Young Poet

November 23, 2010
By Chelsea1992 PLATINUM, Bradenton, Florida
Chelsea1992 PLATINUM, Bradenton, Florida
21 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all."- Emily Dickinson


Not much substance
Is Held within
This young
Four chambered heart
But with the keenest
Eye for detail
I speculate
How this muse
Got it’s start
How a pastime
Of pain
Was granted the name
Poetry

I sit at a keyboard
And bleed
A fleeting
Essence
Is freed
The hobby
Is a long shot
Indeed
Promising
That I may never
Succeed
A name
That’s too modest
For fame
Poet

The rhythmic
Hum of the soul
Solitude
Takes it’s toll
Mind meets spirit
In silence
I hear it
The artist
Of madness
The genius
Of plight
The medium
Of wisdom
The magic
Of metaphor
Poetry

I feel fulfilled
Embraced by
The flight
So why am I asked
If I feel alright
As I build
A kingdom of script
My mind
Will Endlessly drift
Pick up
Where I left off
I walk the path
Of words
Submerged
In the light
Of literacy
Flowing
To the rhythm
Of eternity
Call me poet
Call me insanity


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This article has 2 comments.


on Dec. 26 2010 at 9:52 pm
SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
34 articles 2 photos 658 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness too. That was writing."
--Markus Zusak, "The Book Thief"

PS the title misled me, I thought that your poem wouldn't be anything like what it was.

on Dec. 26 2010 at 9:51 pm
SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
34 articles 2 photos 658 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness too. That was writing."
--Markus Zusak, "The Book Thief"

I really really love where you said "How a pastime of pain was granted the name poetry." I like the ending a lot too. You did good in the rhyme scheme, though there wasn't much there.


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