Saturday, January 14, 2012

Breaking it out again

I have not been on here for a long time, I doubt anyone checks or notices, but at the same time I feel it my duty to myself to create. So this is my resolution: I will post at least one poem a week. No matter what.

So here we go, I have been reading the Lord of the Rings to my sisters (who love it) so my writing will probably be influenced by that. I apologize for any confusion or strange turns in grammar that arise from that.

Deaf I am Blind

There are two types of cold,
or at least that many, my southern climes teach me little
of ice and thaw, of frost and flame.
but my short time in the snow has taught me
that there is the cold that you sense
on the tips of your nose, on your ears as they turn red,
on hands numb and hard, feeling like limbs of rock.

Then there is the cold you truly feel in your chest
in your breath, in your lungs. That freezes your voice
until you think you will die of suffocation before hypothermia takes hold.
And fear at first takes hold as you feel your limbs die, one by one
then it just feels warm, as if this is home, a sense of acceptance.

Thankfully I have never gone past this point, nor reached it
in any meaningful way. But I think I do know how it feels,
to feel that suffocation, to desire speech, but stay mute.
My voice is frozen in my chest, and there it stays until it bursts
with melancholy and confusion, until my eyes slowly close, and it is warm.


On that note, I have been feeling like something is coming to a culmination, a sense of unease has been following me. I had deja vu yesterday. Now my deja vu moments are not videos nor are they just pictures; they ARE pictures, however a destination, a timeline is included with each. Certain people are often included as well. This one was as I was going to the library with my sisters and my brother. The temperature was well below freezing, so the ground is hard and the small puddles that fill in the potholes of the road have been frozen solid, or almost solid. My sisters are romping about trying to break the glass-like ice into shards, generally causing a ruckus, and suddenly I remember. From a far off memory or dream I recall us going to the library in these conditions, to get The Hobbit (which we were getting). This memory was deeply imprinted into my mind.

I do not know what it means, if anything, but it was so clear, and left me with such a definite impression that I feel that something will happen. Patience is one thing I am usually good with, but I do not enjoy it. I shall employ it now, until I see what or whether this comes to anything.

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