This is about loved ones but love over all. It’s about life, lessons, growing and self-realization. Read “The Bare Essentials” for it is a much later follow up.
Poetry / A letter to myself.
Become dead in your dreadful soul!
Is there nothing better than wallowing in chaotic sorrow?
Years and years, absent of life, absent of light,
absent-minded of your blessings you so longed to cherish.
Passing by is the time to fly, spread your feathered limbs,
and take flight.
Not too high, but with other birds you may soar,
fly now or never more.
Make it known that you are distinct,
in this dark world of complacency.
Or just retreat, return to your pity and try to sleep.
In the alleys of your mind,
where thought dragons keep you from peace.
YOU! The extremist, take hold in your blind quest,
full of naïve ideas and transparent reality,
enter the realm of faith, believe in your tranquility.
Or become dreadful in your dead soul.
Is there nothing worse than the extremity of love?
What is love? It must be an experience!
Years and years, absent of love, absence of being loved.
Only absent-minded of the attempts to be loved.
Opportunity awaits you, a leap of faith, open the door,
or sulk forever more.
It is known that you are full of sorrow.
Leave it today and return with your head tomorrow.
Or just retreat, with only hopes to sleep,
for you went nowhere and found no peace.
You! The explorer, search the alleys and the skies,
do not grow weary as you encounter demons and lies.
Or you shall collapse and lie still, left only with thoughts,
of the visions, loves and dreams you never caught.
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i am conflicted with this poem. on one hand, it asks some good questions about love and life and, to a deeper extent, purpose, but it never fully connects the dots for me. the poem mentions “dreadful souls” and “wallowing in chaotic sorrow”, but never really does anything with those images to suggest that they really mean anything and so the ominous tone suffers and becomes less ominous as a result. i think this might be because the poet has not become vulnerable enough to fully explore what those images and concepts mean. it’s hard for the reader to connect and empathize with a poet’s emotions when the poet is himself (or herself) is still an observer. there are a lot of good images and language here that must be developed for this poem to truly succeed as much as i feel the poet wants it to. for example: “is there nothing worse than the extremity of love?/What is love? It must be an experience!” there is so much that can be opened up in this line, but because the poet doesn’t go anywhere with it the reader is also forced to simply move on because there is little to develop. and finally, punctuation at the end of every line proves to be very cumbersome because it becomes an unnecessary hurdle to the end of just about every line, which disrupts the flow and rhythm of the poem. with revisions, this poem could definitely become effective.
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The emotion in this is very compelling and kept me reading the entire way through. The pain of not being loved is evident and contrasts very well with what I assume to be hope for a new romance written in the second half. You actually describe the entire process of finding a mate after losing the first in a very humorous way.
I love your choice of and use of diction, such as ‘thought dragons’ which I assume you use to imply that romance can be fanciful (that is, if you are not saying that romance IS a fantasy).
The reason this poem actually appealled to me so much is that I could identify with the emotions of having had someone special and lost them, then hoping for someone else to come along. The perpetual state of awareness tires you, just like you describe it. This is a very honest, almost harsh piece, but I think that the edge it has is needed.
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