Saturday, April 5, 2014

Porgy And Bess ( bad poetry time by Mary Ann Laing )

I've been thinking about writing poetry again, a pass-time I have always enjoyed, never claimed to be a "poet" per se, just another vehicle of creating I like to ride now and then.  I once had a blog in Myspace where I'd vent all my writing through many stages of life at that time.  When they changed Myspace, they took away the blogs, and at that time, I just shrugged it off thinking it was no big loss, I wasn't holding those entries with a lot of passion for their preciousness...passion for their preciousness...make a good song.  Anyways, now that Justin Timberlake has all my poems, I kinda wish I'd saved them, I didn't.  I think of one or two that I wish I had saved, not sure why, just wish I did.  I could write them over again, just not the same as that spontaneous poetic moment that got me writing them to begin with, just not the same.  I guess I learned a lesson there, make a file and save it, like the boxes and boxes of STUFF that I keep returning to, go through it another time and edit if you need to, right.

I know this is an art blog, and if I had some new art to post, I would.  No, instead I am posting a poem I've had rattling around in the poetry section of my brain.  So, I have removed it, it can't keep me from painting and drawing (ugh...drawing, that's right, I am in a drawing challenge..right) now, my next entry here will most likely be some art of a visual nature, maybe...unless another poem jumps into that empty space right away, they do tend to go on runs...okay, I'm going...

Porgy And Bess ( my cats, just thought I should put that to clear up any confusion )

Somewhere in deep slumbers I reckon to find
Belonging to only myself when in kind
I gather some books as to not lose my mind
Grant me wishes so grateful to please

A warmth of cold blankets can often endure
Some vigorous shivers to tire the pure
And turn off the mental and try to obscure
Each second that passes in threes

Out of the silence of darkness I hear
A soft lightly padded enchantment so dear
The door sounds a creak, oh yes, he is near
Sweet Porgy who'll keep me from freeze

On my side I am ready, quite antsy perhaps
In position to sleep as he takes on his laps
Around and around, getting ready for taps
And curls gently in the crook of my knees

My heart feels calm, yet inflates with a gust
Much love to expel, so I glance as I must
The back of his head, his placement of trust
God forbid me from needing to sneeze

Leaned in love against me, there's a mutual need
I once locked them out, I admit and concede
Sweet Porgy and Bess and their playful game speed
More fit for the wildest of creatures in trees

But now we are grown up, the three of us know
The difference between promise and playful and show
Mature is Bess who takes the edge of the throw
While Porgy claims well the crook of my knees

Prayers I make to my God who has blessed me this day
Thanks I give for my life, all those right things I say
While my mind finds it's peace so's my slumber may stay
With me and my Porgy in the crook of my knees

April 5, 2014
M.A. Laing

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