It seems as if a lot of people I know are incredibly talented poets, and I'm super jealous because poetry has always been a medium that has awed me, because generally, I'm terrible at it.
But they say practice makes perfect, and so, I gave it a whirl.
Be forewarned, it's not any sort of kind of, uhm, whatever,... And it follows no rules and it doesn't rhyme and it doesn't have a title and I'm not sure what exactly qualifies it to be a poem, but whatevsies. It's actually the first poem I've ever written by choice.
i sit here typing
in this silent black cocoon
no one near
except these walls
.
i feel
endless possibilities
no pressure
every ounce of air has escaped the tank
if i were flammable
i would be an explosion
of bright colours
dancing around
in this ever small world that i've created
.
So, all in all, pretty terrible and unoriginal, but in my defense, my dog farted just before I wrote it. Yeah...
My favourite poet as a kid (and still is, because I'm not very well acquainted with the poetry world) is Shel Silverstein. He's wicked cool and dead, and always gives me a good belly chuckle.
I was planning to make a list of cool dead people, in Shel's honor, but then changed my mind. Not because it's morbid, but because there are just too many of them!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
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