You Me and Poetry Scholarship
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Excavate my soul Find Words trapped within my flesh They are all I have.
I am a tsunami. The water waxes and wanes at my will, Captivating and crucifying the shoreline. You are a wildfire. Endowed with incalculable miles, Extinguished by the hands of others.
Sometimes I sit at my window and stare at the world beyond, wondering how we will remember each moment as time flies. I ask, I dream, I ponder, but silence is the only response.
My mindset is a thunderstorm. In the darkness I am lost and blinded by a storm cloud. There is, however, some hope for this natural disaster.
Poetry is being able to step out of the spotlight you involuntarily occupy 24/7. It's what allows a 6'4", 315 pound young man be himself instead of what everyone expects him to be.
It seems strange, doesn't it, To write about writing, But I would believe it to be even more strange if no one ever did. To me, writing seems to be much more than just, Puting silly words onto a platform,
Letters spin Inside my mind Jumbled words Jumbled lives Questions wrap
I write because all the twisted, dark thoughts don't go away I write because nightmares still show up during the day I write because my mouth doesn't want to budge I write because paper doesn't ever judge
I try to numb the pain. The pain of everything and of nothing. The pain that I cannot put into words And the pain I try so hard to control The pain that somehow always seems to find its way out
I am 9 and discovering poetry For the first time. "Hope is a thing with feathers," I read And imagine the words tripping off the page, plummeting, A baby bird pushed from the nest. The ground rises up to meet them
When I'm told how deoxygenated blood Goes in through one side of our heartAnd out the other, carrying life through our veins and capillaries and to our organs
I was taught When I was young That to be a poet You didn't have to be a poet You could be a student, A teacher, A reader, Or a baller. Anyone could be a poet
Why did I become a poet you ask? Well it was not a simple task Poems have the power to create The power to modivate The power to help people aspire The power to take emotions a step higher
Not Prose. A story, with elements it requires no time out in the elements. The literary techniques used are hard to detect, they often leave one feeling dazed and confused.
I am not a poet I am just poetic, every scribbled letter from an aching hand, every smudge of blue ink on a crinkled page is remembrance, experiences of metrical saddness and symbolism of my existence