Crumpled Poetry

Oh, but I am so very much more

than a collection of pretty words.

I’m tear stained and crumpled poetry;

stirring, profound, rubbish, absurd.

I’m tranquil shades of arcadian blue,

a hawk soaring over wide open skies;

demure and charcoal grey backdrops,

and storms raging from swollen eyes.

I am the stench of decayed, rotting earth

and the fertile soil for next years blooms.

I am a golden, shining city on the hill,

all its dark alleys and forgotten rooms.

Endless galaxies and infinite light;

nothing more than a grain of sand.

I’m gritted teeth and a clenched fist,

an open heart, and outstretched hand.

© Cristen Writes

Image by Yana Istoshina

4 Comments

  1. Cristen,
    Your words resonate in my heart, every time. Please keep writing. I look forward to emails alerting me of a new arrival.

    I read your words and I feel the duality of the human experience. You have a way to hold all of our human experiences in the shape you give to your words. I know these places and I feel the depth of emotion as I read them aloud, often to my partner, as I whisper – she just released another poem, want to hear?

    I applaud your vulnerability and I am inspired by the journey you take us on with your words.
    Thank you for being you and sharing with all of us. I am in awe,
    Jen

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow, Jen, what an honor to read your comment. I am humbled and ever so grateful that you shared. This journey can be so lonely at times, despite its beauty. You have brightened the way today by sharing with me. Namaste sister 🙏❤️

      Liked by 1 person

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