Write Some Poetry
- Holly Leach
- Apr 20, 2020
- 1 min read
Poetry is one of the best ways top distill a complicated experience down to its essence. A professor of mine once told me that "a poem is prose that just found out it has 60 seconds to live."
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Partly the idea of it,
Sharp-starred vision of maternal care
Cuts --
-- rag of looming loss.
Predictions
But with wet conditions
tidal caveats
wombed carveouts
wounds and words
With darker moments –
-- shore of looming loss
No angel there when
stars are holes
the constellations fall.
Memory mars grief.
Beneath the Mask
Many vibrant colors and a beautiful smile
Mask a hideous face I can never present.
I don’t care if you’re curious. It’s way too vile.
Believe me when I say it’s nowhere near pleasant.
Like everyone else, you can’t see the face beneath.
You don’t understand the meaning of what you ask.
You’ll find nothing but bloody tears and shattered teeth.
Why do you want to see the face beneath the mask?
It seems I’ve caught you trying to peek through the cracks.
I hope you were satisfied to see nothing there.
The sight of my face would stop you dead in your tracks.
Oh, the things I wouldn’t do for a breath of fresh air.
Glance…
Stained Blade
Small drops leak out in a scarlet cascade.
Why am I so relieved from just my first?
Savor my essence on this silver blade.
Each stroke is another scar to be made.
I embrace the pain, prepared for the worst.
More drops leak out in a scarlet cascade.
Seeing results, I remain unafraid.
Your words mean nothing; I won’t be coerced.
Savor my essence on this shining blade.
Each stroke bears the might of a fusillade.
I struggle to contain a fierce outburst.
A streak pours out in a scarlet cascade.
I’ve created a pool too deep to wade.
Drowned in regret, I’m completely submersed.
Savor my essence on this wicked blade.
All…
Stare, by Tristan
Love - by Elle (presented to Writers Guild 3-2-21)
Have you ever been loved?
Have you ever been loved romantically?
Has anyone ever seen past your surface, looked underneath, and still wanted to be with you, near you?
I have not, but I haven’t loved anyone else either
I have fallen in love with the idea of love
Love is magnificent and cruel
She is the mistress who fertilizes the ground but also causes the plague
For all of the beauty in the world, all of it is matched by hurt in equal measure
But this is just my idea
Ideas are abstract and can not truly pin the concept, or the feeling down
I’m afraid that I’ll never translate…