Poetry in less than 10 mins, just for practice. It helps to sit outdoors and look for stories hidden in plain sight.
I might make another post describing my “Spiritual” journey, considering the contents are slightly different from what I’m attempting to write here. If I don’t, I hope someone holds me up to it.
A sequel to Art Burglar. This one’s dedicated to Maya Angelou, Walt Whitman, Arthur Conan Doyle, John Keats, all the giants of the past, but is most importantly dedicated to….YOU. Yes, YOU, the one reading this right now. This one’s for you.
This is a satire about some (but not all) people, usually amateurs, in the pick-up artists community, as well as other guys in general who try to seduce women without necessarily connecting with them at a human level.
I’ve neither written this as a means to offend women, nor to disparage the pick-up artists community as a whole.
Please read with an open mind.
This poem is based on a blog-post written by a friend named Aashna Iyer. Let’s just say, at the time of writing, I was suffering from chronic depression.
When writing my story, just on a whim, I decided to turn my primary protagonist from male to female. While much of the plot remains the same, I noticed something about myself that startled me.
My character was stronger, and more dynamic, and no longer eclipsed by the secondary protagonist. Which made me realize that this character had similar traits as my other female protagonists in other stories.
A late tribute to the late Maya Angelou. May she rest in peace. This might manifest into a longer poem of its own in the future.
There’s something more
That you ought to know
There was a greater play
That was written before
Your life was even your own.
Now that you turn the next stone,
Play your greatest score
And carve your lore
In the heart of life, as it walks out the door,
After it screams, “ENCORE!”
Your score will be played again.
New lad, new spirit. But the same violin.
My first blog post, and it’s long and unrefined. This post manifested from a beautiful conversation I’ve recently had with a friend. Brace yourselves!
Throughout my life, I’ve met many people who dream of being rich and famous — and it’s a no-brainer that almost everyone wants to be rich and famous. Many of them have their different reasons behind these wants. A lot of them, like Kevin MacLeod, merely want to be recognized for the beautiful works they do. Many also seem to want a life of luxury, where their need of comfort (we could debate if such an art is soulless, but that’s for another topic) is what drives their art. Many others want to simply “follow the social ladder” of popularity as the norms have encouraged.
And some are simply afraid of oblivion.