Wednesday With Words: Boots for Birds

I am still gradually working my way through a massive brick-like book containing all of Emily Dickinson’s 1,700+ poems, and while they are all beautiful and very expressive, every once in a while I’ll come across one that really catches my eye. This particular selection has been languishing in my commonplace book for a while now, and I thought I’d finally get around to posting it today. It’s not super profound or thought provoking; it’s just an interesting little word picture that made me smile.

Boots for Birds


On my reading list this week:


Thanks for reading this week’s Wednesday with Words! Are you reading anything interesting this week? Have any book recommendations? Let’s chat in the comments!

See you again soon.

🙂

Wednesday With Words: The Soul at Play

Hey, everyone! This week’s quote is from Emily Dickinson, just in time for World Poetry Day! I’ve been reading through an enormous book containing all of Emily Dickinson’s 1,500+ poems recently, and this really caught my eye:


Emily Dickenson


Thank you so much for reading today’s Wednesday With Words! Sorry it had to be a little shorter today. I hope you enjoyed today’s quote, and Lord willing I’ll have some exciting new posts up soon!

Bye for now!

🙂

Wednesday with Words: I Drove Home

Hey, everyone! Wednesday with Words if finally back. Today I have a very special quote from one of my favorite bloggers, Aimee Meester. She wrote an amazing poem called “I Drove Home” and put it on her blog a couple of months ago. I’ve really wanted to share it with you for a while now, and I guess there’s no time like the present! Make sure you check out the full poem on Aimee’s blog.

I Drove Home


 

Wednesday With Words: A Receiving Heart

Hey, everyone! It’s been a little while since I did a Wednesday with Words post (or posted on this blog at all, to be honest…), so I thought I’d get back in the swing of things today with a few words of wisdom from William Wordsworth:

Wordsworth


On my reading list this week:

Mansfield Park by Jane Austin: I haven’t been reading much besides school books recently, but I have picked up Mansfield Park. I’m currently reading a biography of Jane Austin as well, and its very interesting to see bits and pieces of her life experience show up in her work.


I hope you enjoyed today’s Wednesday with Words! There are tons of exciting things coming up both this month and November, so keep an eye out for that!

See you again soon.

🙂

14528-www2bladydusk

The Poet’s Corner: Autumn Gold

Autumn Gold

Walk down by the riverside

In the rain. Watch the tide

Of current sweeping leaves away

Under skies of frigid gray.

 

The leaves drop down

One by one. They make no sound

As they drop upon the river.

Close your eyes. Freeze and shiver.

 

I stand here in that bone-ache cold.

Please, drown my soul in autumn gold.

Gold washed off the trees by rain

Runs in slurries, leaving stains.

 

A stream of leaves upon the ground.

Wet and crushed and beaten down.

Colors dulled by muddy feet.

Still, leaves fall in rainbow sleet.

 

Shut your eyes. Look away.

The leaves are falling everyday.

Who cares enough to watch them now?

They will always be around.

 

Crush them all beneath your shoes.

Stare at phones. Be amused.

Nature is a worthless bore.

You’ve seen it many times before.

 

Colors blossom on the trees,

But pumpkin spice is all we need.

Seasons pass us all the same,

Measured by our loss and gain.

 

Will someone market me the trees?

Will someone sell us times like these?

Are these times of silent thought

Another thing that can be bought?

 

Distract me now with something new.

Freeze me till my lips turn blue.

Ice my heart and chill my soul.

Turn my eyes from autumn gold.

 

Bow my head. Break my back.

Help me to forget what I lack.

I used to look up at the sky,

But now I watch the ground go by.

 

I tread the leaves into the ground.

The leaves are falling all around.

How long until we will start

To open up our eyes and heart?

 

I hear your voice among the trees.

I hear you call. I whisper, “Please,

Oh, please drown my soul in autumn gold.

I long to see your world unfold.”


