poetry 05-04-09 - "untitled garbage"

Trying to express youself can be rather difficult at times.
It is not that certain words are hard to find,
but that putting them down, in a way, changes the meaning
If I was to say everthing I think, it can sometimes become
random garbage.
not garbage like baggage, but garbage like jiberish.
garbage.

---- end this one... ---- errr.. trying again..


new poem 05-04-09 - "Anyways..."

I dont want to say everything.
I just dont. I feel it is way too public.
I am not a billboard.
I dont have big fonts that everyone can read.
To paint a piture with words is difficult.
Especially when you are not sure what you are looking at.
But you know there is someone behind you
Thinking about what you might create.
Trying to figure you out.
You can move your fingers in the mud
And create almost any image you want.
You can play and have fun,
Create a new journey, a new path, and hope they will follow
Or you can try, yes try, to tell the truth
And be honest about what you think is real.
Knowing that nothing is really there to be real
Just yourself and your own thoughts.
As I ponder my next move
I sit still, and try to let go.
I sweat a little, but not too much.
I know any sweating it is wasted and un-useful, I really do.
I have a busy life.
things move so fast, and I just do my best,
And smile.
And sometimes not (of course).
Because it is not a part of the process or the solution.
All I need to do is relax, and help, and be part of,
Rather than of my own.
I was thinking about how at work, you are part of a team.
You can smile all day, but that does not get the job done.
People count on your to work hard.
And you count on them, the same.
Every time.
I guess I could try to say everything.
Which is dangerous, i know.
I mean, interpetations, are everywhere.
Who gets to decide the frame of reference.
And should it even matter.
I mean really, should it even matter.
As a child I was told many things, for my own good.
Some of them true, some of them not.
I was told it was either out of love (sometimes).
Other times because it was what they
wanted me to know,
what they felt I could handle.
What they needed me to believe.
So what is the point of all that,
I mean really. Should I say everything.
And what is everything. when can you say,
I said it all. When do you know,
when you have shared too much, with nothing left.
No details.
No descriptions.
No feelings.
No gaps. spaces left between the words.
Nothing.
It is even possible.
I mean, to share everything.
I dont think so.
But that is just my personal opinion.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Nothing.

~ Nathan

--- one more, that was a bit gloomy ---

05-04-09 "Poetry Writing"

To be (a poet)
Or not to be (a poet)
That is the question.
To be (a poet)
Or not to be (a poet)
A question I find a amusing right now.
To be (a poet)
Or not to be (a poet)
Funny, at least it can be.
To be (a poet).
Or not to be (a poet).
That ...
well...
Is a question, but a silly one.

Nathan