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Then you mix in
all the memories you can find
in your mind and you kind of
knead them because you need them
to create the texture of life,
then you take a knife
and chop chunks of hate
and don't hesitate
to be generous with it
as long as you offset it with
sufficient slices of love.
Take all of the above
and wrap it up in your soul
Drop in a few tears
for all the years of struggle
Smuggle in a pinch of sex
Next, confine it in rhyme
And let it sit overnight
in the morning
you'll behold the sight
Of yourself
Laid out right there
In the ink.
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This is a poem I wrote a long time ago. Looking back at it now, I see it as being kind of crude, unrefined and a little bit full of cliché, but I like it. If a cliché is right, it's right. I usually leave my old poems alone because I feel like they're a bit like a picture of how I was at that time. They are a blot of ink on a page created and interpreted by me at a point in time. Now that I'm older and more experienced, I may interpret that blot differently, but it is still the same ink and the same piece of me that I left on the page so long ago.
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I like it! And I also love what you say about them being an "ink blot." I once lost a whole folder of poems I wrote when I was an emo college girl. I remember them as being juvenile and filled with cliche angst, but they were me at that time.
I get it and I'm glad you have these snapshots of your life :)
Thank you! Speaking of cliche, when I typed that blurb on the bottom, that song 'Photograph' by Nickleback crept in my head...and now it's stuck there. FML.
Hahahaha! I hate that :D
Good work I like your style. Thank you for sharing. Following
Thank you, and welcome to Steemit. I am following you as well.
Cool words indeed. @moeknows
Thank you, @krazypoet. I appreciate the feedback and the upvote.
Steemusa....awesome tag!
LOL, thank you. Murica!