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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!
Green Peas at Stake
#592857 added June 24, 2008 at 12:46pm
Restrictions: None
The One that Got Away
You were there with me
when we started, so strong and insistent,
but, now, you are nowhere in sight.
I search for you under rocks,
wear bones and feathers, and do the dance
so you come down again like the rains
or like the light that shines through the clouds.
Yet, you have the shape of the wind
and the grit to run away
and leave me stranded, locking
my fingers on the keys.
There is nothing I can do now, but let you go
for I don’t know how to trap speed.
So I collapse and inflate with distaste
as if I am hanging from my feet,
unseen against the pages.



Prompt from "Poets' Practice PadOpen in new Window. : Write a poem about a good idea getting away from you.




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