Tag Archives: poetry

Selfish-x-Spacious

We take up too much space
Buildings with no breathing room

Forests reduced to chippings lodged in our sock

There are too many of us buried

Cancer-causing bodies

Or gunshot wound victims

Both greeted by death

Earlier than expected.

We live to take.

We live to die.

Playing with space and time like

A child with snake

Unaware of the poison in fangs

Or empty hours

Until scales have met skin

But even in death,

Names leak into heart tissue

And memories are hoarded

like stolen treasure

We’re too selfish to share this space.

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Need.

When I write I need…something.

Something more than a keyboard, or pen and paper if I’m feeling old fashioned.

It’s more than an idea as well, its bigger than a plot with more twists than tongue twisted individuals trying to pronounce Shylaman,

All my cells have to be awake from hibernating, brushing the dust off like crisp snow.

As if my body must be in perfect sync with nature, mental meditation is….

*pause to light incense*

mental meditation is a key part of these phrases and prophecies

but I need to feel human

I need to feel two parts immortal and three parts vulnerable

Because thats what it means to be human.

Be wild, be covered in the aura of youth and mistakes

I need that edge over the animals, something more to make my life more than art.

It will sing out louder than the valkyries

My words will taste like black thunder and cinnamon

And you will know

because what resides in it, rings out in you too.

A universal feeling settling within our souls, the ability to feel.

It’s what gives these words life and imagination color.

I need to have the right amount of emotion in my system

just enough to spill out the cracks of my mind and land within these lines.

For without these feelings my words would sound like piano keys being played underwater

But thankfully I’ve been blessed with wisdom, the ability to pump my experience into action

and somehow convey the combination of love, hurt, joy and insanity all in one.

You deserve this, you deserve me to open my life to you.

So don’t fear if it seems like I don’t write that often, its probably because I’m still waiting for my passion to boil my thoughts.

A writer’s block is more like a catalyst for my imagination.

It’s life, its why I write.

~J. Varina