So 4 weeks ago my bestest friend Yoko, told me about how great of a time she had at this cafe for a poetry night. I wanted to attend really badly, but my mother was in town and I was just moving back into my Provo apartment from the east coast.
2 weeks later, it was poetry night again at the cafe. I was determined not to miss it this time, however, it was the first night that my boyfriend Justin was in town. I had no other choice than to drag him, I mean, invite him to the poetry party (He was such a good sport).
I had a blast listening to all the inspired works of poetry and realized, "Man, I miss writing poetry." I don't think I've written much poetry since...high school? So I was motivated to let the creative juices start flow once again.
As I was leaving poetry night I thought to myself, "The next time I come back, I'm coming back with a personal written poem in my hand to recite." Before leaving I was already thinking about what to write about, and the phrase ran through my mind, "The penny falls face down."
So now, there I was, last night... an hour before poetry night was to commence, and I had not began writing my poem yet. I sat in my room for an hour and wrote down 8 lines of ideas. Then Yoko and her friend Dan picked me up for the poetry night. Eeeekkkk...I'm not ready.
So I figured, I'd take the show on the road, and have to finish the poem on site. While sitting and listening to the other poets, I kept writing and reorganizing my thoughts into a carefully crafted artwork.
I leaned over and told Yoko, poetry is like any art. The longer you go without practice, the more difficult it may be to pick up the skill again. So my abilities to write, may still be a little rough. But in getting back into the swing of things, we all have to start somewhere.
With much excitement, the stage was quiet, and my poem was complete. I stood up with my rough draft at hand, and was ready to share my poem with the audience of fellow poets. And with sweet joy, I read the following work. I encourage you all to write your own poetry, and don't let the art form die, or fade away.
The Penny Falls Face Down
By Gioconda Velez
The penny falls face down,
And the world will pass right by.
He pleads, "Please stop to pick me up."
And you wont even try.
The penny slips face down,
And no person dares to reach.
A tear rolls down his copper cheek,
"He's a curse to all," we teach.
The penny rolls face down,
Ignored in his insignificant place.
No one dares to take the risk,
He's just a waste of space.
The penny drops face down,
And he never chose his fate.
He will slide and fall through cracks of time,
It almost feels too late.
The penny tumbles face down,
Its' worth may not seem much,
If society will just quit ridiculing
That superstitious touch.
The penny stops face down,
As mankind's most useless treasure.
His faith and hope inside is lost,
A good-for-nothing measure.
Now, what if that penny was a man,
With a soul that fell face down?
I dare you to take that penny...
And lift it off the ground.
*The funny thing was, this poem really just started out with a simple concept of a penny. While I was writing it, I felt a human emotional tie to the penny's sorrow, and decided to throw a twist on the ending. I really like where this poem went. I guess you can never anticipate where a single concept may take you, and where the journey of poetry concludes. :)
2 weeks later, it was poetry night again at the cafe. I was determined not to miss it this time, however, it was the first night that my boyfriend Justin was in town. I had no other choice than to drag him, I mean, invite him to the poetry party (He was such a good sport).
I had a blast listening to all the inspired works of poetry and realized, "Man, I miss writing poetry." I don't think I've written much poetry since...high school? So I was motivated to let the creative juices start flow once again.
As I was leaving poetry night I thought to myself, "The next time I come back, I'm coming back with a personal written poem in my hand to recite." Before leaving I was already thinking about what to write about, and the phrase ran through my mind, "The penny falls face down."
So now, there I was, last night... an hour before poetry night was to commence, and I had not began writing my poem yet. I sat in my room for an hour and wrote down 8 lines of ideas. Then Yoko and her friend Dan picked me up for the poetry night. Eeeekkkk...I'm not ready.
So I figured, I'd take the show on the road, and have to finish the poem on site. While sitting and listening to the other poets, I kept writing and reorganizing my thoughts into a carefully crafted artwork.
I leaned over and told Yoko, poetry is like any art. The longer you go without practice, the more difficult it may be to pick up the skill again. So my abilities to write, may still be a little rough. But in getting back into the swing of things, we all have to start somewhere.
With much excitement, the stage was quiet, and my poem was complete. I stood up with my rough draft at hand, and was ready to share my poem with the audience of fellow poets. And with sweet joy, I read the following work. I encourage you all to write your own poetry, and don't let the art form die, or fade away.
The Penny Falls Face Down
By Gioconda Velez
The penny falls face down,
And the world will pass right by.
He pleads, "Please stop to pick me up."
And you wont even try.
The penny slips face down,
And no person dares to reach.
A tear rolls down his copper cheek,
"He's a curse to all," we teach.
The penny rolls face down,
Ignored in his insignificant place.
No one dares to take the risk,
He's just a waste of space.
The penny drops face down,
And he never chose his fate.
He will slide and fall through cracks of time,
It almost feels too late.
The penny tumbles face down,
Its' worth may not seem much,
If society will just quit ridiculing
That superstitious touch.
The penny stops face down,
As mankind's most useless treasure.
His faith and hope inside is lost,
A good-for-nothing measure.
Now, what if that penny was a man,
With a soul that fell face down?
I dare you to take that penny...
And lift it off the ground.
*The funny thing was, this poem really just started out with a simple concept of a penny. While I was writing it, I felt a human emotional tie to the penny's sorrow, and decided to throw a twist on the ending. I really like where this poem went. I guess you can never anticipate where a single concept may take you, and where the journey of poetry concludes. :)
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