Growing up, I was forever mindful of words. I listened to what others said and questioned why. I cringed when I heard raised voices and unkind words. I smiled when I observed animated conversations. Best of all, I discovered a whole other world when I learned to read. It fed my imagination. The neighborhood library was my personal haven.
Over the years I have used my share of words. Endless essays, formal presentations, shared sentiments at weddings and funerals, and countless emails. Sometimes the words have come readily. Sometimes they have been strained or difficult to find. And then there is poetry.
There is something about writing poetry that challenges the senses all at once. Poems capture a feeling. Poems conjure vivid images. Poems look a certain way. No two are alike. Poems have the power to touch the mind and the heart and the soul. Poems are well-crafted words that land just so. To inspire. To reflect. To think.
From the timeless world of Shakespeare to the time sensitive variation of Word Porn found across social media, words matter. Carefully chosen and constructed with care, they matter.
Still Life
Plucked innocence
cut in its prime
stolen
petals once supple and soft
cling to the image
of being alive
crafted now upon canvas
hard and unforgiving
it does not wilt
it does not die
original grace
does not die.
cbienko
Time Enough
