Wednesday Wisdom: Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury again

“Just write every day of your life.
Read intensely. Then see what happens.
Most of my friends who are put on
that diet have very pleasant careers.”
—  Ray Bradbury  —

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Battle Scars

When I write, I typically assume two personalities. One, the voice behind the poem, and two, the object of the poem–the person whom the poem is addressing. More often than not, the voice behind the poem is truly my own. It is easiest to write when you write what is closest to home and the topics that you feel most strongly about. However, inspiration isn’t always as nice and neatly packaged as that… sometimes inspiration strikes when you witness someone else’s experience, emotions, or feelings and feel driven to write because of them. Authors and poets rely strongly on external sources of inspiration, as well as internal sources. In fact, many of the strongest and most moving pieces–both of writing and poetry–were written because the author was moved by sorrow, compassion, and empathy.

 

Scars On Your Heart

Battle scars, broken hearts

Will these wounds ever really heal?

Broken faith, shattered dreams

Misfortune is all too real.

 

Grim face

Despairing sigh

Sorrow is all

That fills your eyes.

 

Time may not heal

All wounds of the soul

Learn to let go

You can’t fill the hole.

 

Others may forgive

The things you have done

But forgive yourself?

It’s a battle un-won.

 

You drew your sword

You fought the fight

And the healing is still

Far out of your sight.

 

Swift rising sun

But your heart is still torn

The new day has come

Yet you’re feeling forlorn.

 

I won’t say

That healing will come

You won’t ever forget

Where those scars are from.

 

But I’m standing here

And you’re standing there

Just want you to know

That I really do care.

 

Scars on your heart

That time will not heal

Will years diminish

The sorrow you feel?

 

Trust me this once

That’s all that I ask

Give me a chance

To prove that we’ll last.

Let me heal… the scars on your heart.

Rising on Gryphon Wings

An author throws the heavy curtains aside and casts the window open, allowing fresh, sweet air and the bright, morning sun to stream in. A poet carefully lifts a corner of the curtain and lets a single shaft of glorious light shoot across the floor. This is often the reason why the meaning of various poems can seem ambiguous at first. The author will paint an entire masterpiece, in glorious and unparalleled detail, whilst the poet is content to paint a few simple colors and forms. Both end up saying what they wished to say; yet normally, the poet’s intention, motivation, and meaning is sometimes confused and obscured. What causes this? Often, it is because the poet chooses to use symbols to represent their ideas, and perhaps, because poetry uses far fewer words. Of course, this goes both ways: conciseness may throw up a cloud of murky obscurity, or it may lend to absolute clarity and certainty. The following poem is probably the most obscure and ambiguous piece I have written. It frustrated me at first, because I had no idea what I was trying to say. Slowly, the words began to take form, and I realized that it was a tale of growing up; a brief glimpse of the mental shift and transition from childhood to adulthood.

 

Gryphon Wings

Battle light

Blazing eyes

Search for reason

In the rhyme.

 

Rippled waters

River stone

Hop and a skip

You cast your hope.

 

Murky darkness

Tangled trail

Your biggest fear

Is you might fail.

 

Salty spray

Taste of the sea

Spread your arms

Breathe in deep.

 

Jump the rope

Tag-you’re-it

Remember those days

When we were kids?

 

Empty vastness

Deadly calm

The long deep breath

Before the plunge.

 

Nonsense lines

Scattered thought

Dream filled world

Within I’m caught.

 

Rising high

On gryphon wings

Sing from your heart

The song of the free.