Poetry

Wax Chaotic

Nothing on my heart
That is…
Nothing that I would want to share
No words to weave into verse
No life experiences to turn
Into metaphors or similes
No alliteration, onomatopoeia
No limericks to make you laugh
No sonnets to make you cry
No basic English concepts
That would suffice
For waxing poetic to the masses
My creative bones are funny today
Nothing on my heart
Plenty on my mind
Memories that will not die
Waxing chaotic on my soul

4 thoughts on “Wax Chaotic”

  1. Lauren, it has been long overdue that I stop by and properly see your poetry. I’ve always read it, but poetry isn’t sated by overlook, but rather, by precision.
    Have you, by any chance, ever slid your fingers lightly over a thin disc? Likely not, it’s a weird analogy in proxy. I’m a carpenter by-day, I work with a lot of them, and the raspiness of touch gifted by those sinuous infinites of a circle give this haunting sense of fascination. That edge of insanity that became so blurry, so mellifluous, it spent itself into an circular motion of forever-into-elsewhere.
    I know I don’t make much sense, but you understand me, even if ever so slightly. Your poetry is syphoned from the surreal, the elsewhere, an encapsulation of a beauty that holds no shapes, and instead, it just radiates outwards.

    You are a beautiful person, Lauren, and you write beautifully. May you continue, I’m sure you will have many souls to inspire, and your refinement will only grow with your humility.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Johnny, I’m not even sure how to properly and adequately respond to this. Thank you. This is quite the compliment from someone such as yourself, whose talent far exceeds my own. I appreciate your kind words and offer the same to you as well. This made my whole day. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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