Poetry is the heart of literature. A story is fine, a poem reaches the soul quickly eliciting raw emotion, and a Poem that is story Rules!
Words Have Limitations
Often true intentions cannot escape
Rehearsed stories on a page that do not equate
Definitively to what in the heart and mind takes place.
Searching for connection readers learn to extrapolate.
Honing the skills of shaping a story can take a lifetime to relate
Adequately to the audience an author's meaning in any true state
Verse and pros must do more than tell a story but must create
Emotional links with readers whose imagination then take shape.
Looking into the pathos of my writer's heart as of late
It is a welcomed challenge to reveal my tell to satiate
Mental burnings of the tale of my sojourn in life. Anticipate
IIndelible impression of what life means to me intimate
Tastes of the struggle of bearing off the inner recess of inordinate
Amounts of experiences. By firsthand explaining how people wait
Teaming with unexpressed tales can be refugees inside. A debate
I experienced though surrounded by loving support in the wake
Of loss and self-doubt. It is easy to unknowingly graduate
Nose first into the lie that life is not ours to own. In order to navigate
Safely to being heroes of our life--good with bad, we integrate.
Create in Us at Times
Casting up old tales of hurt and happiness bring perspective.
Rarely, I suppose, writers create works on lives not lived.
Entertainment media exposes Western society to the narrative
Actively experienced by all story, movie, song, what you will.
Tentatively we lend our lives to view through eyes of creative
Effect that spawn narratives reimagined to express writing skills.
Imagination is not limited to the things we create ex-nill.
New tales from old connect us as familiarity upon our souls distill.
Understanding that words form a part of what makes stories relative
Sets the stage to use society's canvas as the adjective explicative.
A shared experience is the foundation upon artistic directives
To touch the lives of others. Some get it some have no idea.
Tasked are the artists to make the tale relatable in splendid
Inclusive newness that builds a reader's latent detective skill.
Mentally and emotionally drawing him or her in, hearts that swill
Enough to let the reader give over his or her gentile
Soul to the experience of the creator or recreator's inner expositive.
Prisoners of the Mind
Perhaps the most disturbing thing to consider is how to share.
Responsibility for how the tale is told will determine how aware
Intelligently we are. Goals not reached caused me to stare,
Searching my soul to reveal how mental entrapment came to rear
Odiously out citizenry in my life story as the hero there.
No person aims to become victim in a story of life for him or her.
Essentially a series of events building a false narrative transpire
Retching away at the mind until nothing seems left save failure.
Solemn impassioned anguish felt I a prisoner in emotional amber.
Odd to show no emotion yet show a full array of clear
Forensic evidence of heartache to the thoughtful investigator.
Trapped in my mind, I felt a need to depend on the Savior
Helping me survive the prison my shattered dreams created there.
Every prayer and plea to God fell to silent returns, me, in despair.
Memories of my goals called from the past. In my heart, I swear
Inspiration to find a way for me to rise from brimstone fire
Nawing from the inside out at my soul to reach for the higher
Destiny I seek. Freedom from a mental prison. Not a refugee there.
Inescapable are the scars we carry on our souls of life.
Respectfully, inescapable are joys that walk with us through strife.
Effulgent waves of happiness & azure walls of wo compete despite
Fierce attempts to grasp at either the dark or light.
Universally we emotionally being similar is no roll of dice.
God intends we experience the range of emotion and try
Earnestly to understand each other's joy and pain to supply
Every person empathy to become as He is, God-like.
Will be the Hero
Weapons formed will not prevail.
Institutions oppressing us will fail.
Love and joy to what Avail?
Life eternal! This life in comparison pales.
Blessed falling off the scales
Encumbering my vision to life all hail!
Toward success like comets trail
Heavenly is the front I am the tail.
Earth is my school; I will succeed I am compelled.
Having my story before the world sail
Enjoining catharsis as the words I tell
Riveting pathos to the scale
Of meeting the minds of all above micro-moments in hell
Of my Life's Story
Opportunity to improve despite an environment of requited doom
Fleeced in the love of God to escape the temporary life of gloom.
Manmade hope in this world that cankers the soul too soon
Yonder sits a light of hope representing a changing cocoon.
Lovingly this cocoon encapsulates each moment in life's dew
Inoculating the soul of each refugee who perseveres through
Faithfully enduring the dark while consuming the light too.
Existential reasoning we surpass as truth reveals who
Serendipitous to us now the five senses give no true clue
Stellar children of light who lived life before any of us knew
Tragedy and death and hurt, being a celestial brew.
Optimism in life as I read the scriptures we accrue
Royal blessing from God to be heroes true blue!
You can be the hero of your life story like me, adieu.
Words have limitations--create in us sometimes prisoners of the mind. I, Refugee, will be the hero of my life's story.
© 2018 Rodric Anthony Johnson
Rodric Anthony Johnson (author) from Surprise, Arizona on November 04, 2018:
I appreciate your wisdom and comment on this poem. I am still a little concerned it was too long.
manatita44 from london on November 04, 2018:
We are all prisoners of fate. It dances on our foreheads. Good to see that you have a faith and seem happy with same. Some philosophical and everyday aspects come through in your poetry. Nice acrostic poem.
We are all subjected to the whimsical nature of the mind. Being aware of its traps and confusion is cool, as this will ultimately help us to discriminate. Peace, my Brother.
Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on October 31, 2018:
Hello, Rodric, since the poem s divide into sections, Ilike the format. Thank you
Rodric Anthony Johnson (author) from Surprise, Arizona on October 31, 2018:
Thanks for reading and commenting Miebakagh. I realize afterward that my poem is long! I tried to write an article in poem form, like an epic poem, but not epic per se.
Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on October 30, 2018:
Hey, Rodric, "will be the hero" specifically fascinated me. Thanks for sharing.