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Handful of words
Handful of words
Daunting task of whittling experiences into words,
Competing with boundless creativity of young blood striking chords.
Forgive this skeptical fool, my spirit wanders wild
I confess to be an imbecile with the heart of a child
Attempting to gradually transcend tragedy into comedy,
Where villains steal the glory and heroes are rendered giddy.
I intend to explore realms where most things are kind
And re-instill that fickle love can broaden a narrow mind
Whilst painting painful pictures of heart-ache fused with sorrow
Pouring out the gargantuan grief of bleeding hearts I borrow
In my subtle ambition of creating silent verses that elicit tears
As with a handful of words I whisper my deepest fears.
Profound Wisdom from a wee little girl..... To be candid
Profound Wisdom from a wee little girl..... To be candid ,I stumbled onto your profile a short while ago.I wish you all the best in all your endeavours.Be Happy.
©bishu
I enjoyed this totally. You
I enjoyed this totally. You explain here what makes good poetry. The unspoken that touches depths where the reader refuses to go within them...the parts they are in denial of. Picasso's pieces of abstract art touch people because he exposed his craziest perceptions in them, whereby helping others to see the very same craziness was within them, creating a unity on an issue that is scorned, judged, and thought to be "abnormal".
You said it with such flair. Loved it.
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...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
subtle ambition and silent versei
What I truly enjoy about your rhymed work is that in front of those rhymes are solide concepts for contempation, impeccable grammar, and images that are enviable - most enjoyable read child morphed poet ~A~
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