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Parallelism

Being a poet is a funny thing,
Sometimes words and minutes flow at the same rate and it's all my pen can do to keep up.
Other times I roll myself up like a tube of toothpaste,
Trying to squeeze out those last stubborn sentences.

But every now and again, my mind is flattened by some falling phrase,
Something random and uncomfortable,
Like my muse just sent me a drunken text message.

"Your pulse runs parallel to the Earth."

I have no idea what that means.
I keep turning it over and over like a locket rusted shut,
One that I discovered, but could never create.

Poetry is the verbal expression of perpetual motion, but not everything is within its reach.
And maybe these enigmatic shards of language don't come from me.
Maybe they come from that never-ending space between the Earth and your pulse.

It's as if human blood circled a path that never intersected with an interstellar orbit.
As if a beating heart could equal its force.
As if words were always enough.



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JRayeThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 27 at 9:36 pm:
This is amazing! I normally don't like poetry, but this just felt so honest, so simple yet elgant. The ending might be my favorite part: "As if words were always enough." I feel like words can move mountains too - it's the reason I'm a writer. You're truly giftd - incredible job :)
 
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Amaranthinium This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 27 at 5:28 pm:
I really love this poem - unique phrases and a wonderful description of poetry and language. I especially like that line, "poetry is the verbal expression of perpetual motion" - really cool. And it's true, sometimes weird phrases just kind of pop into your head and you don't know what to do with them at first! 
 
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