Hello my poetic peeps!
My latest poem is one that questions what is ordinary. What does ordinary really mean, in respect to our experiences? Do any of us really live an ordinary life?
My inspiration came from Cynthia’s post at Words + Images that I read this morning. Please check out her site as it has wonderful photography.
My experiences are anything but ordinary
Over the span of the last few years,
When my mind moved from coma to
The currents of water that tumbled down my cheeks
Into pools that developed at my pillow.
When Friend A tried to compare his past to
I did not understand what the measurements would be.
Does a tear have more pounds than a loss?
Can a wrongdoing elbow out an inflated ego?
I now take my elbow on my own to the supermarket.
Friend A soon left the room on his own.
My experiences are pieces of perception that
Do not balance well with others.
My memories play nice only when they play alone.
My eyes interlock with the glue of compromise
As I piece together my memories with my responsibilities for
My arms and for the hands that connect.
I refuse to play pretend for you anymore.
©2013 Christy Birmingham
This is christyb wishing you a day free from comparisons yet laden with love.