Poetry2ponder's Blog

“Late nights (must end)” by Trevor Witt

Late nights
I refuse to sleep
When my dreams are in front of me
When they are so far away, you see,
They will not walk my way
And it will do little good if I pray,
Without work,
Without hours and hours
Of incremental, barely perceptible progress
And my ambition.
My lofty goals
Are far greater than I let on,
Such that I rarely dare to share,
And I pretend like I don’t care
If I fail or fall short
But I do
I dream
Longing to open a cafe
To publish poetry
To record an album
To learn to decipher the mysteries
Of prime numbers, quantum-gravity, and love.
And I dream of a community
A family of relatives and neighbors and friends
Where the love never stops, though each night must end.

“Time Passes Slow” by Trevor Witt

Time passes slow
As little babes
Taking tiny steps
Fast forward
And we are climbing trees
Skip ahead
And we have bad knees
Finally
We use a walker
Or a wheelchair
If we are lucky,
We still have people who care.

“Action” by Trevor Witt

Action,
Don’t miss a beat,
But, if you do,
Don’t worry,
Don’t admit defeat.
Keep going, growing,
Until you’re ready
For Take Two.

(Action.)

“Connected To Our Bodies” by Trevor Witt

Connected to our bodies,
Nervous systems making us nervous,
Nerves running signals
To our hearts, racing
And to our feet, pacing,
Feeling anxious,
As we wait
For our dates.
Butterflies in our stomachs,
Or is this merely the flutter of hunger?

I remember a time
Half my face was scraped and bloody
Landed in the ER
Bones were broken and I felt crummy.

But that wasn’t all of me.
It was only my body, you see,
I am an amalgamation of matter,
A rhythm of a frequency of gravity,
A pulse of energy never seen before,
And I will radiate on long after
My body walks through Life’s last door.

“Next Steps” by Trevor Witt

Next steps,
One foot in front of the other,
Right, left, right, left,
Until I can see the path,
A dusty trail, worn, yet untamed,
A crossing for snakes, mountain lions,
And lost travelers, like me,
Trying to find themselves,
In the wilderness,
Where my soul lives.

“A Real Poet (With Your Memories)” by Trevor Witt

A real poet
Not just some romantic
Scribbling on a napkin –
But that too –
I want to be
In books, on tongues,
In hands as the pages turn.

A real musician
Not just a fool on the hill
Playing guitar for the fields –
But that too –
I want to be
Stuck in people’s heads,
Sung in the shower,
An anthem for coming of age,
Danced to at weddings,
But also at 50th anniversaries.

A real writer,
I want to be more than a dream,
I want to become the words,
And for the words to become real,
As real as the thoughts in your head.

(Blessed are you,
Who keep me alive
With your memories.)

“Dark Poetry” by Trevor Witt

She asked about dark poetry,
How much is too much to tell?
To a therapist? To parents?
To strangers?

Pain and embarrassment arise,
When thinking of the times I cut myself.
Anger, regret, and shame stand tall,
When remembering the bullies I let push me around.

Kids who would pretend to be friends,
But would then make fun of you.
Getting laughed at for wearing short shorts in PE,
Blushing, and crying, I swung at the kid laughing.

Having pieces of trash thrown at me,
During French class, in front of the teacher,
Nearly getting in a fight.

Fantasies of revenge against enemies,
Imagining killing myself,
And how sad my family would be.

Pity and sadness fill me up,
When reminiscing about how I internalized rejection,
And embraced isolation.

A hug would have helped a lot.

I could go on,
But I am choosing
To let it go.

“Steadfast” by Trevor Witt (Inspired in part by “Resilient Girl” by Briana Muñoz)

Steadfast
Holding ground
Despite it shaking
Under your feet
Shifting sands
Yet you stand still
Still, you stand
No need to
Move
No need to
Explain yourself
To the Earth
Or to any of its creatures
You have as much a right to be
As the oceans and the stars
And the dirt beneath your feet
We are trees
Temporary arrangements of leaves, trunks, and roots,
Yet always connected
To the soil and the sky.

“Bathe in the Sun” by Trevor Witt

The sunlight is reassuring
As the birds chirp pleasantly
And I waddle out of the pond of misery
Self-judgment and criticism
Cling to and cover me like mud
Self-pity sticks to me like leeches
But I will tear off those insecurities one by one
For I will now bathe in the sun.

“To Be Fully Human” by Trevor Witt (dedicated to my Dad)

To be fully human
Is to feel the clouds at your feet
When you and your love meet
And to sink into dark depressions
When internalizing rejections
To feel physical pain
When experiencing empathy
To delight in tangible, worldly pleasures
While in awe of the moon and the stars
To become that which one was not
To grow from a scared child to a confident adult
And to learn to live with fears again as age catches us,
To dare to dream, to pursue the impossible,
To take a leap of faith with no net below,
To love
Terrified, brave,
Exhausted and shackled,
Or free and triumphant,
To be gracious,
To be hurt,
To be wounded,
And to learn to heal,
To love
In fits of rage, yelling, and tantrums,
In the calm, beside a lake, with placid water,
In the confusion, speechless, unable to convey feelings or thoughts,
In the simple understanding that we are One,
To love.