Hello everyone, it’s Wednesday – poetry time!
First off, I’d like to say thank you to all that submitted their poetry. Not only were all of your pieces great, I recognize that it takes a degree of courage to give your work to someone to be judged. I really want to thank you for sharing, though, because some of those pieces were really quite inspiring and inspired me to try new things.
Also, if I did not choose your piece, please do not fret. There is still a chance that it will be picked on a future week.
Right, so for my first ever mid-week poetry piece, I am sharing this incredible poem written by Observing Vessel, about expression and confinements. The thing about this piece is that it really flows in an unusual way. For myself, I felt as though I was floating through the piece at a blissfuly, leisurely pace. Better yet, the words ring with a truth that can easily shift one’s perspective. So please, scroll down and read it.
There is an art to everything,
and everything can sell.
What was once an art, is now a science
and very little is left sacred.
Fear of the unknown is cause for defence;
this defence is a boundary.
We label the spaces between the boundaries,
neatly boxed up.
We crave a sense of value;
I am not sure.
We put value in the spaces;
then value the label.
What is it we are left with?
A neatly packaged product
to keep the fear at bay.
What we cannot see is unknown
and what is unknown still exists, whether or not we fear it.
There is a pill to suppress the fear;
money, the placebo.
And in return;
a neatly packaged product for you to entertain.
I’m tired of the boxes, for there are too many.
They clutter my life space leaving no room to breath
and even less space for growth.
My expression cannot live.
Once it has birthed it is immediately packaged up
in a box,
in a space
with a label,
where I put my value,
but the label is valued more.
Very little is sacred;
left to be.
Why can’t it wander for what it is?
My expression is meant for living,
I want it a life.
Free to wander and be
not enclosed in a box;
in a space between boundaries,
with a label.
What kind of life is that?
I rather have my expression nameless and free
than sitting in a box,
in a space between boundaries.
I am becoming unproductive.
Right, so that’s that for today. Tune in next week for more poetry. And if you have some poetry you want to share, here are the instructions. Thanks again, everybody, see you tomorrow!