You, the future, matters relating, connection
Eyes fill
Lids heavy with your despondency
Wouldn’t want to repair the puncture you made
( my structure’s taut and hers of wonder)
Sheds the ‘irrelevance’ of, water bags, me
Not even important enough to hate
You literally couldn’t care enough
During my saga of loneliness
I want to be there.
We are creativity
and the universe, swept up
Looking for purpose
And she jolts me, as I catch up to it
She is the force of depth, that won’t need
to impress
From pain, I want a reprieve
My healing is constant. Evolving. Painful
Misinformation, that you chose to decode as historical fiction
She is the spark
The depth, meaning, hope, peace and joy within
The science behind, the words to describe
all that she longs to
Centuries of stories and philosophies
Brewing, sparking, from imaginative
creativity
I want her to feel alive, from within
Even missteps on broken ladders,
shows us what my need is
Growing and loving both of our hearts
She has words that, more-than, matter, change to make
Time to relax, and do that, without
her insides eating her health
A body of power and wonder
And everything she will go on to tell
The shame of not feeling wanted, for me
Hit
We are the fire, flames
and the spark
Rubbing the bark scrapings together
Turning thoughts
into moments
and you had laughed, when I whispered
this is my calling
and when I dared to call it ‘Art’
..
(not a literal poem, abstract ideas)
UK poet, spoken word, Tara
re-working old words
(a mashed up poem - started about one thing, ended differently)
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