Tag: words

Posted in art, identity, poetry

Angry Poem

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Angry Poem I fought until I was the fool, until every word I said compounded insignificance, tacking on weightless syllables that fizzled into nothing as if I hadn’t said a thing at all, a person without a voice, not a person at all. For a moment I let the silence stick, crushed by insecurity as if speaking would reveal weakness, repulsed by my thoughts, my impulses, my actions, letting it all get to me regretting my voice regretting me. But something felt wrong to write about deficits, to strip away the intention of all those things I said, to say the meaning meant nothing. Those words mattered, fucking mattered, because I matter.

Don’t ever let someone make you feel like you don’t have a voice or that your voice has no weight. Be heard. Be yourself and be heard.

I love you guys.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, creative writing, poetry, writing

The Last Word

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

 

The last Word A poem can be a line, she said. I couldn’t leave it without justifying, barking thoughts after the fact, a defense mechanism, an expression of my own apprehension to accept simplicity. I worry what they all think, what he thinks, fear manifested in ramblings that say nothing. A poem can be a line.

I’m having an out of body experience at the moment, looking at the last week of my life from across a room. I see it and I think I feel it, but I can’t quite believe it’s mine. 

Celebrate luck with wine, good food, and many many hugs. 

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Speechless

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Speechless My wit atrophies into a freshly erased chalkboard, smeared with dust, remnants of brain activity dragged into a blur. I listen to what you say but cannot speak in return. I taste the chalk of words caked in my closed mouth, too dry to write them with sound. By the time I find a pen to transcribe my silence, you’ve left. I hit repeat on the same song 9 times while working on this post last night. Every play hit me harder than the last, a compounding obsession culminated in the fact that I’m talking about it right now. Maybe it means something and maybe it doesn’t. All I know is that today is Friday.

Sometimes I talk about the days of the week because I don’t know what else to say but most of the time I talk about the days of the week because their existence seems just as important as anything else. Wow, it’s Friday. Find a song you love and listen to it 9 times in a row.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

To Listen

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

To Listen I skipped every other song, brushing aside the lyrics scribed in MP3s, at my ear’s whim to dismiss whichever ones I wanted. I was walking outside, so I needed beats, the kind compounded with stimulants, adrenaline, to spark my shoes to rebound off the concrete as if springing from a trampoline— I was trying to get a workout after all. I turned the corner onto my street, readying my hands to pause the music, to wipe my sweat and recede back into my house, subjected to an atmospheric beige, a poetically devoid space, a television two napping parents and a microwave. I reached the door, but I couldn’t go in, stopped, as if someone had grabbed my shoulders and yanked them backwards, pleading with my instincts to yield. I sat down on the porch swing, sinking into the darkness of pause, listening more intently to the words rapped in my headphones, and for a moment, I let the stillness rest, let my sweat dry on its own, and waited until the song reached its end before I went inside.

‘I hear your music and I’m listening. Thank you for sharing a part of your soul in your art.’ That’s what I’d say if I could tell anyone who has ever written a song how much I appreciate their work and their passion.

Posted in art, Music, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

Trees

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

TreesToday’s poem is inspired by the Twenty One Pilots song with the same title, “Trees.” Their version forces me to reflect on the exact emotions I fight to hide from contemplation, but in that reflection I find the purpose to write my own verse and expel the words that imprison my confidence.

…and if you can figure out what that means, you win 10 points!

Check back every Saturday for a new poem named after a Twenty One Pilots track and as always, check out their music below!

 

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Elude

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

EludeSpecial thanks to Lena Morsch for the title inspiration.

 

Posted in Music, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

Air Catcher

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Air CatcherPer my usual Saturday series, tonight’s poem uses the title of a twenty one pilots song. Check out my past TOP titled posts Implicit Demand for Proof and The Run and Go and tune in again next week for post #4 in the series. As always, don’t forget to check out twenty one pilots’ version of Air Catcher below.

I rarely talk about the meaning of my poetry because I don’t like to sway interpretations or influence the experience of reading the poem, but I will say that this poem stings a little today.

http://youtu.be/QW6Q3Y_T830

 

Posted in Josh Dun Poetry Corner, Music, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

Beautiful Words, Leanne

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Beautiful Words, LeanneWhen your favorite drummer sends you a tweet, it leaves an impression. Visit the Josh Dun Poetry Corner page for weekly archives and check back every Sunday for a new post! As always, don’t forget to check out twenty one pilots.

 

Posted in poetry, writing

Shh

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Shh

Posted in poetry

It Will Happen

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

It Will Happen