Stars never shone so brightly
in summer skies and on lonely nights,
before now, at my window
shadows cast by streetlights.
Planets shining brighter still,
maps in the sky above my head
pointing the way but I can’t follow,
I’ll never again be so easily led.
Stars and comets, clouds and sky
far above me yet feel like home,
my nightly companions, lighting my vigils,
window-spent nights when I’m entirely alone.
(c) 2008.
carlarenee45
May 19, 2012 at 12:07 pm
now this is the kind of poety I wish I could write. Sitting alone on a fire escape or the side of a mountain. It is the kind of poetry that can take me away and yet I can take my own little world with me.
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 21, 2012 at 11:42 am
Honestly? Just write. I don’t sit and plan anything out; it’s just words which come into my head. If you force it, it won’t come, or it won’t work.
Thank you, that’s a lovely compliment. Really made me smile.
carlarenee45
May 21, 2012 at 12:21 pm
I do that too a lot of the time. I don’t make rough drafts or anything when I try to be creative. It doesn’t help me much lol
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 21, 2012 at 12:33 pm
Heh, sometimes it just doesn’t happen. I think it’s impossible to judge your own poems anyway; the ones I’ve thought are awful are usually the ones with the most comments!
Trinity River
May 19, 2012 at 2:13 pm
I hear your pain. Wish I could hug you.
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 21, 2012 at 11:40 am
Oh, thank you Trinity… that means a lot. *hugs* They may only be internet hugs, but it’s better than a kick in the teeth
Trinity River
May 21, 2012 at 2:00 pm
Or a sharp stick in the eye!
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 21, 2012 at 2:05 pm
Oh yes
pdlyons
May 21, 2012 at 5:45 pm
you are a very strong poet. cheers
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 21, 2012 at 6:11 pm
Thanks! I appreciate it.
crayfish
May 22, 2012 at 9:24 am
This is my kind of poem. When I set out to write, this is what I aspire to reach to. It doesn’t always work. Why stifle creativity? It has to run and sometimes we have to force ourselves to write or to use laxatives (in a figurative sense, of course).
halfwaybetweenthegutter
May 22, 2012 at 12:38 pm
Wow, thank you! I find forcing writing to be pointless for me; it won’t come if I try to make it. I’ll just be sitting there and suddenly a line will pop into my head, and I work the poem around it. Just letting it flow is the best advice I could give for writing poetry.