Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2015 04 24 Poetry: Letters on the Screen April 24, 2015

How did it become the 24th of April so fast? Is this a joke? Someone ripping off two days for each one? Hmmm.

Anyways, hello again. I hope you’re all having an enormously entertaining day.

I don’t know if you’ve ever thought this before, but aren’t letters pretty cool? I mean, without them, there wouldn’t be much communicating between each other. We’d be reverted back to grunting and stuff. I suppose even grunts have letters though. Ugh, for example. It declares a communicative skill of sorts, doesn’t it?

Ok, I admit it. I think I’m losing my mind.

How many letters is that? Are you counting right now? Good then. It appears I may have your undevided attention, or not.

Letters are finite. They line up, one after another to build moments in our lives that are each uniquely different from one another. Without letters, there is no sentence structure, no verse, no, communication, so to speak. Without letters, I’d probably be hauled away for unavoidably pounding away on a keypad built for absolutely nothing in particular.

Just picture it. Ok! You can stop now.

Thanks, and please find the poem pasted below for the 24th of April. It is still National Poetry Month and we’re closing in on the home stretch.

Remember the power of letters. Remember the power of words. Remember not to forget and away we go.

Have a great day, and thanks again.

dp

***

Letters on the Screen

Words that I type can never fully describe just how I feel.
They can never wrap their letters around the lifting tides of emotions.
They can never form the text that tells of the pounding swell of feelings and thoughts. They can never completely tell the tale of a story hidden deep inside.
? They just can’t.

As the letters form on the screen, I wonder if they even come close to the thoughts racing through my wandering mind.
I wonder if they even come close to capturing the highs and lows of the swirling emotions inside me.
I wonder if they even come close to the stories and passages and scripts that are slowly unraveling on the floor.
I wonder if they even come close to the center of it all.
I just wonder.

I search for the letters to form the words that I feel inside.
I search for the text and the phrase that justify the thoughts racing around me.
I search for the metaphors and clichés that define the meaning of everything that I feel.
I search for the truth that lies cleverly woven into the fabric of my life.
I search for it through the spinning hands of the day, and into the countless dreams throughout the night.
And again, I search.

I believe that the hidden lesson will show itself one day.
I believe that the words forming on the screen hold the key to the internal passages.
I believe that if spelled correctly, this life can have many different and wonderful meanings.
I believe that the sound of the keys popping under my fingers is my story calling out.
I believe the words that appear on the screen will open the mind of the quieted child inside.
I just believe.

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