Swan Lady, I love these both so much. There is such a childlike quality to them. A lightheartedness that only you could do so well. These are my favorite 2 stanzas.
"This place where is live is decidedly strange. It's the nest I have built to exhibit my change.
With it's teeth and it's bones it digests the worries and helps me transform them to poems and stories."
Words are precious, the sum of our memories and thoughts. Restless words try to find comfort on pillows deep within the shelter of the soul while they wait to be given a voice.
The soul needs to be opened to let the words stream out, like lava from a volcano or gushing water from a bursting dam. Words don’t want to be held back, they need to fulfill their purpose: to be spoken, and heard, and understood.
Sometimes we protect them like priceless, vintage wine in a decorous bottle with an elaborate label; but they desperately want the freedom to breathe. Once the bottle is open, it cannot be resealed. When the soul is opened, the words can’t be reclaimed.
Sometimes words slip out, overwhelmed, desperate to be spoken. They can’t help it, because they want their freedom. They need to see the light of day.
A word here and a word there cannot make coherent sentences. Solitary words, or scattered words, from a sacred safe place are mere clues to the joys and pains stuffed into the shell of caution. We are the totality of our words. We must release them from their shell, and give them their voice.
I really like the confidence that shines through in your poem… the happy surprise a person feels when they realize that they are finding a way to express their inner voice. This part is one of my favorites: “I am surprised to hear my voice / so bold and sure of itself / as if it weren’t my own / and for a second there, I had to wonder.” I like that because it nicely shows the self-doubts that so many of us have about truly expressing ourselves and then the surprise (joy, actually) of finding out that we are really learning how to do it. I also especially like this part: “Like a child learning to speak / I am trying out vowels / Tasting consonants / Curling my tongue / Swaying my words / and cooing till song appears.” This is such a great depiction of a form of rebirth, learning how to express ourselves in a whole new way (yet also the most natural of ways!), the way which is most faithful to our own true selves. The section that goes: “I am singing / I am aligning my heart with my throat.” It’s really beautiful. No, this poem is not cheesy at all! It’s good! Besides, how can anything be cheesy if it's how we feel? Right?! :)
MWB - It sounds like you have also found your voice. Being human is so strange the way we choose our words, what we say and do not say even when the words are just sitting in our mouths.
This is a great line "Solitary words, or scattered words, from a sacred safe place are mere clues to the joys and pains stuffed into the shell of caution."
Comments
Water
Throat
Heart
Root
I am surprised to hear my voice
so bold and sure of it’s self
as if it weren’t my own
and for a second there,
I had to wonder.
I listen again,
There is a distant sound
of harmony and balance,
they are bleeding together
the masculine with the feminine
It is a song
A chant
It is spilling out over my lips
But I do not sing?
I never chant?
Water
Throat
Heart
Root
Again, I am surprised by my voice
As if I’d never heard it before
Like a child learning to speak
I am trying out vowels
Tasting consonants
Curling my tongue
Swaying my words
and cooing till song appears
It is dripping like water from my throat
My heart
My root
I am rolling out my wings
Moving decisively forward
Spontaneous and fully aware
I am full of compassion
Ready to except this change in situation
I am…
I am singing
I am aligning my heart with my throat
Bold sound are falling from my teeth
My body is strengthening
My blood moving
I am linking arms
Hugging in my shoulders
till there are no more lines to blend
Water
Throat
Heart
Root
I will kiss them all
Lick there tears
There salt my sustenance,
until all that is left is
clear communication
A complete transformation
(it'a a bit cheesy but, sometimes that's just the way it is)
everyday.
There's no one to bother me
or interrupt my play.
Blankets, Pillows, Slippers
& Tea.
There are fuzzy buddies
who cuddle with me.
In the Rainbow's Lair,
I lie on the floor
and count prisms,
but stop at 144.
Don't ask if I cry,
cause I certainly do,
but I dance to free up
the frozen zones, too.
At night when I sleep,
there's a gem in my hand
who tells me secrets
and takes me to magical lands.
This place where is live is
decidedly strange.
It's the nest I have built
to exhibit my change.
With it's teeth and it's bones
it digests the worries
and helps me transform them to
poems and stories.
This Miss
has to Piss!
Time to climb out
of her Chrysalis!
"This place where is live is
decidedly strange.
It's the nest I have built
to exhibit my change.
With it's teeth and it's bones
it digests the worries
and helps me transform them to
poems and stories."
this is all so fantastical and free.
Thank you
the sum of our memories and thoughts.
Restless words try to find comfort on pillows
deep within the shelter of the soul
while they wait to be given a voice.
The soul needs to be opened to let the words stream out,
like lava from a volcano
or gushing water from a bursting dam.
Words don’t want to be held back, they need to fulfill their purpose:
to be spoken, and heard, and understood.
Sometimes we protect them like priceless, vintage wine
in a decorous bottle with an elaborate label;
but they desperately want the freedom to breathe.
Once the bottle is open, it cannot be resealed.
When the soul is opened, the words can’t be reclaimed.
Sometimes words slip out,
overwhelmed, desperate to be spoken.
They can’t help it,
because they want their freedom.
They need to see the light of day.
A word here and a word there cannot make coherent sentences.
Solitary words, or scattered words, from a sacred safe place are
mere clues to the joys and pains stuffed into the shell of caution.
We are the totality of our words. We must release them from their shell, and give them their voice.
I really like the confidence that shines through in your poem… the happy surprise a person feels when they realize that they are finding a way to express their inner voice. This part is one of my favorites: “I am surprised to hear my voice / so bold and sure of itself / as if it weren’t my own /
and for a second there, I had to wonder.” I like that because it nicely shows the self-doubts that so many of us have about truly expressing ourselves and then the surprise (joy, actually) of finding out that we are really learning how to do it. I also especially like this part: “Like a child learning to speak / I am trying out vowels / Tasting consonants / Curling my tongue / Swaying my words / and cooing till song appears.” This is such a great depiction of a form of rebirth, learning how to express ourselves in a whole new way (yet also the most natural of ways!), the way which is most faithful to our own true selves. The section that goes: “I am singing / I am aligning my heart with my throat.” It’s really beautiful. No, this poem is not cheesy at all! It’s good! Besides, how can anything be cheesy if it's how we feel? Right?! :)
This is a great line "Solitary words, or scattered words, from a sacred safe place are
mere clues to the joys and pains stuffed into the shell of caution."
I love the image of a shell of caution.