Autumn Gold.png

The Poet’s Corner: Welcome the Demons

Welcome the Demons

Alone, in a bubble, at the edge of a room.

I’d come and say hi, but it’s way too soon.

Just let me adjust. Just let my head clear.

Just give me some space over here.

 

The demons, they come, to steal my breath.

They make me feel I’d be better in death.

They hand me a gun. “Pull the trigger,” they say,

“It’s sure to take the pain away.”

 

“You’ll never be normal. You’ll never be loved.

You’ll never be perfect. You’ll always be snubbed.

Nobody loves you. Nobody cares.

Nobody that I’m aware.”

 

So I grip together both of my hands.

I’ll be that girl that no one can stand.

That weirdo girl with her crazy disorder.

“Why can’t she just be normal?”

 

Anxiety eats at my chest and my gut,

As with each breath I am drowning in blood,

And claws climb my throat and strangle my words.

They will not let me be heard.

 

And they all point at that girl over there,

Having a breakdown, hands tangled in hair,

Hoping that pain will do her some good.

Yeah, like it ever would.

 

How to be normal? How to be free?

Can you just tell all your secrets to me?

All that I know is how to be broken,

And tear my dead heart wide open.

 

Do normal people walk around feeling great?

Smile and laugh and stay up too late?

If I stay up late, it’s because of my thoughts.

They like to plague me a lot.

 

So I sit on my heels and rock back and forth,

And cry and cry, for all that I’m worth.

‘Cause I am worth nothing. That’s what they say.

Please just come take me away.

 

I pray to my God, but I’m not sure He hears.

Does He ever think of my pain and my tears?

Or am I just faking? Nobody knows.

Maybe I should just go.

 

I’d like to give you a great fix-all cure.

I’d like to say that I’m perfectly sure

That God has a reason to make us this way.

I’d promise you you’ll be okay.

 

But that would be lying, and I’m not here to lie.

I’m just here to scream, and to whine, and to cry.

I’m here to be empty, cold, gray, and dead,

To show you what’s inside my head.

 

 

When it’s all in your head there’s no way you can run,

And so I stand still on my own in the sun,

Hoping to find some answers in this

Unanswerable empty abyss.

 

God has a reason, I’m pretty  sure,

But right now I don’t really have a good cure.

So I’ll just keep living, just keep holding on,

And praying that hope comes along.


Welcome the Demons

The Poet’s Corner: Autumn

I keep telling myself to write something other than Wednesday with Words posts on here. I’ve always wanted to write a poem about Autumn, because it is my favorite season. Here my attempt for your consideration:

 

Lady Autumn

Young Lady Spring has grown tall.

Summer’s fruit is ripening.

Soon she shall blossom into Fall

The season of cold reckoning.

 

Wheat and corn, rising high,

‘till men cut down the golden wall.

Trees reach up to touch the sky

Soon dying leaves will gently fall.

 

Colors burn before they die,

And drift in banks across the ground.

Like fires shining in the night,

One by one they put them out.

 

Lady Autumn wears her cloak

Of colors, red and orange and gold.

She walks the fields, sowing Hope,

For Spring shall rise when Winter’s old.

 

Seasons cycle, years go by,

Ever old and ever new.

The leaves, still in their banks they lie,

Forgotten, wet by morning dew.

 

When Lady Spring has grown tall,

And Summer’s Sun is brightening,

Clear the way for lovely Fall,

And brilliant colors ripening.

The Poet’s Corner

I’d like to offer a little bit of my own poetry for your consideration, and to get this blog off to a good start. 🙂

 

Glass Towers by Aria Maher

Gleaming spires, rising high.
See these forests of the sky
Built by men who long to fly,
Climbing.

Glassy towers climbing skyward
Ever on and ever upward.
Square and tall and uninspired,
Rising.

Blotting out the shining stars.
Slicing night like ancient scars.
Gracing such a land as ours,
Gleaming.

Cities all will die someday.
Glassy spires shall decay.
What people build will never stay.
Falling.