(I wrote this poem for a wonderful friend back in March last year, and I never got the chance to share it with him. Today I wanted to share it with you after I revisited it. I'm not a poet, but I thought I wanted to share with you the way I feel about the eternal subject of love... I hope you like it. DWR)
"Only Without Darkness Can We See Light"
Only without sight can we hear the lark sing at dawn,
or the watch the cuckoo find a friendly host for rearing its offspring,
or understand two swans, soulmates, dancing by the lake to show their eternal love,
Their love that extended beyond Venus' gaze during the cool summers.
Only without warmth can we appreciate the long lazy afternoons
spent lazily in the parks feeding our lovers sweet stawberries,
and drinking spicy champaigne as we watch small children bath in the cool pools.
Their parents watching over with love that cannot be unbridled.
Only without enlightenment can we appreciate that time is abstract.
Time with names like "O'clock" "Seconds" or "Days" bear no relevance, for the sun is shining and providing humanity with all the energy for suvival,
For you, for me, and for all our progeny.
Only without pain can we apprecate the feeling of release;
Pain in our heart, pain in our bowels, but wherever the pain,
Without experiencing such at least once in one's live,
We will live a life of regret and sorrow, for
Only without darkness can we see light.
Close your eyes and reminesce of the days that you were torn, tears streaming from your eyes. That green boulder of jealousy and anger growing each and every day inside of you that which you cannot control.
But remember also that without darkness there will be no light;
and without light, there will be no shadow to remind you of the pain.
Only when we heal from our wounds that we can look back,
Smile, and remember that only without darkness, can we see light.
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I didn't write this in a depressive state; I wrote it when I was starting to feel optimistic and came to realise that waking up every morning, looking up at the ceiling I no longer prayed to God, or the universal energy in my case, why they had not grantd my wishes, and let me die in peace.
Today, I wake up, open my eyes and check that I'm still alive, because I no longer have a death wish. I want to live - shitty life or not, but the point is that I want to live, because I know what lurks in the darkness.
I want to thank my dear friend, O, for inspiring me to write this poem in the first place. Tnank you dear friend, for giving me hope.
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7 comments:
its shit
Thank you anonymous for your highly discriptive opinion on my little poem. I will keep a mental note that "its shit".
Umm... well, all I can add is for you to get off your PC and go out to see the real world, because that's where you see the *REAL* shit. My fluffy poem is minor compared to the crap going on outside your window, or perhaps even in your head.
Well thank you for spending your precious time to log in, read my poor quality poem - to the end - to post your two wordded comment. Sorry for having occupied so much of your precious time surfing blogs...
Jeez, I think you have given me the shortest and the most intellectually challenged comment in this entire blog to date! Congratulations!!
IT'S NOT SHIT !!!!
I LIKE YOUR BLOG !!!!!
SEE U ...
Opinions only matter if you let them. If it inspired you who gives a shit what others think
true. no need for me to rant like that. my appologies to all. :)
This makes me want to sleep with you, so it can not be shit! Perhaps I am feeling such a sentiment because you convey a child like quality akin to the innocence of love. Or perhaps I'm talking shit!!! This is the last thing I wrote on the subject:
Puck and Thea
Let the world spin now
As the world spun
When it was inhabited
By just two souls.
In light headed
Feather bedded
Harmony.
Sweet perspiration
Tender and slow
The after-glow,
Embers of a passion
Fuelled heart.
Sleep now
So our dreams entwine
As our lives never could.
Peacefully drifting
Together eternal.
The childlike laughter
Hand in hand.
Our running prints
Pressed in the sand.
Go tell the world
Of you and me.
And carve our name
On every tree!
In the tone of your poem, there will always be people out there thta will tell us our work is shit. Without them we cannot appreciate the good people and compliments that also come our way. I believe as a writer, if you manage to touch at least one person you've done your job as a writer. I was touched, and it made me think about how precious life is. Well written and excellent job. Keep writing and stiring those hearts. Best wishes and thanks for sharing your poem.
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