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.

:-)

[R J Askew]

Great stuff. You evoke great and dangerous romance. It leads men into quests and dangerous places. Our intelligence tells us not to. But we do all the same. We think we will fail and often we do. But still we drive on, madly. It makes no sense. We can never win. Words are not real. And those who calculate always get the better of those who follow the battle flags and throw themselves into battle with a wild heart. Gimme that mic!

[J.Black]

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...

a positive reincarnation.


-- okay, so those words right there are brilliant! This is the first work that I have reviewed for you since us being friends and I really must say that I think I will become a really big fan of you. Thanks so much for sharing this. You are wonderful.

[Ocean Orchid]

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...
a positive reincarnation.

------ This is an masterpiece .... the flow is very spontaneous... strong message here with the stroke of reality ... yet inspiring .... interestingly, which we all may hv to go through in some point in life ... u get stumbled for a while & then u move on again ... great write .thanks fr sharing.

[JRB]

it was enjoyable, thank you
Jan/uisiom

[TamiViolet]

Kena, this is brilliant work!!! I don't even know where to begin...

Passion is revealed to the tenth power; imagery paints pain and pleasure in writing as a means of release. The read is both inspirational and introspectional, and metaphors are very, very unique.

I like the questions you pose to the reader and to yourself and the change in font as you discover answers.

Who am I?
A soldier!
One who is stronger and wiser because of you,...

Life experiences... funny how someone from miles away can transform us. We expose our hearts, and writing becomes a catylst leading to a stronger, wiser individual... as you say...

a positive reincarnation.

My friend, thank you for posting this powerful read :-) So enjoyable!!!