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The following poem took about 4 days to finalize.
Driven by an invisible force,
I take each step with ease,
for fear if left to run it's course,
I'll fall to my knees.
And yet I'm apprehensive still,
despite this fearless foe,
if blinded by the black of night,
or tempted by what might show.
And hence we know this careless thrown,
can never be for one,
and yet I run into the wind,
as if it were for fun.
I'm going to do something a little different here and add some commentary for each stanza. I'll label them 1, 2 and 3 respectively.
1. Driven by a force that I cannot see I continue to write and be creative. I can feel this force and I am producing works from this force. I take each step with ease because I don't know where it's leading and I don't want to fall back to the bottom where I was before. This force is leading me somewhere and if cautious in my persuit, I'll be more apt to not fall from grace so to speak.
2. I'm apprehensive in my following of this invisible force because I'm scared that it will cease to be. I want so much to remain creative and have my feelings and desires transposed to writing for others to share. This feeling is very much akin to love. In a certain respect it may be likened to having other people understand the processess at work in your life. Maybe like a emotional bonding of some kind. I'm blinded by the black of night in respect that I'm not knowing what will happen in the future. I'm tempted to show my feelings but still quite apprehensive as to how those feelings will be interpreted by others.
3. And hence we know this careless thrown can never be for one. This is likening a thrown to being on top. My 15 minutes of fame so to speak. What it's saying is that this "Top Of the World" feeling can never be for just one person. However I'm running into the wind as if I believe deep down in my heart that it will only be for me in the end. I'm doing all this as if it's some kind of game and fun. All knowing that I'm just a normal guy, with fairly normal feelings that just wants to persue a creative outlet and share the products of that outlet with the people here at NAO (and ultimately the World).
WOW I feel really happy and content with this latest journal entry. =)
Today has been a very productive day. While gathering inspiration from reading many Emily Dickinson poems I decided to try my hand at a few tangents and this is one of them. My goal is to reverse engineer her style, learn and master it and explore it with creative writing...
Devotion By Itself
Devotion by itself,
is a touch of the hand,
a swiftness in the breath,
so hard to understand.
When matched with trust,
it's shape will mend,
and gather love beside,
and adorn itself with ornaments,
a thing that's seldom tried.
If honor is placed within it's grasp,
it'll ferment into a wine,
and age along and infinite,
and something so devine.
When taken full and in sum,
these elements will congeal,
and build upon themselves,
with strength of that in steel.
This post was edited by majic on Jan 10, 2004.