Soul/Soar

-
I have a soul - this I know
I know no sole
reason to think I alone
can amount to the role
that I see as a goal.

I sit down and sigh -
so delightfully sly:
the goal of my life
that may just pass me by

I have a soul - I must grow
must glow in the soles
of the shoes I alone
believe I can fill - so
I'll laugh - fly - soar.

I look up to the sky
the stars are so shy
symbolic of dreams
that I see in my eyes

So I'll fly
And I'll soar
I'll open the door
This dream is a dream
No more
It's reality
with a soul

It's my sole reality
And I won't let go
I won't let go
8-17-10

Written just now on a whim. More often than not I tend to write pieces on these mere whims. How blessed are the creatively inclined. But of course, it can be a curse as most artists may understand: artists are the perfect example of being incredibly overachieving without seeming to look like they're doing anything significant in front of the general public. And that is where the general public has the fictitious idea that pieces of art - whether literary or otherwise - come up out of nowhere with the names of artists they may or may not know of on a small plaque or tab near said work of art. This isn't true. Refer to what I said a sentence earlier.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got more musing to do. Quite amusing really...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sweet Medicine

-
So I've heard that the difference between poison and medicine is in the dose.      I've also heard that food should be our medicine, the front lines against disease.    I've also  heard                          (bear with me) that the quickest way to a man's heart           is through his belly. Let's put aside the obvious      problems glaring at us            with glowing,              unsettling eyes - of the literal relationship of constant ingestion of meaty, fatty proteins and heart disease - and let's just sit back, relax: take this     on a more abstract level. Her words & actions        were saccharine: thick dollops of gelato filling a generously large bowl. It took more than a few years to finish, but I got throu...
Read more

Because...

-
Image
Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played At wrestling in a ring; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarecely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity. Emily Dickinson "Because I could Not Stop for Death..." I stated in an earlier post that I'd venture into poetry - I never said I'd take another's. But this isn't a poetry post - this is one of those kind-of-essays. I have just recently been given the news of the passing of my grandmother on my mother's side. It's hard enough to deal with a relative's dea...
Read more

But Whatever Do You Mean?

-
Her mind was reeling, in a state of retropulsion, as though stepping - no, leaping  back would save her from dwelling on the implications of what just happened. The enemy - so-called -             called for truce,      even friendship. She has known him these past three years and not once has he made any indication of backing down. His sense of pride, like a wall, didn't allow the very idea to enter through the gates. And yet now, when she chances upon him in the streets, all she sees on his face is bewilderment,              even confusion. When he chances upon her,                        his eyes fill with anger - but does she see a hint of embarrassment, dancing in the corners? Her curiosity is getting the better of her -                     she demands him, upon...
Read more