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Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Fully Empty, another typographic poem from my early youth

This one is more or less the same style as 'The Gift's Curse' (my oldest poem in English from when I was 14), but I think it's the youngest of the two, but not by much difference. Can't be sure though, it's so long ago. My older work kind of makes me blush with embarassment, I wasn't sure I'd ever post these anywhere, but what the heck, they're part of process that led me to where I am and I vital one at that.




Fully Empty


Strange & thrilling feeling,
                                           so deep inside.
I feel…
            empty,
                        yet so full
                                  full of things
                                            things that are in fact
                                                                              the essence of nothing.
Can’t think
                  clearly,
Can’t see,
          hear,
          speak,
   only sense.              
I want to express,
   want to explode,
                              but everything I want to throw out,
                                                     becomes an implosion.
So much to do,
so much to achieve,
                               but this bitter,
                                                     scorching,
                                                                       crawling,
                                                                                      scratching
                                                                                                          hollowness
claws at my heart,
fills my chest…
Like a warlord surrounding a stronghold.
I want to cry,
  want to scream,
but it just doesn’t
                                   go
                                               away.


6 comments:

  1. Hey this is pretty good for 14, better than what I probably did at that age and English is my first language!

    I like the image of the warlord in his stronghold and the line:

    but everything I want to throw out,
    becomes an implosion.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It seems that some of what we do, which we put off as 'juvenalia' is actually, when we look upon it later, really good stuff. We may be embarrassed by it, but it represents a time and place that we can never retrieve again for it represents our youth, in all of its emotions upon our sleeves kind of way.
    Anyway, I guess that's a roundabout way of saying that I like it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Fourteen and writing like that? Nice.
    I feel like it's almost raw emotion at the start and at the end. I don't know, that might just be me.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hey guys,

    I'm glad you like it. Looking back, to me, it looks more like uncontrolled madness and fury, jamming too much in together. It sure felt good getting things like this out of my system though, writing was my only outlet. Still is the most important one.

    At least I don't regret posting these now. I'm always pretty self-conscious about the produce of my teens. My mentor always told me that to outsiders, you'll only be as good as your worst, and she has a point. But I can't just bury some of what I poured my heart and soul in, in oblivion. I'm a bit weary of rewriting it, it's something sacred now, a testimony of an age gone by.

    Thanks for always being there for me. You have no idea how it helps having this.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I really enjoyed it! You're right this is part of your growth as a writer and thanks for sharing it.
    I thought it really expressed the emotion of emptiness you could feel as a teenager - it speaks to the one I was anyway.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hello, Marie!

    And you're right. I'll be some time before anyone ever sees my Dutch pre-teen work though... I'm thinking of taking that with me to the grave. Literally.

    And I had a difficult time as a teenager, it wasn't exactly easy. I had a lot of negative emotional stuff going on. I think must of us on here do, but it makes us better writers for it.
    Sorry to hear your early years weren't sunny either, Marie. At least all of us found each other now :)

    ReplyDelete

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