What I Am

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    What I Am

    I am art

    I am smooth strokes of blue and red

    I am the inspiration that fills lonesome hearts

    I am the scrape of chalk on the sidewalk

    I am the voice of laughing children, paint smeared across their noses.

    I am heavy concentration

    I am hopeful determination

    Together we yearn for a splatter of colorful ink

    And emotions dancing upon a canvas,

    And the sadness polluting the air

    The air

    The air filled with love or hatred

    I am air

    I am a swirling cloud of foggy invisibility

    Though not as looming and mysterious as midnight,

    I am dark.

    But, I can be light.

    I can be a growing ball of hope that will break with a mere touch

    That can still overpower depression

    I am delicate, yet I am strong

    I follow the will of the world

    I am a wave of ice washing over the shores of the earth

    I am as vicious as snarling wind

    Which lashes out with whirling leaves

    I am as dry as the sand

    The nothingness within a clenched fist

    I am the pain within the cry of dying sunlight

    The sunlight

    The sunlight with its soft rays of compassion

    I am sunlight

    I am a bath of warmth in the midday,

    Massaging crying faces with its gentle fingers

    I am the faint glow of wishing that echoes within the soul

    I am a baby’s laugh as it glows in the heart,

    Replenishing the warm passion growing in a white light within you

    I am the sense of love tingling in the wind

    I am the music enveloping your ears:

    The soft strum of a guitar or the plink of a piano

    I am the joy that settles into a bright aura,

    That crumbles when darkness strikes,

    Its menacing glare sweeping over the world

    Yet, I am also the power watching over you

    I am the source taking care of you,

    Making sure wrong does not overtake your mind

    I am the welcoming smile in the morning.

    A smile

    A smile that shines from within

    I am a smile

    I stretch from ear to ear

    I am a symbol of ecstasy, love, and thankfulness

    I am rare, yet I am common

    And when I am there, the world is silenced with awe at my beauty

    I can be tight

    I can be angry, taut, known as a smirk.

    I can be intimidating,

    Crushing self-confidence with the movement of lips

    And I can be relaxing

    I can be moving

    I can be the inspiration for great things.

    Inspiration

    Inspiration is an awakening of a thought

    I am inspiration

    I am a rush of excitement, awakening senses

    I have the potential for many things:
    I have the potential for failure,

    Which seeps into the mind and destroys everything in it’s path

    I have the potential for delight

    Which is like watching a flower bloom into beautiful petals

    But, petals are fed by sun and water.

    They are dependent on other sources

    Delight is dependent on me.

    I have the potential for ignorance

    With hands brushing me off

    I also have the potential for greatness.

    I am a lamp to dark times.

    I am a soft piece of cake that the soul feeds on.

    Soul

    A soul is the liveliness in every living being.

    But, soul is made up of the things that I already am.

    Soul is art

    Soul is air

    Soul is sunlight

    Soul is a smile

    Soul is inspiration.

    I am a soul.

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    BlackButterfly1 commented on What I Am

    04-30-2011

    I notice the poem is titled "What I Am" but what about writing one that explains "Who I Am." Just a thought.

    BlackButterfly1 commented on What I Am

    04-30-2011

    OMG this is so beautiful!! You recognize that you are all things! I highlighted favorite lines as I read but there are so many. This poem is a great contradiction of who you are but contradiction in this case isn't a bad thing. We are everything.... good and bad. This illustrates your acceptance of who you are but it also displays your struggle. I can relate to this because I wrote a similar piece that I wasn't brave enough to publish here for others to read. Awesome work my friend. You are complicated yet simple and that is to be admired.

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    shadelight’s Poems (25)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Lonely Contentedness 0
    Alone 0
    Fake 0
    Swim 0
    Nighttime 0
    Why? 1
    Forgotten Pasts 2
    Banished 0
    Self Pity 2
    The Rudeness of Thoughts 1
    Music's Hold 1
    Lives Lost Forever 0
    As Of Today 0
    Tears 0
    Broken Friendship 0
    Colors 0
    Death 1
    Across the midnight sky 0
    What I Am 2
    Just There 1
    Gone 3
    What can I do? 2
    Winter 1
    Run Away 3
    Lost Memory 1