Bad Poetry Day

I'm not a real poet. At least, not a real good one.

For the bulk of my life, I have never understood poetry. I still can't say that I do. I have no sense of rhythm, rhyme or pacing. But sometimes, on occasion, a feeling chokes me so hard that all I can think about is random images or phrases. Emotions are tricky things...they defy words. Emotions are not of the left brained world. I wish, most times, that I could plug into someone, have them see the pictures flashing through my brain, hear the song (or songs) playing through my head, and let the feelings that are overwhelming me crash about them, frothy beach swirls of liquid turmoil, fluid tendrils reaching up and pulling them seductively into the depths of my sensations. But alas, all I have are words, crusty barnacled trash barfed up by the beauty of the waves underneath. Words are no match for experience. The intensity loses much in the translation.

So, is my barnacled drivel any good? Nope. My stuff is rubbish in the grand world of poetry. I am a great admirer of people who can write well...I may not read a lot of poetry, but I'm pretty keen on song lyrics. My songwriting heroes can do things with words that completely blow me away. Joni Mitchell, Sarah McLaughlin, Chris Cornell, Steve Hogarth from Marillion...I would give up a kidney to be able to write as well as they do. But it's not quite my gift, so instead, dear readers, you get the kindergarten attempts below.

This first poem was from a day when I felt so much inside, yet I had no way to give it an outlet. Ever feel that way? Below the surface, emotions churned and threatened to crack my whole body. I always see it as a black hole in my center, ready to quickly explode, then reverse and implode down into a tiny, heavy, microscopic dot in the effort to maintain control. It then turns into a weird feeling...to be so full, yet so empty...so full of passion, and yet dead inside. How does one reconcile such extremes?

Sunbaked earth
Hot dry land
Fertile mud drained into useless dust
Water travels
Trapped underneath
Flows through labyrinth caves of hollow emptiness
I can't swim
My breath runs out
This cavern, so full, suffocates and warps heart and soul
Ground above
Cracks with tremors
As all implodes within
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This next one is really old. Its from the last time that I was in love. I now think that the man in question is a complete toad, and I have no idea why I was ever attracted to him, let alone in love with him. At the time, however, I was pretty heartbroken. Isn't it funny when you can look back in time and ask yourself, with raised eyebrow and scornful eyes, "What the heck was I thinking? Yuck!"

The mouth
You've kissed
Holds words unsaid
Years of words
Painfully swallowed
Choking my life away
You say you need
Love, but with total freedom
My devotion, but only conveniently
My body, but only when you desire it
But what of me?
Do I not need?
Your taste, your touch
Your eyes speaking volumes
Of tenderness, of sweetness
Of happiness that I am yours
The silence
Yours and mine
Echos against crystal walls within my heart
As I'm left again
Wounded, near death
In unloved darkness