A lonely woman can write about her lover on valentine's day. She can describe his most endearing traits line upon line upon line-- as if...he existed.
A young girl can share her deepest erotic thoughts, demonstrating an ability to take the reader's hand and guide them with her words, leaving them satiated-- but only if she's skilled enough.
For those depressed and those searching to release their pain-- It's a bloodletting.
They've been raped, they've been bullied, ignored and even wounded. The dark side held them too long.
They need you to listen or simply just notice they're alive. They may wonder if writing is all a fruitless endeavor when their written cries for help go unnoticed.
But behind poetry's walls...
A man can offer us a character, from a fictitious town that resembles trees, sidewalks, roads and even paths of his own treasured youth.
An adolescent can share a broken heart with a seemingly invisible world. He/she can release all the angst, tear by tear, until the poem has ended-- for now.
Poetry is a haven for ideas, rants, memories or thoughts that otherwise would go unheard by most. The family simply wouldn't understand.
It is a platform for those skilled or unskilled; for those confident and those apprehensive; for those that standout and those whose computer is their only escape.
Some here, have painstakingly learned poetry has its elements: meter, rhyme, metaphor, and more. As for others, form, cadence, line breaks... are all unimportant.
The prolific and the obscene; those with morals and those without; religious; atheists... they're all involved.
People have left poetry for greener pastures, only to re-emerge days, weeks, or even years later when the writer needed another ear to listen to all he/she wanted to say.
It is a source of frustration, joy and confusion, all mentioned into one place.
It is your yesteryear, your today, and all your tomorrows.
It's a percentage of your life, your time and your thoughts. It consists of creation and destruction.
It's a statement; it's a confession. It's a voice that understands; It's a disciplinarian that doesn't. It's a welcome sign. It's a keep out sign. It's a microcosm of continents and far off cultures. It's a ghost from the past. It's a community. It's a small town. It's a lyrical lagoon.
It's you...it's me...it's us sailing within our own private harbor.
brilliant depiction of WC and its "patrons". as I was reading along, I caught myself nodding in ascent cos you really hit it on the head, Relic.
I find WC a wonderful place to spend time and learn and, maybe, bring something with you for all to see.
good one, Relic.
I came back to read again now that I am feeling more comfortable here....
It's a statement; it's a confession.
' What a wonderful place this is and a fitting tribute to all the writers here who write for so many different reasons.. In fact pretty much all of your first four of five stanza describe me.. The depression, the rape, the hiding.. Its all here.. Writing gives me a voice where here somtmes there is none..
It's a voice that understands.
It's a disciplinarian that doesn't.
It's a welcome sign at the door of a friend.
It's a keep out sign at the door of a
former friend.
It's a microcosm of continents and cultures.
It's a ghost from the past.
It's a newbie.
It's a community.
It's a small town.
it's you...it's me...it's us.'
Thank you for this.. xoxo
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Wow, I'm so sorry to hear of your unfortunate connections to this poem. Thanks for the added review... read moreWow, I'm so sorry to hear of your unfortunate connections to this poem. Thanks for the added review. Writing is always there as catharsis for anyone who can't talk about things to those close.
Bravo! Hit the nail on the head with this well-crafted observation.
Stanza that seems to hit home for me:
"It involves a declaration that you're done
with writing because the muse has
left you, only to discover 3 hours later...you
have an idea."
Yep, that was me for a long time. Now, my muse seems to have traveled away for a very long hiatus :)
Poetry doesn't seem to bubble up like it did in the past... Oh we'll, maybe it will again one day.
Enjoyed the poem very much!
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Hey, good to see you again. I'm sure with a little oil in you finger and elbow joints you'll be able.. read moreHey, good to see you again. I'm sure with a little oil in you finger and elbow joints you'll be able to write again. ha Thanks so much for the review.
For me WC is such an outlet, when I enter my second world here... after a busy day, or just to vent, relax or being creative, I always do love your thought provoking pieces about Writers Cafe, and all your observations, I maybe not say much, but adore it what you do! thank you my friend. Great thoughts on this one!!!!
As someone still in her first week at WC, I've barely made a dent in my ventures around the site, and my little corner still has that fresh "new corner" smell. And so far, I really love it here. I've been welcomed warmly, and have interacted with such kind, friendly people, I've been most pleasantly surprised! After reading "Behind the Walls," I'm now even more convinced that I made the right choice when searching for an online writing home. I think I'll go ahead and settle in. :)
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
If I could bake a cake as a housewarming gift I'd send it over Lily. haha This is the best writing .. read moreIf I could bake a cake as a housewarming gift I'd send it over Lily. haha This is the best writing site on the web. It's easy to use and there are plenty of good writers here, I wrote a bunch down in another post. haha Welcome.
AMEN. I don't have a muse. I have a banshee. I think I hacked my muse off years ago and she took her sparkly Tinkerbell hindparts off somewhere with verdant meadows and clear water. FINE. I'll write without her.
It's us. I like that. I whine at times but I love this place. I learn so much here. If I look at things I wrote in 1982 or 2006 and then I look at things I wrote in say, April 2013 - I see the difference. (I like the newer stuff better - the old stuff is, well?)
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Your reviews sound like poetry in themselves. :) Thanks TL.