January 4, 2011

"One poor sonnet will kill it stone dead"

"I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love."
"I thought poetry was the food of love?"
"Of a fine, stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead."
 -Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Many times my writing comes out in the form of poetry. Sometimes the lines rhyme and I find myself speaking in perfect iambic pentameter, and in other instances I find myself writing "freestyle" in a way that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I rarely share these poetic verses with anyone, partly because of my lack of confidence in my skill as a poet, and partly because I don't want to kill any friendships "stone dead" due to my terrible writing of verses. However, after going through several years' worth of poems, I came to the conclusion that some are meant to be shared. So I hope I don't kill off any "vague inclinations", and perhaps someone may even enjoy one of these that I hesitatingly call poems. I'll start with the earliest ones, and hopefully you'll notice that they improve a bit over time.

Here is one from 2008:

Friends may come, and friends may go.
Some leave quickly, Others slow
But by and by they all are part
Of what I am,
my piece of art,
necessities that fill my heart

Some only linger for a while
And it may only be their smile
That tells me who they really are-
They are my friend,
For me they care,
Even if a short time we share

But some friends stick like glue, you see
And many last eternally
They are the ones that mean the most
They’re always there,
Despite what goes.
They are the jam upon my toast.

But whether near or far or wide,
Right next door or across the tide,
Friends are what grow,
Teach, and love me.
They influence who I am becoming;
They put that warm feeling inside my tummy.

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