I Will Rise When I Sink Into the Sea

by CindyUng

September 6, 2015

We all say Emily Dickinson in our sleep

And watch Van Gogh as we eat,

We greet Herman Melville at every turn of a corner

And think long thoughts of Galileo.

In the breeze,

With a touch that is as powerful

As the yawn of a hurricane,

We feel them, everyday.

There is poetry of heartbreak twisting in our lips

As our eyes melt into Starry Nights and Olive Trees

Without a whale to be seen;

On and on the earth spins around the sun.

But how would they ever know?

They died before a thing of theirs was sold.

Gone with their eyes closed,

Unaware of their art, words, discoveries

Being showcased grandly in every museum.

How would they ever know?

When I grow old with my poems,

All flaky and dusty,

Maybe once I die,

Everyone will read them.

They will always, always hear me

On the most windiest days.

And they will host grand celebrations

Above my body --

Stanzas engraved into each hand and wrist,

Rhythm echoing in their ears,

As they raise their drinks as a toast for me,

For the dead girl and her poems

That can make them feel alive.

No reason to worry about me,

I will be in company with fallen soilders,

Stars praised after death.

Hey, at least I'll be recognized someday.

If my words can be muttered in sleep,

Glimpsed over dinner,

Or laying in streets,

If having nothing gives me something,

So I can be heard in currents

Of sweet, sweet air,

Then don't mind me.

Continue with your day.

Get going now,

Ignore away!

Just you wait,

You will all hear from me

After my life sets like a sunset,

Lowering ever so slowly

Through the yellows, oranges, reds

And finally,

Into the dark.

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CindyUng

Find me where the heart beats faster and the mind runs clearly. If you turn around, you might catch a glimpse of moonlight: Hold it close and you may hear the whispers of my aches and dreams. Speak softly now, you might scare the strength out of me. You'll never know where my thoughts will go next, just let me be the one driving this journey. Someday I'll return to the stars and sleep in the void, a place where I hope to find colors I've never seen before. And when I master the art of painting into the galaxies of pain and recovery, I will discover the truth in me. I will be free, I will be free. Let the constellations tattoo the spaces of my body. ***If you ever want me to check out your poetry, feel free to let me know!***

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Comments (2)

CindyUngMar 31, 2016

<p>Thanks so much! Your comment means a lot (:</p>

WordSpinnerMar 31, 2016

<p>*applause* that was really good! I think you just articulated all of the thoughts that go around in a poet's head... </p>