Again two poems that I wrote a few years ago, this time on the subject of writing. The first one is the first that I wrote (took me a bit of time!) when I started writing poems again after I’d stopped during my studies. They’re a bit old-fashioned in their style and the second one is a bit too simple for my current taste, but I still like their content and meaning 🙂
To live life without torment, without fear,
I put aside the risky and the queer;
No dark alleys and no drinking,
No broken men and no writing –
But fear has come and distress will;
Fear of sicknesses, fear of violences,
Fear of future pains for future losses;
Helpless I wait, dread and stay still –
Lying as wood when one should stand,
Makes a coward as decades blend,
Skin-deep sinks in a bitter smell of fright,
A trail I hope to wash, now that I write.
Reasons to write
If you were to become famous
Alive; what value would it have?
A nicer house maybe you’d have,
Prouder, richer than all of us,
But would you be really happy?
For some say that fame and money
Are there to entertain only,
No lights when you’re sad and lonely,
(Well, this is not completely true)
No knights against Fear and Worry,
So live, enjoy, and stop thinking,
Stop worrying, go on writing
For yourself and yourself only.
Until maybe, maybe, one day,
Someone from his own library,
Will grab inches of ivory,
Hand them to a dear one and say:
I read this book and thought of you,
I’m sure that you will love it too.