You’re a volcano.
Violent red shrieks,
Demanding, aggressive strides,
Breaking burning, rampaging over
My dull, placid life
You’re a volcano
And I’m just smoke.
My grey disposition,
A mist filled mystical appearance,
A life that Somehow yet alludes to something greater still
something...more red.
And when they see me
They scatter in fear!
At first
Because I’m not a volcano
I’m just smoke.
And eventually even a light breeze
Is enough to billow me over,
Is enough to bow me through
Or apart, Or away.
I forget
No, am forgotten, often
You’re a volcano.
Red glowing rocks
Shooting every which way
Like a thousand wishing stars
Giving you...anything
And yet you wished...
Only to be like me.
Boring, gray smoke
Only shocking till you see
Right through me
But you said
What power
What power to whisper gently
Like a breeze, like a casual whispery wind
And cause...stampedes!
What power in subtlety
How my world changed that day
About the Creator
Rikki Sodaye
I love writing, always have. I believe people are born poets, and even if they never write a single word, their whole life breeds poetry.
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Craft Over Catharsis Challenge Winners
Craft Over Catharsis? What the hell does that even mean? The phrase came out of a curation meeting as a genuine question. We had been noticing that many challenge entries, across prompts, naturally gravitate toward trauma, grief, and personal reckoning. That makes sense. Writing is often cathartic. It's one of the ways we process what we've lived through.
By Vocal Curation Teama day ago in Resources
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