Poem – The Books are Being Burned

Well hello there! I have returned from the rainy but beautiful country of Ireland. I had an absolutely amazing two weeks there, and I’m so grateful to God for all the work he did in my heart and in the other people serving with me. He truly is a great God full of compassion and love for the lost and broken people that do not know him!

This week I’m doing another poem. I wrote this after reading Fahrenheit 451. I was really impacted by the beauty of the writing, as well as the seriousness of the message it contained. I don’t need to go in depth about it here, because I have here. I will just say that the theme of the books being regarded as evil and irrelavant things that need to be eliminated impacted me pretty heavily. Especially since I see that trend towards dismissing books becoming bigger in our culture today. So I wrote this poem based off of the theme of book-burning in Fahrenheit 451.

 

book burning

 

Words go up in smoke.

Pages wither like dying butterflies.

The wisdom of the ages consumed in flames.

And no one cares.

Why?

Because books have become objects of ridicule.

Having knowledge is considered better

than having wisdom.

The vessels of wisdom are considered worthless drivel.

Rubbish.

To be burned.

What changed?

Why are books now disdained, feared, and hated?

Why is their wisdom and beauty considered trash?

Because people decided that movement was better

than stillness.

Blaring noise was better

than silence.

Head knowledge was better than

heart wisdom.

The hunger for learning

was replaced by the hunger for instant pleasure.

Books were no longer in the picture.

Thus, books have been slowly pushed down

to become nothing more than

dangerous containers

of ideas and words and silly fancies and feelings.

Stuff to be ignored,

shut down

and destroyed.

Books are to be burned.

Because that’s all they’re worth.

No one cares

Because their minds have become numb

With constant movement,

and noise,

and knowledge being pounded into their brains.

And above all,

the striving for instant pleasure.

No one recognizes the infinitely precious treasure

that books are.

The beauty and wonder and wisdom

that can be found in their pages.

The numbed-brain people can’t appreciate it.

No one needs books any more.

No one wants books any more.

No one cares about books any more.

So the books burn.

 Pages crumple into black smoke.

Books melt into ashes.

Words dissolve into nothing.

The wisdom of the ages goes up in smoke.

The books are being burned,

and nobody cares.

 

 

Poem – Dear Brain

Welcome back everyone! I hope you’re all having a fantastic July so far!

I’m back this week with another poem. This one is a bit more light-hearted than some of my previous ones. Let me know if you’ve ever experienced something like what it is about… 😉

Dear Brain,

Please shut up.

I’m trying

to sleep

and how can I?

when you

are constantly

talking

at me.

No

I don’t need

to think

about

all the times

I’ve said

something stupid.

No

I don’t need

to ponder

the meaning of life,

and whether

it would really be possible

to put man

on Mars.

No

I don’t need

to decide if

it’s worth inviting

that girl I barely know

to come to my party.

or even decide

what kind of cake

I should have

at said party.

No

I don’t need

to think

about

all the school work

I need to do tomorrow.

And how

I really

really

must

be productive.

No

I don’t need

one hundred and two

story and poem ideas

flying around my brain

at fifty miles per hour.

And no

I certainly don’t need

the imaginations

of giant mice

living under my bed

and spiders

crawling

into my mouth

when I finally

fall asleep.

No

I don’t need

any of those things

I just need sleep.

So Brain

please shut up.

I’m trying

to sleep.

 

Poem – Hearts and Heels

Well here I am again – another Saturday and another poem! This week’s poem is one of the first poems I ever wrote, back in February. The idea for it came to me randomly in bed one night, and the next morning I wrote it out. (Brain-storming in bed is a pretty great way to get ideas, I’ve found :D) The central truth that it is based around is the fact that people who are hurt by others often will hurt others in return. Broken people often break others. But instead of me telling you about it, I’ll just let it speak for itself!

Hearts and Heels

a heel comes down

on a fragile vase

for a brief moment

it gives a weak resistance

then shatters

under the weight of the heel

the shattered pieces sparkle

bathed in sunlight

but when

the heel comes down again

expecting another failed resistance

it instead encounters

sharp shards

that pierce

and draw blood.

whole, the vase is beautiful

but weak

shattered, the vase harms

and pierces

broken things

can fight back too.

words rain down

on a fragile heart

for a brief moment

it gives a weak resistance

then shatters

under the cruelty of the words

the shattered pieces sparkle

bathed in tears

but when

the words rain down again

expecting another failed resistance

they instead encounter

sharp shards

that pierce

and draw blood

whole, the heart is beautiful

but weak

shattered, the heart harms

and pierces.

broken things

can fight back too

Poem – Masks

*Note: I don’t think I said this on my last post, but I’m planning to post once weekly, on a Saturday. 

Today’s piece of featured writing is a poem. I don’t have much to say about it, except is freestyle, and I wrote it after being struck by how often people put on masks to hide their true feelings. I aptly call it…. Masks.

 

Broken hearts behind indifferent masks

We cannot see real people

Behind the walls they put up

To keep us out

 

Weeping hearts behind laughing eyes

We should not judge people

Based on their outer appearance

For painted facades can hide dark interiors

 

Hurting hearts behind angry words

We should not base our opinion of people

Off of one encounter with them

For often it is an unjust opinion

Based off of an unjust encounter

 

We cannot see people’s hearts

We cannot know what goes on behind people’s walls

So please remember

That outer appearences

Hide inner realities

 

And give grace