11-24-2012, 04:39 AM
Why do I fall apart when he stays away
for days and days?
More importantly,
why does he stay away from me,
why does he leave me
…alone…wondering…writing…
“I sit alone here in my dark, silent room,
writing to you by candlelight
staring out the window at the falling snow;
each little snowflake
living its brief moment in the light of the street lamp,
lingering or hastened through this limelight
at the whim of the wind,
passing thus away,
back into the dark space of night,
becoming again invisible,
forgotten.
Here I wait for you.
I’ve waited for you all day.
You said you would come.
You did not come.
I ask myself in my solitude
‘Did he forget me?’
I ask myself
‘Why does everyone forget me?’
like a small girl left waiting alone outside
in the cold
after her school has closed for the day
and all her classmates
long since picked up and taken back home
to the warm embrace
of a family.
The small girl stands alone,
shivering in the cold,
unclaimed, orphaned…scared.
Nobody wants her,
nobody remembers her -
not even her own parents.
As I stare into the night,
white with falling snow,
deep inside me I feel this pain -
my brief time in the light of your love is done.
I ask myself,
‘How many days will he desert me for this time?
How many weeks?’
I ask myself,
‘Why did they forget me?
Why did they leave me alone,
waiting?’
Time after time, I only find one explanation -
I am not worthy.”
Ok, so now my prose is a poem. Because I put it in lines?
I disagree. It's the content that makes a poem in my opinion and how you shape the content is purely cosmetic. Poetry is not skin-deep.
Now that I separate this writing into lines, I think it is a poem and definitely not purely prose. But I want it written as a prose piece. When I have it in the form of prose, it has a connected flow that it doesn't have when I separate it into lines. To me, it is therefore poetic prose. A poem written in the form of prose.
for days and days?
More importantly,
why does he stay away from me,
why does he leave me
…alone…wondering…writing…
“I sit alone here in my dark, silent room,
writing to you by candlelight
staring out the window at the falling snow;
each little snowflake
living its brief moment in the light of the street lamp,
lingering or hastened through this limelight
at the whim of the wind,
passing thus away,
back into the dark space of night,
becoming again invisible,
forgotten.
Here I wait for you.
I’ve waited for you all day.
You said you would come.
You did not come.
I ask myself in my solitude
‘Did he forget me?’
I ask myself
‘Why does everyone forget me?’
like a small girl left waiting alone outside
in the cold
after her school has closed for the day
and all her classmates
long since picked up and taken back home
to the warm embrace
of a family.
The small girl stands alone,
shivering in the cold,
unclaimed, orphaned…scared.
Nobody wants her,
nobody remembers her -
not even her own parents.
As I stare into the night,
white with falling snow,
deep inside me I feel this pain -
my brief time in the light of your love is done.
I ask myself,
‘How many days will he desert me for this time?
How many weeks?’
I ask myself,
‘Why did they forget me?
Why did they leave me alone,
waiting?’
Time after time, I only find one explanation -
I am not worthy.”
Ok, so now my prose is a poem. Because I put it in lines?
I disagree. It's the content that makes a poem in my opinion and how you shape the content is purely cosmetic. Poetry is not skin-deep.
Now that I separate this writing into lines, I think it is a poem and definitely not purely prose. But I want it written as a prose piece. When I have it in the form of prose, it has a connected flow that it doesn't have when I separate it into lines. To me, it is therefore poetic prose. A poem written in the form of prose.