The_Sweetest_Thing
MacPhisto's serving wench
Here goes...
Just a few random thoughts. My first poem...not abstract, not deep, not harsh. Just something I was passionate about. Wasn't suppsed to be this long, but it sort of took on a life of its own about halfway through. A work in progress (now requesting membership to WTWSA).
The Ballerina
The simplest movement of the leg
Requires the strength of the deepest soul
Perfection, in all its viciousness
Demands control
With each action I exude
Balance, stability
Power
Nature's cruel desire to see me fail
Is unequaled by my passion
I will not give in to my limitations
Stature, flexibility
I cannot escape the inevitable
Wrench of pain
Injury
Movement races across my mind
As my body thrashes to keep time
Awkward in my own skin, I am
Poetry in motion
The smooth, simple line of beauty
I struggle to achieve
Grace
I am stifled in stillness
Freed only through choreography
Harmony--fusion of the soaring heart
Spirit, self
My sisters become
Rhythm, co-ordination
Expression
Time's crafting hands
Are reflected in the fluidity of an arm movement
The extent to which I reach
Is unlimited
Though I may spiral upward
I return to the earth
Grounded
------------------
*It's not why you're running
It's where you're going
It's not what you're dreaming
But what you're gonna do
It's not where you're born
It's where you belong
It's not how weak
But what will make you strong*
Just a few random thoughts. My first poem...not abstract, not deep, not harsh. Just something I was passionate about. Wasn't suppsed to be this long, but it sort of took on a life of its own about halfway through. A work in progress (now requesting membership to WTWSA).
The Ballerina
The simplest movement of the leg
Requires the strength of the deepest soul
Perfection, in all its viciousness
Demands control
With each action I exude
Balance, stability
Power
Nature's cruel desire to see me fail
Is unequaled by my passion
I will not give in to my limitations
Stature, flexibility
I cannot escape the inevitable
Wrench of pain
Injury
Movement races across my mind
As my body thrashes to keep time
Awkward in my own skin, I am
Poetry in motion
The smooth, simple line of beauty
I struggle to achieve
Grace
I am stifled in stillness
Freed only through choreography
Harmony--fusion of the soaring heart
Spirit, self
My sisters become
Rhythm, co-ordination
Expression
Time's crafting hands
Are reflected in the fluidity of an arm movement
The extent to which I reach
Is unlimited
Though I may spiral upward
I return to the earth
Grounded
------------------
*It's not why you're running
It's where you're going
It's not what you're dreaming
But what you're gonna do
It's not where you're born
It's where you belong
It's not how weak
But what will make you strong*