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Poema

Something I have made …
But I have not:
There was only stillness within me.
And from the stillness,
came more stillness.

Something I have made …
But I have not:
there was only pause;
a sense of ‘being’.
No sense of relationship with other than
myself.

Something I have made?
I am still …
… waiting.
 
 
 
 
 
 

afterwords

This piece was written after learning that the word “poem” derives from the Ancient Greek poema, meaning “something that is made,” from the verb ποιεω (poieo) “to make”.

It was a fascinating concept to me because at that time, I was on a professional training course that I had spent three years working towards – only to discover that the role wasn’t for me.
To say that I was heartbroken, is an understatement! The course was the most damaging thing I have ever done to myself and during that time, I found myself unable to write.

This came as a shock because writing had always been so innate for me and then suddenly, here I was in a grievous situation that needed expression and my words wouldn’t come.

The definition made me look at the manufacturing process of writing and what it meant to me.
 

 
 
SO TELL ME: What do you think of this piece?

  • Did it engage you?
  • Does the meaning come across? Are there any images or lines you don’t understand or find unclear?
  • Are there obvious errors in spelling, punctuation or grammar?
  • Do you have any suggestions for revision?

Please be brutally honest in your assessments – good, bad or indifferent.
I don’t scare easily; and I really do want to hear what YOU have to say about my work.

Many thanks in advance for your time and your criticism.
 
 

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AUTHOR: I am might war. I have a love of music, the written word, travel, Anime, polar bears, people and “sticking and colouring”.

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