Time for me has been slow
it has come to a point most days
and in the midst of it all
I know what pulls at my heart
I can't share my joys with you
nor my fears as I have many
it is a feeling of uneasy grief
and it never leaves my spirit
The only thing that keeps me going is Love
the love of my wife and daughters
whom when you are asked about I choke up
and once again my heart fails me
I can't speak the words only hold back emotions
with those emotions I let my love speak for me
and the only thing that plays in my mind
is I miss you
I know you'd want me happy
I know that I selfishly hold you tight as if you are here
but what is your son to do with this pain
but bandage the wounds and keep pushing through
You left too soon is all I can think
and in the midst of that all my brothers and sisters know this to be true
That it hurts everyday knowing we cant even speak to you
and so here I am and here they are trying to hold on to a shaky happiness
But I do it mom everyday, fight to remember your love
fight to hold on to a broken me
even when I know till this day I am missing a piece of myself
ill do it for you and never stop missing you.
About the Creator
Quentin woodard
I am the Poetic Lyricist. I am a Poet, father of twins, and Husband to a loving Wife. My words come from my experiences, some from inspiration, and more from what I see on a daily. Welcome to me and be inspired. IG:poeticlyricist.
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli3 days ago in Poets
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