Introduce yourself through poetry, fiction, or nonfiction. In your introduction, please relate your personality to a specific season, number, animal and/or object.
Remember there is no right or wrong way to respond to any prompt on this blog!
What would I look like if I were a poem? Would I be long and ostentatious? Or short, sweet and gracious? What type of poem would I be? Perhaps my verses would be open and free... And what of rhyming? I most certainly don't have perfect timing. Would I be a sad poem? Or would I be happy? Would I exhibit pride and intellect? Or would I be simple and funny? But my simple guess, It would be nothing less, Than the likes of this poem.
On common days, I am the weather. Some days I am bright and I spread warmth into other's arms, I allow a smile to fill their face as I warm their skin. But there are always those who hate the warmth, who frown at my touch, my presence. Other days, I am rainy and stormy, and some feel comfort in my embrace, peace in my soothing pour, but others feel disgusted, as if I have ruined the day. My stormy presence frightens them, encourages them to pray me go away, and so...eventually, I do. On recent days, it seems I've turned to oil, and all the people around me have remained water; as if something in my chemical make up has made me different. They will never interact with me, we will never be one. I am oil, and I am disconnected from everyone else in the world, and so I feel I will remain in solitude, separate from the people around me. On all days, I want to become steel. I want to be unaffected by the harmful things in my universe, be as confident as I pretend to be. I want to be cold, feel no pain, no worry, no insecurity. I want to be strong, proud of who I am, able to make it through anything thrown my way. I want to be hard, able to ignore the hurtful things that burrow in my brain, the harsh stares I do not deserve, the judgment that I am less than I feel. Please, let me be steel.
What would I look like if I were a poem?
ReplyDeleteWould I be long and ostentatious?
Or short, sweet and gracious?
What type of poem would I be?
Perhaps my verses would be open and free...
And what of rhyming?
I most certainly don't have perfect timing.
Would I be a sad poem?
Or would I be happy?
Would I exhibit pride and intellect?
Or would I be simple and funny?
But my simple guess,
It would be nothing less,
Than the likes of this poem.
On common days, I am the weather. Some days I am bright and I spread warmth into other's arms, I allow a smile to fill their face as I warm their skin. But there are always those who hate the warmth, who frown at my touch, my presence. Other days, I am rainy and stormy, and some feel comfort in my embrace, peace in my soothing pour, but others feel disgusted, as if I have ruined the day. My stormy presence frightens them, encourages them to pray me go away, and so...eventually, I do.
ReplyDeleteOn recent days, it seems I've turned to oil, and all the people around me have remained water; as if something in my chemical make up has made me different. They will never interact with me, we will never be one. I am oil, and I am disconnected from everyone else in the world, and so I feel I will remain in solitude, separate from the people around me.
On all days, I want to become steel. I want to be unaffected by the harmful things in my universe, be as confident as I pretend to be. I want to be cold, feel no pain, no worry, no insecurity. I want to be strong, proud of who I am, able to make it through anything thrown my way. I want to be hard, able to ignore the hurtful things that burrow in my brain, the harsh stares I do not deserve, the judgment that I am less than I feel. Please, let me be steel.
I am a mountain
ReplyDeletetall and strong
mooving yet still
I am a mountain
battered by wind and rain
eroded by time
and cut by fate
I am a mountain
Alive and thriving