I don’t know how many of you know about Wattpad. Basically it’s a website or app where you can publish your writing. There are lots of users and lots of good stories.
One of the nice things about Wattpad is that you can publish stories and / or books in chapters instead of all at once.I am currently working on a story and a book of poetry.
Here is the link to my profile. Please take a look and share. If you are a Wattpad user please vote and also let me know bout your works so I can check them out . Thanks.
Like a lot of writers I keep notebooks (yes more than one ) that I write random things in. Thoughts, scraps of stories, quotes that like, and other things. Sometimes I like to see how many words I can rhyme.
My point (there is one) is that I keep notebooks that are filled with the beginnings of the creative process. This poem came from one of those scraps.
After I read the four little lines thatI had written months ago, I rewrote it and expanded on it . And then I did it again. Eventually what came out was this poem.
A CAGED BIRD
A caged bird only knows
The limits that are imposed.
It knows nothing of the limitless outside.
To everyone outside,
It seems safe and secure.
But the bird knows there’s more.
Pushing it’s beak against the iron bars,
Trying to break through.
Waiting to unleash it’s potential.
The bird waits and waits
With patience that can only come from nature.
Patience, faith, and trust.
It knows in it’s heart that one day it will be free
And then it will spread it’s wings.
So it prepares for that day.
Always prepared, always hoping.
Prepared for today.
Prepared for every moment.
For that is the only moment we all have.
This is a poem I wrote for an online class I am taking. I have learned a lot from the class and I feel like this poem shows how I am growing as a poet. Please take a moment to read and comment.
A baseball and shards of glass lay on the just installed carpet.
Becky stands over them like a queen inspecting her guard.
Was this deliberate, she wonders.
She has seen the neighbors huddled together, talking and pointing to their house.
Their house ; the two words stopped her thoughts as if they had brakes on them.
Mine and hers; Hers and mine.
Two women married to each other
Still caused people to whisper behind their hands.
Becky was used to that, used to people talking over their coffee about her.
She had come to expect it , maybe even depend on it.
And, like a poison, it infects and hurts the young quickly.
Negativity sticks with you when you’re young.
Sticks with you enough to throw a ball through a window.
A few months ago a friend sent me a poem. It was something that I needed at that moment. A push to get me out of the state of mind that I was in at the time. She ended up putting it on her blog and you can read it here.
The poem was written by Charlie Chaplin on his 70th birthday and it talks about different things. But the part that is most important to me is the part about self love. I have a hard time loving myself sometimes. Most of the time actually. But I can feel a shift in my attitudes about myself and I can say that I have days that I can honestly say I love myself.
Anyway, the Chaplin poem inspired me to write the following poem. It’s about a few realizations I’ve had over the last few months and how I’m starting to feel about myself.
Self Love Is …
Self love is paying attention to yourself when you need it.
Self love is standing in your authentic truth.
Self love is total acceptance of you.
Self love is not wishing you were something or someone else.
Self love is putting that second candy bar down.
Self love is getting up everyday with a grateful heart.
Self love is not letting other people tell you what is right for you.
Self love is not giving away your own power.
Self love is sometimes telling the world to fuck off.
Self love is full of forgiveness for everyone and especially yourself.
Self love is hard.
Self love is from the heart not the head.
Self love is compassion. a poem
This is an old poem that I found stuck in between pages of an uncompleted story. I’m not even sure how old it is. A couple of years at least.
It’s amazing how we can write something, tuck it away somewhere, and find it later on like a piece of buried treasure. Then when we read it, it feels like something that came from a totally different person. That’s how I feel about this poem.
I definitely remember feeling this way. I’ve felt like that for most of my life. But my perspective on things are different now and reading this I feel tremendous sympathy for the person I was. Not only for the things other people put me through but for what I put myself through.
So much anger.
No one knows
How it fills me up
And never lets go.
I can’t deflect it away.
I can’t shield it.
It encompasses all of me.
Engulfs all of me
In bitterness and cold.
They are anger’s friends;
Never far from anger’s side.
Never far from my heart.
So this is my newest poem. It’s very me in the sense that I think a lot and worry a lot. Sometimes I am great at giving advice but horrible at taking my own advice. And then there are times I have to remind myself to stop ,breathe, relax, and let the Universe provide.
I have to remind myself that I am human and humans have feelings. And that’s okay . It’s okay to have worries but it’s not okay to let them take over your mind.
Anyway, that’s a little bit of background about where this poem from and about the part of me that ,hopefully, shines through in it.
Continue reading The Heart Knows
So this is another poem. Poetry is one of the first ways I used to express myself through writing. It was and still is , my favorite. While I love to write in general, I always felt at home with poetry. Especially free verse. You can say what you need or want to say quickly or you can draw it out . You can be plain as day or turn everything into a metaphor. Either way, someone, somewhere will probably be able to relate to any poem you write as long as it is honest. If you start trying to fool people,well let’s just say , it shows.
That being said , this poem and the last couple I have posted , are raw for me. Some of you already know I have had some personal problems lately and, true to who I am , they are all coming out in poems. This one is called Energy. It’s somewhat sad, somewhat positive, and, for me personally, part prayer. I hope you enjoy. Please share if you like it and , if you get a chance , visit me on Faccebook , http://www.facebook.com/mynovelstory.
Everyday there’s a new sunrise.
And everyday I get up again ; to try and be the best me I can be.
As of late, it’s been hard; I have to tell my brain to move my body.
To move each limb; move each muscle ; contract, expand ; move up , move down.
Nothing wants to move of it’s own accord; they want to stay under the sheets.
Let my brain sleep ; let my body rest; let my heart heal.
Let my mind forget all the thoughts in there; let the neurons reconnect themselves differently.
Let my mind leave Hell and reform in Heaven.
Let me live in the moment I’m in now; erase pain and sorrow.
Earth and God give me your energy; pour it through me.
Blaze fire from my head to my heart to the soles of my feet.
Energy flowing with the grace of water and also the power of lava.
Help it change me; clean me,make me strong in it.
Let me lose myself in energy; let me lose my mind.
The last couple of weeks have not been very good for me. I don’t really go into it much on social media but , the fact of the matter is I have a lot of emotional problems that have plagued me since I was young. Part of those problems is a feeling I have that everyone is going to leave me. That I am not worth anyone’s time and why should anyone want to hang around with me. In short, serious abandonment issues
Because of that, I unintentionally pushed someone away from me that I never wanted to . Someone who meant a lot to me . Anyway this is the poem that emerged from my last two weeks of putting myself through hell.
I don’t understand
But, it’s God’s plan.
I have to trust
That my pain will go away
And make sense someday.
Then I won’t remember what I was upset about.
It will be a dream from a long time ago
And all this will not mean a thing,
I trust you Lord
And I know this will pass.
With your help,
I always get back up after I’ve been knocked down.
To the world and the haters in it,
You can try to kill me, but i will always rise.