I was talking to a friend about playing at open mics. He was talking to me about hearing people play their original songs and what a personal experience that is. He also brought up the idea of how people who share their poems at these open mics are so brave: that reading a poem is possibly more personal than playing an original song. This got me thinking. I love writing so much, but generally never share my writing with others: I think it's because I am insecure with my writing abilities. I am afraid that harsh criticism might spoil my interest in writing. But today I have decided to be brave and share some selected writings. Some are old (as old as 4 years) and others are new (the most recent dating back only a few weeks ago).
I don't think myself to be some great author, or even particularly gifted in the area, but I do enjoy it. So here is my humble offering into the literary world. Please be kind with any comments, it's hard to put my writing 'out there' like this.
What is your biggest fear?
don't leave me alone with my thoughts
they engulf my body in a pool.
It hurts to open my eyes.
Everything is hazy
and the prettiest song of a bird is
swallowed by the water's silence.
I hold my breath
A brilliant light flickers- calling me back
but I sink as the day grows dark
my arms fight and reach out
but there is nothing to grasp.
When will the tide lower?
When will I hear the songbird again?
In those still moments before a storm everything is thick with tension.
The thunder sets the stage,
the wind chimes stretch before their dance,
and the birds greedily snatch food before they take their seats.
A few drops to start.
Everything is quiet except the rapidly approaching thunder.
Breeze sweeps through the trees.
Suspended in time,
to be released.
Come great Thunder and Rain,
the world waits for its release.
Silence calls on the mountain tops
The stillness beckons my soul
I am alive in a world of dreams
I am awakened by pure beauty
A holy contradiction rests in the mountains
I live and die
I am inspired and still
I breathe and lose my breath
Cover me Fog that I might find eternal peace.
-2009 *Set in a choral piece by Joshua Hartman
Sometimes I wish I could walk the whole world, but I would be so bored after I finished.
Sometimes I wish I could read your thoughts, but you would lose all your mystery.
I am glad some goals are unobtainable, it means I will always have something to aim for.
Every time I begin a new chapter of my life I worry that it won't be nearly as good as my last- usually I am wrong.
from the ground
up into the
but three words
like a bright white
The ducks flocked around him like kids at a parade. He doled the bread out as fairly as he could, not neglecting the little ones too small to fight for their food. He continued to toss the bread as he headed over to another area. He stayed until all the bread was gone, methodically tossing the pieces. His feet crunched over the leaves as he reached for another loaf of bread. He passed it off to a father, whose daughter came barreling towards him with giddy delight grasping for the bread. He grabbed another loaf from the box talking casually to his companions. He headed to another spot along the river near the bridge and continued to toss his humble offering into the water. He distanced himself again, entering another world where only his hands, the bread, and the hungry mouths of ducks existed. Somehow he felt more at home with these desperate creatures than he did with his smiling, chatty companions. He threw the last piece reluctantly and headed back to reality. The reality of a life trapped by walls, full of complications, limited to travel only where the bridge would let him pass.
She shivered and picked up her things as the shade rudely interrupted her daydream. A few more feet over and she would be safe again, at least for a few more moments before the sun slipped behind another tree. She twirled her pen quietly looking around. She took a sip of her iced coffee, full of regret for not choosing a hot drink. Setting her gaze on the water she watched two ducks glide effortlessly across the crystal surface. 'So simple, elegant, and effortless to the world, all the while pumping their feet as fast as they could to stay afloat' she thought with her eyes fixed on their easy movement. She smiled and considered how we as people are just like these ducks: we try our best to appear put-together, figured out, and like we can move through our life effortlessly, all the while hiding away our tired, pedaling feet, working hard to stay afloat and keep up appearances. The wind brushed her cheek coldly and her numb hands told her it was time to go. She packed away her journal and pen and slung her bag over her shoulder: walking away from the park but not leaving the image of the ducks behind.
That is all I will share today. I am sure that these aren't perfect. Probably full of grammar and punctuation error, but what I am sharing is not supposed to be perfect and polished, but rather raw and real thoughts and ideas. I am feeling scared to publish this post, but I want to overcome the fear of sharing my thoughts and writing. Through sharing and revisiting- I am sure I can make my future writing better.
*All original thoughts and words by Danielle Montgomery- please do not copy without permission.