SparkLife Poetry Club: Being Cool
If you're a regular visitor to this site, then you'll know all about the next theme coming up.
This Week's Topic: Being Cool
Your interpretation of it, society's interpretation of it, the literal definition of being in a climate with a 32°F temperature or below—the possibilities are endless!
Poet of the Week: Taylor Mali
I just found this guy and I'm in love (not as much as my love for Darren Criss, but he's still awesome)! Taylor is so smart and funny and has a lot of other good work, so don't be upset if he's poet of the week more than once. Though I'll try to contain my poet-crush on him.
Honorable Sparklers: anhendy3, GwenPhilly, Leonardo_da_Fishy, Octoberbird, whimsicalLady, and a poem that should replace the current dictionary definition for the word "mistake."
Mistakes can be as simple and as easy,
As riding coasters when you're queasy.
Or leaving the cookies unattended,
Or eating with a fork that's bended.
Some forget to do their math that night,
Some don't remember to grab a light.
Others hurt a friend or say a word,
That's wrong, that's mean, or just absurd.
But the worst mistake of all, to me,
Is messing up with poetry.
Like when you get to your last line,
And completely and totally forget that that you wanted your poem to rhyme but instead you just totally make up something random and stick it on the end that messes the whole thing up and hurts your brain just to look at.
Scroll down to read the other amazing poems from the talented Sparklers on this site! Seriously you guys, I'm gonna have to start doing background checks to make sure some of you aren't really English professors at Harvard. I'm not kidding, I actually had to Google some of your poems to make sure you didn't copy them! You're that good!
If you want to show off your skills this week, leave your title and poem in the comment section below. You can also submit a Sparkler post of your poem, but you MUST include the tag SPC. If you want to email me your poem (or you just want to talk) send an email to email@example.com.
Now get writin', ya Cool Cats.
Atonement (Ships at Sea)—anhendy3
Atonement for the deeds now done
Shall come in time of forgiveness won.
By then the flood from eyes shall pass
And rest below the rising mast.
To fear is one of every day,
But fear of all will waste the soul away.
By building walls so high and strong,
The foundation cracks so deep and long.
These written words interpret not
As those in vain and distraught,
But hear these now as a passing torch
Burning bright as the past is scorched.
Our ships now sail as they please
But the walls cannot block the surging seas.
These oceans connect throughout the Earth
And one day we'll see what this journey is worth.
I have been hiding under a cloak of lies.
Everyday I wear a mask.
I thought I could impress you with my artificial emotions and false truths.
But instead I have become a phantom to forever haunt your mind.
And I am sorry.
Never again will I be a fool that falls for your lies
Never again will I put my trust in your hands
Never again will I have so much shame
Never again will I go through so much pain
I can stand on my own
I will stand on my own
It took me awhile but now I know
That you took me as one big joke
I was blind but now I see
I see that you could never love me
You were my first love
and my first heartbreak
Deep down inside I still love you
but I can't be with you
I stepped into a clear puddle,
And immediately regretted it:
The sky was trying
To apply blue eyeshadow,
But I broke its mirror.
When the sky is a little too gray for my liking
And something in my chest isn't quite right
I put on that old music
And let myself think of you.
I listen to those songs we listened to together
Songs about first love, summer love, and home
Songs about happiness and blue eyes
Songs about forever.
I don't think those songs meant to lie
When they told us we would be forever.
When they told us we were special.
That we would be the ones
That people talked about
When they talked about true love.
I don't know whose mistake it was—
The town we lived in
I’m not sure what the mistake even was—
If it was that I wore those jeans you hated
(which I did)
Or that you wanted me to be something I wasn't
(which you did)
Or that we just dared to love too big for seventeen
(which we did).
Almost three years later,
I don't think it matters.
When I listen to those songs,
And get that feeling in my chest,
I know that loving you
Was my favorite mistake.
Which poem was your favorite last week? Do you have any ideas for topics to tackle next?