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@k-a-grey

I like your poem a lot! I love all the repetition in it, and I feel you got your message across very well.

The only part I struggled with was this particular section:

A cold, cold, cold Bold. 

                                Enfold.

I still can’t quite figure out what it meant (maybe that’s not a bad thing?), and overall, I feel like the beginning goes on too long. By the time we get to this line, I feel like the poem’s point is to just play with words, which clearly wasn’t your sole intent as we move into the “meat” of it.

Maybe cut out those two lines? I feel that way I would be able to connect the shivers and the cold to the pain. That may just be me, though.

Thanks! We had a surprise early snowfall not long ago, so I had fun writing a poem about it.

Here’s another fairly recent poem. I created it after hearing some really hard news and meditating on the passage from Romans 8:26.

Oh, Lord…

At first, I don’t even cry.

The dull pain sinks in slowly,

for death comes too quick

for my mind to prosses.

I try to pray

but I don’t have the words to say,

so I just listen as I hear the sorrowful news.

My mind’s an empty blur,

and I start a prayer I don’t know how to finish:

Oh Lord…

 

I step outside

and at once I learn to cry.

The loss runs me over like a freight train

and I can’t contain the tears.

I realize it’s too late to say “I love you”

or reach a loving hand and say “I care.”

I suppose I could reach out to the family

but I can hardly speak;

I can only sob two incoherent words,

Oh, Lord…

 

Wordless, tumbling prayer

runs through my mind,

one I don’t understand.

The Bible says the Spirit intercedes with groanings

deeper than words.

What does he hear from my blubbering voice?

What does he glean from my trembling lips?

He hears fathoms of thoughts with each tear,

and as I silently sob

the peace of His presence gives me the strength to pray:

Oh Lord…

 

It’s too hard to think about what this means.

I stare mindlessly.

I don’t even know what I see.

The sadness reigns everywhere

and even the sky cries in my mind.

I whisper through the empty pain,

Oh Lord…

 

God himself inclines his ears

to hear my confused prayer.

He stoops down to listen

and cradles me with His promises.

I know I can hardly see

for tears blind my eyes,

and I know I can hardly speak

because of sobs I try to hide,

but God is completely focused, waiting

to hear me cry

my two words:

Oh Lord,

 

And all I pray

as night looms,

as I think of all that’s lost,

 as I mourn what I can’t regain,

I pray:

Oh Lord…

and sob.

And God translates the rest.