Round And Round We Go...

It's been a while since I have sat down and just written new poems and short stories but sometimes an energy hits you and you speak a sentence aloud to yourself then you know you are ready to start writing again. That happened to me this morning as I was listening to a song called "Ghost" by Lianne La Havas. I have been talking a LOT about her lately but that's because I love her music and think she is exceptionally beautiful and talented but this post isn't about Lianne. She's pretty great though!

This new piece is called Prints of the Past. It isn't extremely long but it was a steady flow from the first sentence to the last word. That's how I like to write. Organic. Not forced. It feels like a messages meant just for me; an internal lecture to my thoughts and emotions. Okay, Blah Blah. Here's the poem. lol

Prints of the Past

Poems written about haunting cloudy days
Turn into clichéd expressions of the same emotional rhetoric that seems to recycle itself within our emotional consciousness
The same bullshit that makes us wait for a love that may never arrive
The kind of soul sucking advertisement promoting an idealistic view of how we should feel
Of how we should deal
Of how we should heal

But the ghosts of the loves lost, left behind and hidden from our view
Are never changing
But we are ever rearranging the same words trying to find different ideas
Different meanings
That will comfort the hearts and minds of the lost
Of the left behind
Of the misguided
It touched me, the ghost of who I once was,
And it was traveling with the ghost of what I once felt for you and what you confessed you felt for me

I was certain I was trapped in a dream of tortured circumstances but I felt, too strongly, the presence of energies all speaking in unison
Speaking to me as if I were one of them
As if I were saved from my sins
As if I were born again
And I was frozen
Hoping the only thing that could melt away the bitterness stored would be staring at me when I turned around
Foggy images of you and I passed my eyes as I turned hoping you would be there but I had to blink to focus

My eyes opened to see only our ghosts walking away together
As I stood alone.

Check out the song I was listening to when the first line of this poem came to be.