In Poems We Find Ourselves: An Anthology of Life’s Ups and Downs
By Jenna Birdwell
Words may have a set dictionary meaning, but their diction is infinite. Poetry is an art form that anyone can try, and it doesn’t have to rhyme or even follow reason. The most beautiful component of reading poetry is interpretation: even though the author may have been in a very specific state of mind while writing a poem, that doesn’t mean the reader has to gather the exact same feelings.
In school, we were taught annotation to help digest sentences and translate them into larger themes. I’ll admit, I’m the type of person who has to read and reread lines of text because the words go in my eyes and out my ears almost instantaneously (especially if there’s a word I don’t understand, which sends me off to look it up, only for me to forget its context, forcing me to go back and fill in the blanks once again).
No matter how much we decipher words and ideas on paper, I don’t believe anyone can truly master annotation because emotion, the underlying element, can never be fully understood in art.
I am unaware of others’ experiences, so hearing how they interpret my poetry can be both eye-opening and inspiring. I have books overflowing with stanzas. I also know the feeling of reading something that speaks to me at exactly the right time. So, I’ve put together a few poems for you to annotate. These poems come from different times in my life, so there isn’t a single theme for this anthology.
With these poems, you can digest, love, hate, need, print them out and burn them if you want. That’s the beauty of writing.
Two eyes meet another pair
Ten fingers interlock ten more
Those three words from only her lips
Because one heart fails to equal the other
A division must be made
Simple math
Skyscrapers
Built to bend with the toughest winds
Each story relying on one another to stay upright
No humans believed this architecture was possible
But made possible with hard work and dedication
The clouds can’t even compare to the height
Because it towers over all things
-
Except planes
You said our love is like skyscrapers
Sturdy
Created to overcome natural disasters
But
I now realize our love has a limit
And could one day crumple
Littering
Environmentally unfriendly waste so easily tossed
Mother Nature’s gift is now beneath a thick layer of our ignorance
She is crying out for help
Melting her giant frozen creations in the North
Blurring her blue sky into a dull fog of pure contamination
But society will continue maintaining its carbon footprint
And it is only a matter of time before she loses her purpose
For we have abused her gift to us and are mocking her idea of beauty
Hold your breath
You lie then take the long inhale
Holding it through the laughs
The cries
Caring for the newly ravished and heartbroken
Then the exhale
You comfortably release that breath I trusted indefinitely
And now inhales are the definition of a leap of faith to possible dismay
I shed my skin
Flaking off my first layer
To reveal a naked pallet full of opportunity for a kaleidoscopic experience
Sunbathing is the peak of my existence
Soaking up the rays of yellow to add to my array of colors
And when night comes
The hues from the crepuscule fulfill the remainder of my precious flesh
A change of aura
From sleepless nights
To days of pure contemplation
I unconsciously evolve
Evolve into not just a being of joy
But a being full of raw emotions
Virtuous to inferior
I find the moral standpoint in all situations
Therefore creating a life worth experiencing the trials and tribulations
And always ending up victorious
Deterioration
Skin
Picking at flesh to create scars I despise
Bags
Remnants of an inappropriate soporific schedule
Dust
Writing my name in the thin layer of neglect on my shelves
The dreary days detach themselves from the delightful days so distinctly
I can almost taste the medicine now
Trying to reverse the deterioration
Of my skin
Bags
Dust
But it’s my first language!
I credit myself somewhat
For I wasn’t born knowing words like incomprehensibility and tergiversation
So why so caught up in the lack of understanding?
To others I’m capable of profound question and answer
But my own inquiries remain unresolved
And I am stuck feeling mindless
I found a doll in a box today
She came in a collection of three
Each having its own appearance
But I picked out the pale porcelain figure with gouged eyes
Not literally delved from her preciousness
But her eyes so smudged they look infinitely empty
Only allowing slight hazel to penetrate the surface
Barely letting her truly see
Did I feel the need to save her?
From coercion?
Because her pale pottery is dressed up in brisk blue and blushed red
Her body is wrapped in webs of old textile
It all feels involuntary
She’s dressed to the nines in blouses and lace
But plainly suffering under all those dreaded rags
I merely picked her from three
And now I want to rewrite her story
Recoat her blackened eyes with a chance at seeing clearly
I can stare at myself for hours
My skin furnished with freckles big and small
Shoulders broad
Each chewed fingernail holding anxieties
Shapeless breasts awaiting arousal
I study my bodice in the mirror
How do women have it so easy?
Catcalled from across the highways
We are applauded for our physique from afar
And then shamed for lacking or having too much
I take back saying women have it so easy
Because we easily get attention
Until it turns to judgment that follows us back to our reflection in the mirror
Fish are so stupid
Swimming
No goals
Aspirations
Responsibilities
Dependent on a person to change their wastewater
So fragile and hypersensitive to the oxygen all of us complex people breathe
Such divergent creatures they are
Living simple little lives
In simple little habitats
Just
Swimming
Head held high
Head hanging heavy
Incompatible emotions
Until uphill unisons
Fall to realization
Boding beauty by both behaviors
She loves where the surface meets the sun
Small whitecaps kiss her hips as she floats
The salt keeps her weightless beneath her long tail
You would think this floating being was a dolphin that needed air
But she was a mermaid!
Naked chest soaking up the sun
Her scales would be blinding to a human’s bare eye, or so she believes them to be
Brown hair is permanently crimped by the saltwater
It surrounds her, creating a fan garnished with matted braids
She held on tightly to spiraled shells in hopes of returning one to her lover
She spent her days searching for the shell that matched his eyes, but he is one of a kind
Her pondering keeps her company
For she is alone but never lets loneliness overcome her
Unaware of the way her body resembles the waves
Strong and striking
She embodies the ocean in all its forms
As she melts back into the beautiful abyss
She thanks the sun for being as giving as her beloved sea
