Writing poetry

I write poetry, I've mentioned this before.  I have been writing since that moment when it dawned upon me that certain words put together form structures that sound lyrical.  I also learned, that by putting into the words the feelings I felt and I held onto that.  I must have been a decade old or so when I first started, I'd write to my family, put them in letters to my friends - those are the ways I continued to nurture this art.  Some years I'd write less than others, but anyways this is not about then.  I'd like to share with you what I did this morning.  It's roughly written, but that's what I want to show to you, my unpolished thoughts.

Here goes, it is quite long so I'll only be posting bits and pieces of it, the ellipses indicates the omitted parts.  I'll post the whole things once I've cleaned it up:

There comes a time

When you dust away the old for the novel

The old truths

In your back pocket

You sit upon them in deserted places

Where in dark alleys aged men greet you

They were never married

( ... )

And the wisdom you've picked up along the road

Cradled them in your arms

Like gathering leaves after autumn’s fall

You place them in between pages and close the book

For the next generation to find the golden promise

There comes a time

When everything you imagined important

Has slowly dissipated and dispersed into nothingness

You’re searching for it but your memory holds no recollection

( ... )

There comes a time

When you want to sweep across the horizons

And breathe in the goodness of the river’s mist

And to catch the fragrance of the rotten flowers in your throat

Where you speak of blossoming into whatever life purposed you to

You want to swing in the open air where rain travels

 And the winds dance their way to and fro

( ... )

You have taken the decision to cease the trite

And pursue the more urgent and the apt

You take scripts from the predecessor’s mistakes

And note them down to remind yourself –

And to push yourself relentlessly because you are capable

There comes a time

( ... )

 There comes a time

When your feet are sore and they are bruised

From worthless heartaches and meaningless lessons in love

You’re tired from being out of breath

Chasing him to assure you

That tomorrow he’ll come by again

To validate to you about a love that will sustain you

You’ve pushed through the pebbled roads

And dusty fields as he keeps moving ahead

You’ve chased him down and he still wouldn’t stand for you

You make lists out of excuses that excuses him of his mistreating you

Trying to convince everybody else that he’s not that bad a guy

Even though you’re tired of telling yourself the same silly lie

( ... )

the rock at your gate

Put there by a kid, innocent and explorative, destined to one day too

Reach the wisdom you’re at now

He will learn too that happiness cannot be planted in somebody else’s garden

That the seed is within and only he can nurture its potential

There will come a time ...

© Lucinda de Leeuw 2011