There’s an absence of light
Behind my eyes,
An absence of words
In my fingers,
And on my tongue
Sings voices I have not heard
In many years.
There’s an absence of warmth
From my arms,
Where a baby would sit;
An absence of solemnity,
The kind that was sad
But also safe.
There’s an absence of fear
Yet an absence of strength
In my legs, enough
To stand on sand
As the chilling ocean waves
Sweep me out from under.
An absence of sincerity
Haunts my movements
And my intentions,
An absence of desire
An absence of openness.
There’s an absence of light
Because I walk in the dark.
But in the absence of light,
I still walk.
Just gonna first say…oops! I’ve missed FIVE weeks of poem posts! Because of that (and because of previous occasions of missing weeks), I will no longer falsely title my posts “a poem a week” because, well, it has not exactly been faithful to that timeframe. Anyway…have a poem!
I pull the string and get off
Anywhere, and I walk, walk, walk.
Sit in front of a house I like
And close my eyes, pretend I live there.
Daydream until it breaks my heart.
Until I’m broken.
Then I get up and breathe,
Walk, walk, run.
My feet clop-clop on the sidewalk
Because I wore my heeled boots today.
And I breathe to that sound.
I breathe, and lose, and lose,
And can’t stop running.
Sit down and hold my breath.
I see another bus pass by.
Close my eyes again because
I can’t scream.
I tap my toe, bite my lip,
Bring my fingers to my scalp.
I look up to the leaves,
The shining orange leaves
That are beautiful and feel like forever.
They could stay forever, in my mind,
If I choose to let them.
There’s a house with a porch
And I almost take the steps,
Just so I can stand there and pretend
I could stand there forever.
And then I remember: nothing lasts forever.
There’s a bus stop three meters away,
And I walk, walk, walk.
I put headphones to my ears
And forget I was ever here.
And so to the end, the end of days
When I’ll remember this moment again,
And I’ll think to myself,
“Boy, was I crazy.”
I always tell people that moving somewhere is better than not moving at all. You’ll make progress, even if you’re going in the wrong direction. Because about-turns are possible, you are actually closer to success than you think.
Another small part to my newest story. Enjoy!
I came home late again. Not because I was working. Not because I was at school. Not because I was visiting a sick person or passing out water bottles to the homeless on the street. It was because I was indulging in what my mom considered the most selfish act to ever be conducted.
I was taking a walk.
My mom accused me of running away. Each time I returned with a complacent look on my face, she insisted that’s exactly what I was doing. I would just smile, shake my head, and step lightly to my room, as if I had just experienced the most satisfying thing in the world. In a way, it was satisfying. Knowing that I was always right and she was always wrong, it was enough to go to bed without the necessity of coming out again until morning. And all the while, the rain would come, in one way or another. It would come, and it would make my day better.
By the way, my name is Lorraine. I prefer Laney. Actually, I prefer Luna.
We all have specific things that uniquely perk our inner creativity. We’re all inspired by different things. I quite enjoy the journey of discovering just what those things are. Here are five of my own:
- Bookstores. Yeah, no surprise there. But I at least know where to go when I’m feeling creatively stunted. It really is a wake up call. Surround me with books and BAM.
- Watching from a window. It’s partly distracting and partly invigorating. I haven’t decided yet if it’s more productive for me to work by or a window or not. But it certainly stirs up ideas.
- Watching my favorite movies. And re-watching them. I suppose seeing great stories that I love inspires me to make great stories that others will love.
- Being busy. Vague, yes. Being busy with what? Anything, really. When I’m busy I feel productive, which then motivates me to be more productive. And yes, even creatively. Perhaps it’s the sense of accomplishment.
- Walking. If I can walk somewhere, I will. I love to walk. It’s not only healthy, but my mind just loves to wander.
What sort of things or activities awaken your creative mind?
For all of us, there are those big lifelong dreams, and then there are those little, tiny dreams that we can’t help but think about and desire to fulfill. They seem so small and insignificant to others, but to us, if we can just fulfill it once, it would make our world. Here are 5 of my own:
- Jump in a pile of leaves. They never happen in Texas, and so I’ve never been able to do it. I want to know that wonderful sensation of landing in a frothy pile of autumn leaves.
- Sing a worship song. I’ve sung solos before in church, but it was more a performance than for praise and worship. It’s something I think about often…
- Read by candlelight. Technically I could have been fulfilling this my whole life, and yet I haven’t done it yet. It has to be on the perfect night, though, like a stormy winter night.
- Walk through snow. I’ve seen snow, but not legit, real snow. I want to walk through it, bundled in boots and a coat and everything in between.
- Keep a scrapbook. Though this dream would span a number of years, it’s just a little dream that I want to start and continue on.
What little dreams do you hope to fulfill?