My share of losing

By Elizabeth Lisa

                        [Painting by Elizabeth Lisa]

My Share of Losing 

If I suggest an answer to your everything,

You might praise me more than I deserve.

I may impress you for a little while,

Then, it will be gone;

And still, a mystery.

If I contaminate your thoughts with my tendencies,

I may haze an aching soul determined to escape;

Despite the welcome, in a glance of faith.

But if my hope gives way to your world,

It may come as a stranger in hesitating steps.

I have lost many things disguised in words.

Oh, but what I have won; Once upon a time –

So tonight, I dance beneath the midnight sky,

To celebrate my sweet defeat;

My share . . .

With no regrets.



5 thoughts on “My share of losing

  1. I like the way you address the fact that our writing and communications affect others. That effect may perpetuate ripples that we have no control over. When others react to our words, they connect in a personal way and presume that reaction to be a personal contact with the author. It is a connection to the words used by the author, but not a connection to the actual person who writes the words. Much the same as when a fan identifies with a movie or TV fictional character, without realizing that the true personality of the actor has little to do with the role portrayed.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I truly appreciate your thoughts and your time Victor; how you feel about my work is very important to me, and whether my intentions surface from deep within the words I choose or not, is far less important than what your interpretation is; the magic of poetry is that one given poem can whisper different stories to different people and though these stories may contradict, they still hold truths within them. My inspiration for this particular poem was sparked by my need to plead the fact that putting people on a pedestal is one way of crucifying them, it was one way to embrace and accept our human nature to be wrong. I agree with you completely that our true personality can never be depicted in a poem, but are creations always expose a piece of who we really are; yes? xxx


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