All I Need is a Mental Echo ~I can smell it a mile away inside my brain~ Poetry~

Greetings, current and future poetry lovers! 

Hello to you, and I hope you are well! Right now, I have a headache, but other than that, I’m doing pretty OK, for which I am grateful. I’m always in the mood for some poetry though!  🙂

 

Today’s poem is more of a ramble. The cool thing about poetry is that there are many forms and even more people daring to expand the art.


It depends on the person and how they create their craft, and poetry IS art.

 

Possibilities are endless with poetry

 

There are both sides to the idea of what poetry should look like. I enjoy it in many forms, just like I have a variety of tastes in life; it goes the same with reading poetic words. 

 

How do you feel about poetry?

 

How do you feel about poetry? Some try to say that poetry is dead, but I know that is not true because I read poetry every day by different authors. I read new pieces, so I know that people create poetry daily.

 

I believe that poetry expands your mind and leaves more room in your heart and soul. It also helps you get the hurt out of your spirit so you can brush off the dust of sorrows and keep going. In fact, why not write a poem today? 🙂

 

Well, here we go…

 

~Poetry~All I Need is a Menacing Mental Echo

 

~I can smell it a mile away inside my brain~~ poetry~~ 

 

 

Photo by JC Gellidon on Unsplash

 

A writer needs to get a thicker skin
since sometimes, the thought of rejection leaves one panicking.

 

Like with any other challenge in life, I think that in the end,
it’s a perfect thing to strive for-
more than a mixture of scribbles with pens.

 

 

Are you sensitive to your detriment?

 

I’ve always been too sensitive,
but I hide out in the bathroom
with my poetry
when things get too intense. 

 

 

At four years old, I climbed a tree stump that went a few feet off the ground, and when I wanted to get down, the ground seemed farther than I remembered. “Daddy!” I screamed, and he came and saved me.

 

 

I miss my dad but know he’s looking down on me.

 

 

When I was very young, the smallest of insects sent me screaming, and I would start crying if a fly got on me or even a tiny little gnat, and I still don’t do very well with them. Once I barely left the house for seven years because of that tick that bit me behind my left ear; he burned it out.

 

 

I have an aversion to quite a few words that I can’t mention because I don’t want to say them out loud in my head. All I need is a menacing mental echo from the visual. 

 

 

I used to watch the sun’s rays and how the dust particles would gather around in a magical type of dance. I went to silver specks of dust, not knowing what they were, and stirred them up in the air. 

 

 

A child entertaining herself with dust- how much more perfect can things be if simple things make me so happy?

 

 

And happiness was never even the goal,
but the Creator gave me more than I prayed for. 

 

 

Patience forms within the waiting,
and if you don’t let it make you bitter,
it will strengthen you and give you more compassion for others.

 

You start to look at people like a song that has been written but still needs some work done.

 

 

And then you practice showing kindness; it stems from the origin of our creation- to give the love we lack until we have no more premise of division.

 

No more excuses, and when we’re done, we’ll do it once again.

 

The war of spreading kindness has begun.
Our enemies will become our friends.
In the end, we’ll know we’ve won,
because we fought with love.

 

 

~Thanks for reading! Until next time, stay safe, and be blessed!~