I would not forsake my love to escape the pain of death.
I don't want to learn to live without you in my life.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
what to do when the full moon hides above? how best to scratch and prowl, for I still love the night? I dream, I dream. freedom roams inside my heart: outside, responsibility + fear. tonight, this night, under the cover of clouds, who knows? where other ventures fail -- perhaps, tonight?
I have been writing poetry since I was about ten years old. Much like Miss Dickenson, I have been hoarding my works -- not out of malice or fear -- but simply because there seems to be few uses for poetry in our society.
Poetry, though, really transcends more prosaic work in the way that a single image can transcend a movie. A poem can be easy to remember, to quote or describe -- while expression of a larger prose piece may be difficult when re-creating the full energy of the original.
In the commentary, I will share my stories about the poems. Please feel free to include your own. I hope you find the reading of these poems as inspiring as I found the writing of them to be.