Ah the art of poetry…who knew I was a poet and I know it

Good evening kitty kats! Hope you had a great Tuesday…I think it’s Tuesday…it is Tuesday right? Sometimes I get the days mixed up but oh well, I usually find out sooner or later what day it is and I am only off by a day or two! 🙂

Well, it’s November and that means only one thing…no not turkey…cold weather! I am not an ice ice baby, I don’t like snow and building snowmen and igloos…I want palm trees and a tropical breeze…hey that rhymes! Imagine that!

Yeah, I am not much on the cold and I believe the cold is the true definition of Hell. It’s not fire and brimstone down there, burning flames and heat…oh no…Hell is freezing cold weather, high winds and on top of that cold, miserable and blowing rain!

Anyhoo…nothing I can do about that!

As you know, I am a writer…I wrote my first story when I was about eight years old. It was a short horror story called, “LILY WAS A WITCH” and it was about a little girl who lived in a family of witches and it dealt with her struggles of trying to fit into a life filled with “normal” people.

Once I began to write, I couldn’t stop. It was like a drug, an addiction, my own personal brand of herion (okay I stole that line from Twilight) but that’s what it was like for me.

I soon began filling up box after box after box of stories, poems and even songs! Can you believe I still have them all? Yes, the show “Hoarders” is looming…

When I was about 14 and in the 9th grade, I wrote a poem called “SCREAMS OF NO REPLY” and it was created out of a simple line I heard in an Aerosmith song, “Kings and Queens.” If you know me at all, you know that they have been my all time favorite band since I was 10 and I know their songs front ways, side ways, back ways and all ways.

The poem was a dark and spooky thing and as I read it to my parents, they looked at each other and seemed impressed. Hey Micky they liked it! But aren’t your parents supposed to like everything you do?

Well, coming from a dad who told me every day that I should be Miss America, I believed every word he told me.

However, just to be on the safe side, I took the poem to school and showed it to my favorite teacher in my favorite class, Miss Niekirk, my 9th grade English teacher. She read the poem and said, “You wrote this?”

I nodded then she asked me if she could make a copy of it. I agreed.

The next thing you know, she had had it published in the local newspaper! I got so many phone calls and comments about it, I felt like a celebrity!

I knew right then and there that I wanted to be…had to be…needed to be…a writer.

I started off my teen years with the desire to be a super model and marry a rock star and I thought I could be a famous writer on the side and it will all be good.

I spent most of my teenager time in total angst crying over some dumb boy or that phone call that never came and like a lot of writers, I did my best work when I was miserable.

I was forever 17 and heartbroken so I used it to my advantage and I wrote about the pain and heartache of being a girl.

I still have that poem (and all the others) and will have to dig it out and show it to you however tonight I have some other goodies to share with you.

One is a poem I called “SERENITY” and I wrote it with someone in mind who shall remain nameless. Nameless because he is a nobody from the shadows of my former life and does not deserve to be called out by name. The title came from a Godsmack (one of my favorite bands) song of the same name and it suits the sentiment of the poem and was called that for another reason and that too shall remain nameless.

Serenity

In your arms there is a serenity that is no where else on earth. I am at peace. I can breath that one simple sigh of relief knowing that I am loved by you. And in that exhale, that one long pause, I can feel your breath in mine.

In your presence my heart can beat again and my veins are filled with the scarlet liquid that sustains me and keeps me alive another day to be near you.

In your life I am safe and bound to the promise that I will be forever in your care. I love you and nothing else matters.

In your soul is where I reside and dwell in the humble abode of your body and in my soul there is a room for you as well. We are meant to be as one and as one we shall walk this earth together.

In your smile is a place where I can run away and hide and feel the comfort of just being alive. Far away from the sin of being human and at fault for loving you.

Your touch is reminiscent of a day gone by, another time perhaps when we loved as strangers brought together again in this life as friends. Soul mates whom no man can put asunder. Nothing can tear us apart.

When your lips are barely even near mine, my lungs fill with what seems like God’s own breath. And I know in that one single moment that you are an angel come to carry me to Heaven disguised as the devil who will drag me through Hell.

Copyright © Lisa V. Proulx

Another little diddy I like was written with another person in mind. My ex was a rock star who asked me to write a song for his band. I came up with this and it fit his life and his past although he didn’t like it and thought it wasn’t heavy enough. Well excuse me!

It’s called “DUST TO DUST”…

  DUST TO DUST
                                           
Dust to Dust
Sin to Sin
Of all the places I have been
Hell has been the worst for me
Look what good intentions did…for me…

Look what I’ve become
A nightmare on society
The beast alone has done
What man has tried for centuries

No one I can say
Can save me from my wicked ways
Hold your hymns and praise
Look to yourself on Judgment Day

Was a preacher’s son
Had the good book thrown at me more than once
Heard my daddy say
The demons he saw were here to stay

No one I can say
Can save me from these evil days
Hold your hymns and praise
Look to yourself on Judgment Day

Now that I am gone
Left my name to carry on
Heed the words I say
Man has made the only way

There’s ways to win and lose
Wisely look before you choose
            The road to Hell is paved                         
With good intentions all the way

Dust to Dust
Sin to Sin,
Hell is still the worst place…I’ve been

Copyright © Lisa V. Proulx

Until next time…keep writing!

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And as always, thank you for your continued love and support! 🙂

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(¸.·´ (¸.·’*Lisa¸.·*´¨)

“You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering.” – Henri Frédéric Amiel

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “Ah the art of poetry…who knew I was a poet and I know it

  1. Aaah…those 17 year old pieces about a love gone wrong are always the best! lol Thank you for sharing

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