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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Mushrooms, Splinters, and Thorns
#326515 added October 13, 2009 at 6:13pm
Restrictions: None
Solace in Scars


Solace in Scars

In front of Riverside Church
on Riverside drive,
you glanced in my direction,
your eyelashes piercing through
the frigid wind,
your lips curling in crisis,
two rattlesnakes
ready to strike,
and I felt the icicles in my bones
since it was mid-January,
retrospective, in white.

Your rage is poetry,
a kind of lust,
or sadness,
maybe…
but there’s solace in scars
and I’m not troubled,
for you got no one left
to dishearten now.

What was there is a clichéd blur,
a memory alien,
for the scenery’s changed,
I’m no longer the same,
no more stuck in Woodstock,
vulnerable with faded pride,
no more sagging deep
with visible pain.

After all, I had to learn
a trick or two to survive
and I ride the changes now;
although, no place feels
far enough away
from you.


© Copyright 2009 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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