Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Crowds

Is there an adverse affect to finding out who I am?

Is this just a journey to separate myself from the rest?

To find a place no one has been to?

To settle myself in hills no one else can reach?

To see stars and valleys only I can bear witness to?

Will these bones be strong enough to make it down the hill every day to join the crowds?

And will I be able to fit in again after my mold is so distorted?

The strange thing is, when I do, I always seem to encounter people who seem to come from places just as far away as I’ve come.

Whom have seen valleys no one else has seen.

And can tell stories of their constellations no one else has told.

Their reform doesn’t seem to have fit the mold anymore eighter.

And I love them for this courage to have disregarded it completely too.

Sometimes I miss the mold and it’s disillusionments I just ran through when I was younger.

The way I could hold my breath and find excitement in looking up that hill.

But back then, there weren’t any other people who seemed to be coming up or down from the hill either.

Either I had my sunglasses on again or perhaps I wasn’t looking at all.

I don’t know how I made it to my home in the hill tops.

Or why it seems so cold when I am up there by myself.

But I find warmth in knowing I’ve met people who are making homes in hilltops of their own.

And that we’ve both got bones feeling from the trek, or boots tracking in the dirt. I like the wear on my soul. And I like the toss of molds happening at the foot of the off beaten path.

They’re always the first to go. And now less often picked up when coming back down to the city streets.

And it’s something to remember more when my house feels so spare of the naive comfort of similarities.

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About Woe

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Words are our outright melody and no one else is going to play the songs you feel but yourself. Let me be more esoteric....just kidding. You may ask when reading my poetry, why do I use metaphors so often? After thinking that through, I honestly don't know why. My guess would be that language, though freeing, can also be restrictive. Especially in terms of expressing ourselves in attempt to understand ourselves. I, personally, get stuck in gears sometimes and I like to expand and break through traditional understanding of the concept at hand. I like to read what I'm feeling in different forms, and see if the language can lossen up more.