Tuesday, March 31, 2015

A Different Life

Dear reader

Today is the day before NaPoWriMo,  which stands for National Poetry Writing Month. The objective over the next 30 days is to write 1 poem per day. We have the choice of following prompts, as found at www.napowrimo.net or writing about whatever our hearts desire. I am hoping to accomplish this, but I make no promises. I did this also this past October, for OctPoWriMo,  and the process is exhausting. The reward, however, is priceless.

Today, as a warm up, we were given the prompt 'I guess it's too late to live on a farm' or some variation thereof. Please go to the website to get the full context of the prompt.  And so, in line with today's pre-prompt prompt, I give you this poem. Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok
March 31, 2015

I have lived my life
surrounded by concrete,
bright lights,
speeding cars,
next door neighbors.

My own brand
of peace,
of solitude,
of quiet.

It was all an illusion,
for time has been filled
with constant
busyness.

Now, as I get older
I long for something
different.

I crave nature's wild sounds,
I desire impenetrable darkness
that holds my deepest secrets.

I fear that my thoughts are exposed,
what with all these streetlights
shining like dented halos
around my very existence.

Alas, it is not meant to be.
For as I draw near
to the end,
I suppose it is too late
to move towards
a different life.




Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Through My Eyes

The miles stretch out
front and back,
right and left.

This journey called life
is never more
than a constant reminder
of our own
frailty.

We all have
pain
sorrow
struggles
joy
peace
laughter.

I am no different.

This road I walk on
is rough,
bumpy spots cause me
to stumble,
yet in smooth places
I stay upright.

Sometimes I roam
through wastelands,
dry, deserted.
I crawl on burning sand,
my soul is seared
by darkness.
My tears offer
no solace.

Other times I sail
on smooth waters,
sunshine fills me with joy,
stars illuminate my path
at night.
I have no fears.

My tale is no different
from all others,
except I choose
to speak about it,
to write about it.

I have chosen to reveal
my weakness,
hoping to encourage
learning.

Walk with me
on my journey of life.
Maybe you will see something different
through my eyes.