Past Brilliance Part I

It's been quite a long time since my last entry. Things have been crazy these past few weeks and they only promise to get more chaotic, so I thought that while I have a moment, I'd share some of my writing from last year for a class I took. I think I'll break it up between the three final entries I turned in for my final portfolio. Here's the poetry section:

 “Row 24”

Polar opposites sit on either side.

One has chosen to opt for sanity

and drifts off to a world of dreams,

wishful thinkings, and faraway lands.

SILENCE.

The other is enjoying a rather

catchy beat if the rhythm her

foot is tapping on my leg is

any clue. Head bobbing,

fingers drumming, she allows

her mind to wander to

wherever the music takes her.

ENERGY.

Her head rests on her hand.

A sweater gently enfolds her

as her mind floats elsewhere.

Hair cascades down her face

as she slowly breathes in and out.

TRANQUILITY.

Her clothes shout even louder

than the baby a few aisles back.

She can’t stop moving, for the

music sends a pulse through her soul

that is just as alive as the one

flowing through her body.

LIFE.

And yet both sit on either side, allowing life to take them wherever it pleases.

*             *             *

True Art

The crowd applauds.

A cheer here,

a shout there.

And then silence.

Not a sound escapes a single mouth.

Breath itself is scarce.

Yet the players never stop

running back and forth,

emitting unearthly grunts with each swing.

Their feet, endless whirls of color,

pound the surface.

Rackets are swung with immeasurable force

And as they fly through the air,

they meet the only thing standing in the way

of victory and their wielder:

An opponent that lacks size

but is almost impossible to control perfectly.

A deceiving ball of fuzz

That never tires
and holds the power to determine the difference

between victory and defeat.

*             *             *

The Magical World of the Sky

A different world above the clouds.

A place without hurt, anger, or crowds.

Eternally weightless and ever-serene.

A utopia that shimmers with its own glorious sheen.

Floors of white cotton with softness assured.

The world down below is misty and blurred.

Occasional mountains, towering bright,

Displaying majesty, brilliance, and might.

Walls don’t exist; this world never ends.

No restrictions apply. Rules die, law bends;

Just clouds that lie dormant, suspended in time,

Forever revolving, effortless, sublime.

A world of pure light, of multiple shades;

The sun forming rainbows that fall in cascades.

The sun’s gold is here too. It takes up all space.

It kisses the clouds and caresses the sky’s face.

It flies through the air, illuminating each crack,

Beating darkness to rubble, not leaving its track.

Fear shudders and leaves, imagination roams free.

Confinement’s not here: only His cousin to see.

Yet mystery still exists. Its presence is sly,

For this is the magical world of the sky.