Dark Poetry: Lying here



Lying here

Lying here

I am lying here

Where you left me

Perfectly still

Frozen in time

Until you return to me


I am lying here

The way you left me

Ruthlessly broken

Becoming undone

Until you find me


I am lying here

Victim to a passionate crime

My mind is gone

My soul is shattered

Until the end of time…

– Just Patty –

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Why Poetry Matters


Sometimes people like to horrify me by saying they don’t like poetry.  When I respond, I try to school my facial expression into the accepting smile of Oprah on a good day.

Mostly, though, I’m baffled.

Poetry defines a vast stretch of the written word.  Sometimes it’s meant to rhyme, sometimes it’s meant to be spoken, sometimes it tackles serious issues, and sometimes it delves into nothing more important than the lack of passes at girls who wear glasses.

Poetry is everywhere.  It’s the heart of the song that you say is the heart of you.  It’s the lyrical meanderings of a hobbit named Bilbo, and the stark call to arms of a soap maker named Tyler.  It is the title of a painting that moves you to tears and the inscription on your wedding ring.  It is folded gently into our holiest of books and our most precious of…

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