Thursday, June 7, 2012

Rising Up: A Poem


So I haven't posted on here in a long time. And that's entirely my fault. To tell you the truth, there hasn't been much to post about. With summer here, writing is taking precedence; and writing posts go to Teenage Writer. But the proud, the few, still follow this blog, eh?

Guess what? I'm going to subject you to a horrible bit of poetry. Happy birthday.

However, the poem is a rather serious and heartfelt one. In it, I ventured, through a series of words and vibrant pictures, to help the reader feel what I mean, rather than tell them. Thus, I wrote it in sloppy rhyme-and-meter. To get the best results, you can read the poem aloud in a fast manner.

--

Rising Up

I open my eyes, take a look around
Hearing not a rustle, hearing not a sound
I used to see in grey, but now—but now
I can see! is it not so? listen how
I found in surrender I was strong
I found submission in my song
Because really, is silence better than sound?
Open your eyes, take a look around.

Blinding, I'm finding
The euphoria is rising
It's crazy, hazy
But colorful as lightning
Can you hear it?
Can you see it?
It comes from within
The liquid burns
My heart churns
But I'm rising again.

Don't listen to the voices coming in the night
They're telling you to quit, that everything's all right
Don't be content with the way things are
They don't worry about the future 'cause they can't see that far
They say to look away and always leave it be
But what they don't realize is that these chains are breaking free
We can't quit, never, because nothing's ever right
Don't listen to the voices that are coming in the night.

It's blazing, and crazing
The flames are burning hot
It's calling, I'm falling
But more often than not
I hear it
I see it
It's coming from within
The flame burns
My soul yearns
Rising up again.

We'll never be content, we'll always be the rebel
We're warriors on enemy grounds, fighting off the devil
But rising up, it's burning out, it can never rest
The spirit of eternity and spirit of the blest
Don't wait for it, run, run until you faint
To victory is running the ever-burning saint
Wake up, don't sleep, 'cause here comes the devil
Never be content with sin, always be the rebel.

It's pouring rain, insane
Never let it stop
It's calling, I'm crawling
I'll make it to the top
I'll never sleep
And though I weep
It's coming from within
My passion burns
My spirit yearns
And I will rise again.

My passion burns
My spirit yearns
I'm rising up again.

--

Do you feel what I meant to say? What does the poem tell you?

And what do you think I ought to post about on this poor blog? *glances at the dusty, forlorn thing fondly*

--
Jake

4 comments:

Eruantien Nenharma said...

That was beautiful, Jake. : ) I get what it's trying to say, but I can't find the words to tell what I heard...if that makes any sense. : /

Hmm...I'm not quite sure, as my blogs tend to be very dusty and forlorn as well. More poetry, perhaps? I'd like that. XD

Squeaks said...

That was amazing, Jake! I really liked it and I loved the change in the meter. It sounds rather lilting yet definitely serious. I'm gonna think about this one for a bit :P

As for suggestions as to what you should post on this blog...I think it should be MORE POETRY :D :P I love your poetry :)

Signed with much fluff,
Squeaks.

Eldra said...

Wow, what an incredible poem, Jake! To be honest, it's exactly what I needed to hear right now...

As for posting... how about pictures of Africa?

Jake said...

So it takes me two weeks to respond... *headdesk*

Indeed, Squeaks? I often post poetry on here because sometimes I don't know what to post. O_o I'll keep that in mind.

Eldra: oh, I'd swamp you guys with all the pictures stories I'd post, along with their stories. Unfortunately, pictures take unbelievably long to upload - and since my sister's camera is big and high-quality, it has high-quality pictures that take the better part of half an hour to upload.