Poetry2ponder's Blog

“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.