A poem and a doodle.
She left today, she could not stay
No longer could she dwell
Though she said naught, her heart was caught
Escape or stay in hell
To wear it all, she would but fall
She knew she had to flee
Although she's left, my heart it wept
Her flight it was from me
She loves me so, of this I know
I understand her plight
She runs to life, away from strife
I watch til out of sight.
Powerful! The catatonic look is captivating. Well done!
@girlbeforemirror,
Arresting theme is one understands what underlies the sentiment.
Quill
Purely fictional, but yes emotive.
@girlbeforemirror,
"Emotive" ... very.
Fictional or not, it feels real ... and that's the trick. I saw this poem as if I was viewing it with my own eyes ... despite the fact that there was not a single visual cue throughout. It triggered my mind to 'create a scene' that could 'hold the story.'
That's ENGAGEMENT. When a person's mind becomes that involved, the story becomes 'theirs too' as they become co-authors in its creation. This is powerful mojo and the most any poet can ever hope for.
Quill
It was most definitely tethered to reality. That is the key. Draw on your experience and ambiguously utilise it's affect, then deny that it is yours.
All "art" is a dimension of self portraiture or perhaps in writing self projection. It gives you permission however to distance yourself and claim fiction.
I used a tag to that effect at some point, something like realityhidinginfiction... Or something similarly self indulgent .
Listen to me rattling on like a 5am precoffee o'clock free-form write. Can you tell I just woke from a Sunday arvo nap?
That dog! I mean princess Billie had me up half the night.
@girlbeforemirror,
Generally agreed ... although my fart poem, while grounded in reality, was a pretty long stretch from "Paul." :-)
That's called being ... a Mom. :-)
Quill