel is rubbing you raw and tearing you up
Like vultures were ripping away every last part
After awhile, maybe, it could perhaps happen
Like oysters with a piece of grit or gravel
You slide out of your shell you aren't so bitter or tart
You find forgiveness and peace deep down
In you heart. And there you go, you found the pearl
You want to go tell this whole massive world
You found the One who could give you life
And He did. Forget all the hurt and the pain of the past
And the gravel thrown at you, because you have
Salvation and peace from Him. And that will last.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

even if this no timing it stil look good and sounded good. and even if you don't think so its a lot better than anything my brain could think up. I couldn't read part of it, missy was hitting me in the face with her tail as if I liked it.

Anonymous said...

you know, you could put missy down...

Anonymous said...

No I mean.... she jumped on the keyboard and thought I liked having me face brushed. right at the piont of which I was reading your poem.

Granny Kate said...

I can relate to this poem. I was a bit bullied as a preteen, and as a result, I loved spending time all by myself. I especially loved climbing way up the tallest trees where no gravel could reach me and I could feel free.

I didn't know "the One who could give you life" then.

Anonymous said...

When I was young(er) I was made fun all the time and didn't know how to shrug it off. I would go hide somewhere and hoped someone would see me and feel sorry for me, than after no one ever saw me due to to good at hiding I would make fun of my self for being such baby, get up and leave. I still make fun of myself some times for not having enough endurance(bad breathing when I run)I would get bad head aches just from running.

Granny Kate said...

I never wanted to be noticed. People never felt sorry for me. I usually got one of two lectures: either "Get tough" or "You have to be a friend to have friends." Right. I didn't know how to be a friend, so I got tough--and became something of a bully myself.