I don't write poetry because, on my life, I can't scan or rhyme (tone deaf), so this isn't a poem but just a thought...maybe an idea for a story I'll probably not write, or a graphic I'll probably not create. For now, this is all there is. Something not quite anything at all. Oh well. The Scrapbook 9/24/02 Now, what is this? An old scrapbook Laying on a shelf in my heart? But who am I kidding? Just me. Without opening the pages, I know. The dried petals have turned fragile, The flowers of what might have been, Fed by sad hope, watered by tears. Photos of you, never with me. And those memories there, of course: The first quick glance, the last chaste kiss, The warm touch, the whispering sounds, The delights of discovery, The pain of loss, just one good-bye. It wasnt the fault of a lie. I deceived myself with a dream. Better to be second in love; The first takes far too great a risk. Easy for you to discard me A temporary convenience. Harder to toss your memory No, Ill keep it awhile longer. A pledge to myself: no more hope. You taught me well, no more scrapbooks, No more.

I think that counts as a poem, dialyn. I like it. Being tone deaf has nothing to do with putting words and thoughts on paper. You did a good job.

Being tone deaf means I can't hear the beat of the words, the rhythm, the rhyme. Never could. Imagine what a misery the poetry section of English classes was for me. I could interpret poems, but I couldn't tell what was iambic pentameter and what wasn't. But thank you. You woke to the sunlight and this is what I woke up to...I guess the grey haze didn't clear away as early for me as for you.

I couldn't tell you what iambic pentameter is! But I can write without knowing. You going through a tough time? Sometimes you have to make yourself look for the sunlight. Not easy but it helps.

Not a tough time for me, if I am going to be honest. I just tend not to find much drama in the sunshine....it takes a lot of skill to make happiness interesting. Much easier for a lazy writer like me to find subjects in the little shadowy areas. "All happy families resemble one another; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." -- Anna Karina, by Tolstoy. Probably isn't true but it is easier to find the variations in unhappiness, while it's harder to capture the nuances of joy. Or maybe this is closer to the point: From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Taken from "Alone" by Edgar Allen Poe (disputed authorship but I believe it).

Renderosity took it upon itself to re-edit my message. "Alone" as quoted is part and not all of the poem.

There isn't any drama in sunshine and happiness, that's why I find it such a relaxing break from the normal chaos of unhappiness and fear. They say that the greatest pieces of art (music, drawing, writing) come from hardship and suffering. Its something we can all relate to. I think writing about joy is a challenge because it is not the norm and people are more likely to understand the dark side. Light reveals truth and that is harder to take sometimes. Joy is found in simple pleasures and usually that doesn't make for a good story, just little moments that make life worth while. LOL

I'm not disagreeing with you. I think during any given day, people range through emotions and don't even notice what they are feeling. I can feel happy in one moment and unhappy in the next and there's hardly a pause between the feelings, and no consideration, really, as I move on to the next emotion. Ongoing joy and happiness is very rare indeed, and probably not well appreciated by those who are not having that experience. I think, a personal opinion, that people should write what suits them, which makes neither of us wrong. And that is the best of both worlds to allow for the fascinating variations. :) And it may be a misinterpretation (on my own part) of what I wrote that the person was miserable. An alternative may be that the "voice" is saying that there would be no more dependence on someone else making the speaker happy, which is a movement for this individual to go from regret over what was lost (and never was) to strength (of actively making things happen, or taking control, instead of passively hoping for a dream to come true that clearly will not happen). But of course, I could be wrong. I never really know what my writing is about. The voice that gave me the thoughts has left me for the day.

They say one picture is worth 1000 words. I disagree.In twenty-four short lines of free verse you have told us how a young woman's heart bleeds, and how limmerance is not just lust softened by memory or distance.

I wawsn't disagreeing either, dialyn. I was enjoying sharing our perspectives- thanks for playing along!

And those memories there, of course: The first quick glance, the last chaste kiss, The warm touch, the whispering sounds, The delights of discovery, The pain of loss, just one good-bye. It wasn?t the fault of a lie. For someone who's supposedly tone deaf, you set up a powerful tempo, especially in the lines above! Poetry is so much more than just strict adherence to rhyme and meter. I could see the scrapbook on the shelf, hear its yellowing pages crackling, and feel the weight of her words as they came to her. You really have a knack for this. I hope we can see more.

Well I apparently am tone deaf as well, because this sounded like poetry to me. I dont write with a particular tempo in mind as much as a particular feeling. This poem certainly had feeling and it conveyed it without strain or effort, I didn't have to search for hidden meanings. Maybe you should "not" write poetry more often.Think the rest would agree with me on that.

I don't see nostalgia as being necessarily dark. I have experienced joy and sorrow on many occasions. The feeling of elation might be hard to describe, but there are many places where its part of the common human experience:The joy one feels when seeing loved ones after a long abscence is one experience, the closing embrace of lovers when the love seemed impossible is another. Truth and light are mere colors that make joy possible, mere cards played in loves game of suspence.

I really do appreciate all your kind feedback. It's fun, sometimes, to try a different form of writing once in awhile, just to stretch and see what happens. I'm not as comfortable with the idea of poetry as some of the rest of you to whom it comes naturally, but it was fun to give it a try. Thank you for taking the time to read it and discuss it with me. :)

Oh dear dialyn~ Poetry is of the soul, not the ear. ~And your soul is hearing exceptionally well!

Wow! Besides the wonderful verse, there is some incredible discussion. Discussion that I dare not enter...grin. Sounded like authors having an exchange of ideas. Good grey-matter meat (so to speak).

It is a poem and a very good one at that (even if you don't think it is!). I had no problems with the flow and the cadence. All very smooth and I understood the emotion perfectly. Thank you for posting it.