Reflecting on Danger Risk of Falling by ParkourDance (while thinking about GE2015)

Walking through a house of heartbreaks

littered with the corpses of failures

hanging lifeless, upside down,

displayed for all to see.

Uncanny gallery of battle wounds

the scars still hurt

after they heal.

This is not another broken-hearted poem

but it is about love

Worried about losing the now

because things could always be much worse.

Taking the slaps

because it is easier than losing a home.

Wanting less pain

but not fighting for it because somehow

we’ve learned to believe

that we get what we deserve.  

And that suffering builds ruggedness of character.

And the hurt increases with each ask…

even then…

                         risk that heartbreak

follow that dream

                         (and make it real)

another failure

is no more than

                          the others before.

There is nothing more depressing

than wandering with the ghost of a dream

and living each day

in exactly the same way as we did

50 years before.

Keeping to the same limits

prescribed for each of us

with boundaries drawn in for us

in accordance to our merits

(determined by someone other than ourselves)

Dare we pursue the possibility of being

much much more than a cog in the machine

of one man’s dream?

This is not another broken-hearted poem  

but it is about love.

Fear, taking turns.

Last night we battled our fears together.

We took turns to be each others’ fears
Standing there as my hand was put over my mouth – a silent scream
My other hand was extended
reaching for air,
my legs, crafted to display
straining, pushing forward
but never moving.
Held back by my own hand.
She danced
She stood up to her fears
She danced
She displayed absolute control
She danced
Swiping away all that stood in her way.

She danced.

@LakesideFSC. ‪#‎reimagineplaces‬

Writing About Fear

Yet another poem we wrote during Writing With Communities. This one was written based on the word “Fear”. After collating responses from the whole class to this word, we sat down to create a poem from words or phrases that struck us.

This is the poem my group created:

panic in the darkness as time passes slowly
fear of the future,
of being forgotten
of no love
of death

we start dying from the day that we are born.
each second that passes feels like hours
my insignificance grows with days passed in limbo