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Poetry Journal
A small notebook that I got from a bookstore.
On the cover a girl in a victorian dress sits in a field.
And ponders away at her thoughts.
Similar to what I do when a subject comes into view.
Thoughts lace together inside of my mind.
And my pen catches them by releasing them on to the page.
Observations of the world around me & the people I see.
Thoughts that I need to catch but am I not ready to share with the world.
So they will stay locked away inside of this notebook.
Until a later date, when I am ready to share these words...
Under an anonymous name.
On an anonymous site.
So people may read it.
And tell me what they think.
About what I see, hear, taste & feel.
Pages get ripped out and words get scribbled out of text.
All apart of being an artist.
Inside my little backpack that I use as a purse.
Keeping a book to read.
And a book to write inside near me at all times.
For the mind needs to be worked all of the time.
Reading works of ficiton.
Then writing down the feelings that one feels walking throughout one's own life.
Inside the suit of one's own skin.
Capturing the essence of human life in words that have never been written before.
Or at least, not in the same context.
Not int the same way.
Poetry journal, lend me your hand.
And together we shall write this world right.
As long as people's ears, they shall lend.
And we shall win a kingdom with words.
For a pen shall always be mightier than a sword.
On the cover a girl in a victorian dress sits in a field.
And ponders away at her thoughts.
Similar to what I do when a subject comes into view.
Thoughts lace together inside of my mind.
And my pen catches them by releasing them on to the page.
Observations of the world around me & the people I see.
Thoughts that I need to catch but am I not ready to share with the world.
So they will stay locked away inside of this notebook.
Until a later date, when I am ready to share these words...
Under an anonymous name.
On an anonymous site.
So people may read it.
And tell me what they think.
About what I see, hear, taste & feel.
Pages get ripped out and words get scribbled out of text.
All apart of being an artist.
Inside my little backpack that I use as a purse.
Keeping a book to read.
And a book to write inside near me at all times.
For the mind needs to be worked all of the time.
Reading works of ficiton.
Then writing down the feelings that one feels walking throughout one's own life.
Inside the suit of one's own skin.
Capturing the essence of human life in words that have never been written before.
Or at least, not in the same context.
Not int the same way.
Poetry journal, lend me your hand.
And together we shall write this world right.
As long as people's ears, they shall lend.
And we shall win a kingdom with words.
For a pen shall always be mightier than a sword.
Published 16th May 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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17th May 2012 00:26am
"Poetry journal, lend me your hand.
And together we shall write this world right.
As long as people's ears, they shall lend.
And we shall win a kingdom with words.
For a pen shall always be mightier than a sword"
That is genius :)
And together we shall write this world right.
As long as people's ears, they shall lend.
And we shall win a kingdom with words.
For a pen shall always be mightier than a sword"
That is genius :)
