Sharing My Poetry

The poem I've written is titled: "Midnight Thoughts".

To share my poem with other people, I tried two different methods.

For the first method, I made a poster and encouraged readers to put on stickers to signify that they've read my poem.

I decided to make my way to Kerrisdale to display "Midnight Thoughts".

Along the way, I met my first reader.

In Kerrisdale:

 
 

What I found was that almost all of the people who bothered to stop by and read were old women. Young people just walked past without a glance, and old men looked for a little bit and walked past.

Going back home. I didn't get the views that I wanted and resorted to asking others passengers in the bus to read and put stickers.



After Kerrisdale, I asked the manager at my apartment building for permission to display my poster on the resident's message board for 3 days.



Other places I tried:
1. Oakridge mall - the security told me that I was not allowed to display anything in the mall and forced me to take it down..
2. Vancouver Public Library - The manager was not available, and there were security issues with taking pictures.





For the second method, I created a simple, silent video using pictures that I drew and putting captions. Enjoy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cITtanR1hPY&feature=youtu.be

Midnight Thoughts

In the wake of a solemn tranquility

My mind finds no stability.

Though I must rest in a hurry

It is during these nights that I start to worry.

“I forgot to give Suzy her money back.”

“I wonder if he’s still mad at me, that Jack.”

“What will happen next week?”

From trivial thoughts, bigger ones bespeak.

“Why do I always manage to blunder?”

“From all these misfortunes will I ever sunder?”

“Today I made the same mistake as yesterday, though I try.”

“Why does it always have to be this way?” I cry.

“Of the billions of souls that pass,

Am I nothing but an insignificant part of the mass?”

“What if I’ve done this?”

“I should have done this.”

An amalgam of thoughts is bombarding my head

Like missiles and bombs until I get up from my bed.

Then silence.

As I stare into that dark-blue night,

I somehow find comfort in the stars alight.

As I fall into a state of sleep,

I know that tomorrow night will repeat

The same midnight thoughts.

Poetry

Lines, stanzas, verses, meter

Are all terms used in poetry.

Some may say that poetry

Is an alternative type of writing.

But poetry is much more than that.

Poetry is an art.

An art sometimes with rules,

And sometimes without rules.

It is a way to paint a picture

Using words.

From the Shore to the Sea Beyond

Found poem source:

Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. London: Faber and Faber, 1954. 1-22. Print.

From the Shore to the Sea Beyond

The air was thick with butterflies, lifting, fluttering, settling.

Little breezes crept over polished waters beneath a haze of heat.

When these breezes reached a platform palm-fronds would whisper,

So that spots of blurred sunlight moved like bright, winged things in the shade.

The beach between the palm terrace and the water

Was a thin bow-stave, endless.

Some act of God had banked sand inside a lagoon

So that there was a long, deep pool in the beach

So deep at one end as to be dark green.

It was clear to the bottom and bright

With the efflorescence of tropical weed and coral.

A school of tiny, glittering fish flicked hither and thither

The ground was covered with coarse grass,

Torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees,

Scattered with decaying coconuts and palm saplings.

Young palm trees fell and dried, forming a criss-cross pattern of trunks.

The palms that still stood made a green roof,

Covered on the underside with a quivering tangle of reflections from the lagoon

The shore was fledged with palm trees

That reclined against the light

And their green feathers were a hundred feet up in the air.

Out there, perhaps a mile away,

The white surf flinked on a coral reef,

And beyond that the open sea was dark blue.