I haven't posted in a very long time. Lately, quite frankly, I haven't had the time to come on here. I really didn't like it, but with things like exams I didn't have the time to. I'm terribly sorry, if it annoyed you.
From A Single Glance Between Strangers To An Eternal Stare Shared Between Friends
The first thing I see is their Eyes
Each person, so different in their appearance, both physical, and spiritual.
Each face, begging to tell their story, of love, of pain, of hope and of despair.
Experiences shared, tales of a lifetime past, now relived, remembered.
To drink in each memory, their words the cup, and their Eyes the fountain from which this water pours.
One person shares with me their experiences in war, where each minute spent asleep is a safe
heaven, and every second spent awake, a living hell.
Another tells me a love story, when life was so lighthearted, when nothing could ever go wrong,
A small paradise in a turbulent world.
Then I hear of dark times, where each mental wound was as hurtful as a physical cut, where the
feelings Of apathy and depression reigned supreme.
I listen to each story, wishing I had listened to the stories of people past met.
Before I leave, I feel the feeling in their Eyes,
Each pair of Eyes, portals to their soul,
A silent soul, crying to be heard, yet left unheard, until it finds itself, again.
Two of the same soul, slowly being drawn towards each other, in this lonely world, or so it seems.
A single soul, containing two separate stories.
A single soul, inhabiting two bodies, inseparable.
All because of two pairs of Eyes, meeting each other, and a story told.
Inspired by:
“Friendship is one soul shared in two bodies.” - Aristotle
All right, now for the real purpose of this post. I'm confused a little bit about where my writing is going, and if I'm progressively getting better or not. My goal of this writing is to both get better, and maybe for the enjoyment of others. I'm open to suggestions as to what I should start doing more or less of. If there was ever a time for criticism, it's now, so please, lay it on me. Thanks, all.
--Dilpreet R.
It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring. -Carl Sagan
Times change, worlds change, but people, people never change.
What had started as an arduous project is now one of my passions. I love to write; this is where I try to paint pictures--with words. I'm a sophomore in high school, if you're wondering.
Need to contact me for some reason? My email is dsrandhawa3244@gmail.com.
Posted by
Dilpreet
1 comments:
I think this is the sentiment you wish to convey, the raw feelings written really as a journal entry, but not really with a poetic sense to me. Now I could easily be wrong, as I often am, but I would prefer an image, a concrete scene that invokes these same thoughts, causes me as the reader to conclude these feelings without telling me outright what to think about. Does that make sense? It may only be my preference, but I enjoy poems more when I have to ask myself what it means, where I can meet it half way, and fill in the blanks, or just hold that image in my mind's eye, and enjoy the feeling it evokes. That's one of the things I like about Eliot. His poems are that way to me:
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, (7) come from the dead
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"--
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all."
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