Glossed over

acceptance, art, creative writing, emotions, excerpts, Fiction, irony, literature, love, memories, missing someone, muse, Objectified, poetry, poets, self-discovery, self-reflection, sensual, Uncategorized 0 Minutes

For years I stood blank, in quietness

Like a canvases left colorless

I became what as the world reflected

None of which made me a saint

 

You think you know me

When absolute truth isn’t the same

You know the glimmer you’ve seen

Glimmers, you’ll love or simply hate

 

When in tangible of all realities

Beyond your flawed capabilities

I’m everything you couldn’t see

I’m that image you never felt…in-between

 

Poet of the Light © 2018

Published by Poet of the Light

email me if you wish. poetofthelight5@gmail.com If you chose to attack me, I reserve the right to presume you don't exist and unworthy of a retort, or I may just write you and your ignorance out of my mind. ;-) Truth be told~ I’ve no idea what kind of writer or poet I am, how good or how bad really. In this day and age it seems, we sometimes get likes (feel obligated) because we liked someone work/art or message. I’m not keen to that concept, albeit I understand others might be trying to be supportive- within that gray area so as not to seem critical, to someone they perceive as a lessor learner. I tend to write from past experiences, (not all my own) and some are even new drafts of old versions of writes from a more modern view/voice or understanding. I enjoy being a tad provocative in the sense of stirring up ones emotions. I oft dismiss the mechanics because they tend to hinder realities honest and authentic voices conveying a truth, even if but their own. Reminding others in my message what having a loss feels like, traversing as a frail vessel adrift at on a sea of bitterness- alone or a new love acquired, and usually from a childish perspective. All writers have goals and many have entrenched agenda’s but for me, I have the need to write. Everything I write comes from my heart. I share them here, amongst those who might relate, might appreciate what is my style, my tone, my tragedy, my perspective, my naked vulnerability as whispers- from the scars on my heart. I like to think of myself as a high-wire balancing ambivert that can slip one way or another on the stretched tether of my heart whereas poetry serves as my balancing rod. Thank you for reading and your visit. Perhaps we will dance like love birds, to the same intertwining music as we delve in cryptic words on inked pages during our life's…song?

Published

17 thoughts on “Glossed over”

  2. These words have brought some closure. I cared deeply for a fella’ who just went away. I’ve grappled with the sadness for a bit trying to rationalize, blaming myself, then just being angry at him. Poison prison for my soul. Now i understand that when i started to reach into the layers I frightened him away. These words are medicine for the broken heart. Amazing work. Obrigado.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Those who are honorable will sacrifice self, in one way, shape or form, before harming someone they love, imo. Love shouldn’t keep us prisoners when love is about freedom itself.
      Your comment was most gratifying and humbling, Thank you for your kind words.

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

  7. You romanticize Heartake..I love a poem that makes me feel a feeling from reading the words..although it makes me feel sad for you, the writer, I feel it must touch anyone who reads it.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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