Tag: Thoughts

A Poet’s Poem

I sometimes stop to think and wonder
If what I write truly has meaning,
If what I am can be redeeming,
If you can get what I am thinking,
If my thoughts sound to you like thunder:
Passing and never understood.

Sometimes, my poems seem to struggle
To find the right path through the darkness,
To reflect my thoughts—such poor a harvest,
To come to me when I need guidance,
To be what I’d meant them to resemble,
And to exist in the real world.

I sometimes feel like I don’t matter,
Like I am average, just a child,
Like I know nothing about life’s trials,
Like I’ve no meaningful words—in denial,
Like I’m not worthy of the letters
Which I write down for eyes to see…

Simply a poet’s poem.

– Patricia

Intrusive Thoughts

First, it happened when she smiled
At a lovely blossomed rose.
“So delicate and so pretty!”
Cut it! said a passing thought.

It came quickly and was gone then,
Quick as the death it had claimed.
She forgot about it soon, then,
As it wasn’t hers at all.

The next time such thought appeared,
She was chatting with her friend.
Suddenly, mid-conversation:
You’re so fake! You just pretend!

This time, it lingered a moment
Before being gone again.
She acknowledged its existence,
But quickly ignored it, then.

Third time was when she was swimming:
What if you just stayed down here?
She just swam up to the surface,
This time feeling bits of fear.

“I’m not sad and I’m not angry,
Nor depressed or hurting, so
Why do thoughts like this appear?
Is there something wrong with me?”

Time and time again she noticed
That such thoughts would come again:
Sudden, real and disturbing,
And nothing of what she felt.

One time, strolling through the city,
One time, when feeding her pet,
With her family or driving,
At night, when the sun would set.

One time, watching children playing,
Or when basking in the sun,
When embracing her grandparents
Or when hugging her dear mom.

Push them! Hurt them! It’s so easy,
Look at them, so vulnerable.
All it takes is one short second
And then it would all be done.

Drive over the edge—so simple.
She stepped on the brake so hard:
Breathing heavily, she started
Questioning her state of mind.

Troubled and concerned, she started
Doubting that she knew herself.
For some time, she felt like she had
Lost her sense of who she was.

Till one day when she decided
To accept them as they were.
She would never act upon them;
They just came and they just were.

Coming, going, she would know them,
Yet she knew herself, as well.
She kept living, breathing, smiling,
Each time bidding them farewell.

– Patricia

To My Thoughts—Give Form

Dark clouds on the silky blue,
Covering the loving light:
Clouds of crows—nightmare come true—
Give out screams of sheer delight.

Gathering above my soul,
Eyes so small with shadow claws,
They start pecking me as whole,
Asking for the words I owe.

I cry out a desperate plea,
Wanting time, a few more days.
They savour my misery,
Feasting on my empty clay.

As there are no words to claim,
They devour every thought,
Picking anything they can:
Sanity and bliss—all gone.

In the midst of such great pain,
A pure dove escapes my soul.
I now know how to regain
What’s always been mine: control.

Gazing at the white of joy,
I stand tall and speak out loud:
“I’m the mind, you can’t destroy
What I choose to set aside!

I create and no cruel time
Can subdue what’s meant to be.
There’s no claim for what will shine,
For the time I set it free.”

As I speak, the cruel birds
Disappear without a trace,
And, instead, feathery whites
Pull me in a sweet embrace.

Art is mine, the words as well,
I decide when they are born.
Time may say “So long, farewell!”,
But I choose when to give form…

– Patricia