The Poetry Soldier

The opening poem of my book that explains the theme......

The Poetry Soldier

 

Memories boil to the surface of her mind,

Crippling her strength.

She never one heeded to advice of others to

watch out for destruction,

so she gathers bits and pieces of herself

from the explosion of her fragility…

Blindly running across valleys,

searching for solace in the moon

but burnt from the intensity of the sun,

for she allowed herself to be scorched…

 by his intentions.

 

The journey led her right back to home,

a new discovery emerging

as her pain floated away across the pages of a

free therapy canvas,

passion drumming incessantly on a keyboard.

Seeking to patch up cuts and bruises with words,

bathing in the gift of self-expression.

 

 

Papers are tossed,

stained with tears.

Speaking of the past

which exposed the weak woman

 who had lived inside of her.

For she had been cracked open to reveal her yolk,

 and was devoured with

voracity by her love perpetrator,

 and then spit out.

 

His face is etched across the pages.

Each stanza is his eye gazing--

and she smiles because she

 transfers his power and control

through her pen to create her own masterpiece.

 

As she writes her fiery eyes gaze forward into

 a portal where her anger

sends shock waves through his mind,

psychically creating physical pain,

for he is void of any soul.

 

 

 Yet who is she?

With her masterpiece in hand

She finds herself

stepping onto a stage,

a microphone aimed at

her hesitating lips.

They all cheer, they want to her to pour

out her soul, so she does…

Her words ricochet against the walls of the

room, inhabited with poets warmed by their

passionate fires... similar to the candlelight

flames flickering across the walls,

as if in a dance to the rhythm of

her words…

 

She recites her rhyme,

feeding her emotions to those satiated

by depth of words,

being a victim of poverty so long

her stomach ached with hunger for love,

but she expresses her words to those

who experienced the bittersweet of life…

Hands come together in applause,

her heart had been exposed,

and she cries to the

face etched in her mind one last time,

the one who set up the battleground of her

bloody war,

Who helped her to discover herself:

 

Thank you.

For I know who I am.

Although you took me through the depths of hell,

you made me who I am...

Who am I?

A soldier!

One who is stronger and wiser because of you,

able to turn your destructive words

into my muse

for everyone to meditate upon...

a positive reincarnation.

Somewhere you are cowering, while I stand tall,

my spine rigid, my tongue sharp,

the applause loud,

and it's all because of you.

So once again, I thank you.

 

For making me a Poetry Soldier...

 

Author's Note

I revised this poem as well as my poetry book. Right now it is only available Amazon kindle until I post on other sites which formatting and a lot of extra time which I don't have a lot of at the moment. Here is the site to purchase it:

http://www.amazon.com/The-Poetry-Soldier-Kena-Kump-ebook/dp/B00IN62OV6

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What an incredibly powerful piece of writing and some great metaphors, phrases.. the ending was gently put and really highlighted the words before it.

' They all cheer, they want to her to pour / out her soul, so she does, / the words booming against the walls of / the candlelit room, / inhabited by passionate poets / with drive, showing their arms they have
battle wounds, as well. / Crisp words escape their lips despite / speaking of stale moments.'

The above is finely put, Kena, really, sticks out like a lynch pin somehow. Congratulations for taking the stage and I'm so glad you loved performing.

:-)

[Reeses]

I have those mind boggling poems yet u alwayz seem to make them seem lyke you thought of them for a while. Great write!!! ~Reeses~

[Lady V]

I know how that feels. I am ready to start doing open mic nights but I have this thing about speaking in front of people. It is the shy part of my being. lol I will be going through with it before the end of the year.

As I read the words, I drift back to when I first started writing poetry. My grandmother said she enjoyed something I said and that she wanted me to write it down. What started out as a journal turned into a passion that almost haunted me when my dear grandmother passed away. I have been writing ever since.

I have found that poetry is a force to make statements and make changes in life. Great poem. I LOVE IT. It really speaks to me.


Live, Love and Learn

Lady V

[THE LOST ROSE]

Hey Ms. Kena I know you put it down on that stage. This piece is hot. In Detroit I do spoken word and I know from the pieces I hear weekly this would blow the house down. Finger snaps and invites to other spots you would feel the love. Okay to your poem it contain such purity and power. It felt real. If you said you lived this exact experience it would not have shocked me. If you have post any spoken word (mp3) make sure I get a link. Because with words like this the flow has got to be nice.

[Seriana]

Dang girl!!! Whew! What a ride through your mind! Your intensity is mind-boggling at times and I love it completely. I would have loved to hear you perform this aloud, I bet it was something! You have such a wonderful gift with words. Thank you so much for sharing this. I feel empowered now. :)

[RHEA CROSLEY]

Thanks for sharing your poetic experience. It is neat to think of you performing. I am sure you did a great job. Enjoyed the poem your a good writer. Thanks.

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

A wonderful ode to the poet and the soldier in every one of us that travails and travels through difficult times only to turn our troubles into words of triumph. Congratulations on your reading. I am sure it was awesome. Thank you for sharing your talent. This is quite a masterpiece of detail and inspiration. It is definitely going in my favorites.
Light,
Siddartha

[Andrew Reeves]

This reads like a prose poem to me. . .and I think it works.
Love the imagery. . . love the emotion. . . .love the strong language.
My favorite line here is: "he journey led her right back to home, a new discovery emerging as her pain glided effortlessly across the pages of a free therapy canvas"

Excellent job!

[Marie Starr]

Kudos on the inspiration ... i love when that happens ... i know a few poets who have sent me there ... who have sparked something in me where i just had to write ... one poet and i (we read at an open mic we both used to attend) had several conversation poems his response to mine, my response to his ... that was so fun ...

this is my favorite part:

seeking to patch up cuts and bruises with words,
bathing in the gift of self expression,
wonder caressing her skin...

the only thing that threw me was "which" ... i know i'm always struggling with trying to figure out when to use or drop words like which, that, and, but ... i think this might be stronger and flow smoother without so many "whiches" ... i'll have to write more later... it's storytime here ... night!

[Lyrical Love]

This is powerful Kena!
...also empowering. I am a spoken word virgin. LOL! I love the whole live thing, but almost fall faint at the thought of me being the center of attention. I am so glad that you shared that with me. I hope it gives me the push that I need.
Back to your poem...truly AWESOME! I have had those moments too when someone starts to read in my mind and I have to get it out-because I found that it doesn't come back (for me).
This is was my favorite...
Thank you.

I know who I am.

Although you took me through the depths of hell,

you made me who I am...

Who am I?

A soldier!

One who is stronger and wiser because of you,

able to turn your weapons into my muse

for everyone to meditate upon...

SIMPLY SENSATIONAL!!!

[Legion]

I've been on both sides of this moment. A soldier and a scholar. Kudos.