My First Poem

I have never written a poem on my own before and I don’t know how this happened. I wrote this, on my phone (which is very unpoetic of me) and in less than ten minutes. It just poured out (probably because it’s not very good, but I suppose you should never ignore what your mind sends you). It is dark and personal but I felt like posting it. I teach poetry comprehension on a daily basis, but I have always struggled with writing it. So here you go guys, my first poem:


I couldn’t have known when in your arms
That you were longing for something else, somewhere else
Away from my cries and outstretched arms

I couldn’t have known why the tears in my blue eyes
Mirrored the tears in your blue eyes
I couldn’t have known how my screams echoed around an empty room
The pictures of faraway places ripped from the walls
You would never go there

When I laughed it broke your heart
I didn’t understand, you thought
I didn’t yet know pain, yet I saw it everyday
In your white knuckles and your strained smile
Assuring visitors of my placidity

Now, a woman, I see you smile
Sometimes you laugh
But she knows the pain you harbour
She remembers the tears
She remembers studying your face, searching for comfort and hope

The baby
The girl
The child

Don’t worry guys, I’ll be back to my weirdly humourous self soon.

44 thoughts on “My First Poem

  1. deepbluesandseafoamgreens says:

    ME LOVE! Honestly, the “white knuckles and strained smile” was a perfect image. And OOH if these bursts of poetry come, LET THEM POTTER ON DOWN TO CUPID AND CATS! Eeeeeeeeek yay!

    • janeybgood says:

      Thanks Amanda! I felt I couldn’t, and maybe I can’t, but this just came out. I suppose it depends on what’s going on in your life.

      That beautiful letter to your mother was poetic in its own way. It was simply lovely!

      • amandalyle1986 says:

        Aw thank you!

        I think you’re right, you have to be in a certain place/time in your life to write poetry. I used to write poetry as an angst-ridden teenager, but haven’t really tried since. I really admire you for putting yourself out there and going for it. πŸ™‚

    • janeybgood says:

      Exactly. Even if this is pretty bad (I think even the best poets would spend longer than ten minutes writing poetry ha) it just flowed out and then I felt maybe there was a reason for that. Anyway, thanks for reading πŸ™‚

  2. janeybgood says:

    Thank you. I can never really pin myself down in the blogosphere. I wish I could stick to one thing but this happened and I just went with it.

    Ah yes, angst-ridden poetry. Been there. Reading “The Catcher in the Rye” and listening to Nirvana πŸ™‚

  3. dweezer19 says:

    How many young ones sense this longing within the arms that cradle them? I loved it. Poerty should be honest, if nothing else. I see perfectly prosed poetic construction every day, but so much of it lacks heart and truth that its balance rings hollow. This was beautiful. Keep writing from your soul.

    • janeybgood says:

      Thank you for such a lovely comment πŸ™‚ I really didn’t plan any of this. Nor did I ever really fully think about the subject matter; these must have been feelings trying to come out.

  4. weight2lose2013 says:

    I loved it. When the words flow, write ’em down. Keith Richards once said that he didn’t write the songs, they wrote themselves. When emotion takes over, it makes for some powerful stuff on paper.

  5. Jess says:

    I think some of my best writing comes in spontaneous bursts. I haven’t been writing as much poetry or fiction these days as I used to but some of my best poems literally flew through my fingers to the pencil onto the paper in a matter of minutes! So there is no shame in that. This is a beautiful piece, thank you for sharing!

  6. Janna's LifeDay says:

    Keep going! This is good! I felt the sadness and desperate longing in the words.

    Please don’t downplay your creativity and writing “talent” — if you don’t like your offerings, how can we?

    Oh, and I write poetry from my phone all the time. And I carry a small notebook. You never know when inspiration will hit.

    • janeybgood says:

      I’m not sure really. I suppose it just came to me, because it’s not something I think about enough. It was probably stored in my subconscious and flowed out when I decided to let it. Thanks for commenting πŸ™‚

  7. reocochran says:

    This was very serious, very heartfelt and your message was a sad and lonely one. I am sorry that your mother never truly realized that you were all she needed to travel, to enjoy life’s voyages and you needed her presence. You felt that loss, even as a baby, child and daughter. So sorry, you deserve a big, huge hug, Jane! Very powerful poem, I would not change a thing, my dear! xo, Robin

    • janeybgood says:

      Thanks Robin. My mother and me are very close now, and she is one of my best friends. When I was young though, she really struggled. She is such a great mother, but I always knew that she didn’t enjoy the role when I was very young. Nowadays, she relishes it. It was just a difficult time in her life I suppose. Thanks for reading and for your lovely and considerate comment πŸ™‚

  8. Wordifull Melanie says:

    Ok, missy. This is really good. Don’t discount that.

    It evokes emotion and paints a vivid picture. You cannot ask for much more.

    And as far as ten minutes and no revisions… sometimes they burst forth fully formed (mine often do..and when that happens I simply let them live in their true form) other times you sit to write and take time to craft a poem. It is all good as long as it makes one think/feel/experience. πŸ™‚

    Favorite lines:
    I couldn’t have known why the tears in my blue eyes
    Mirrored the tears in your blue eyes


    In your white knuckles and your strained smile

    • janeybgood says:

      Thank you so much Melanie. Your praise means so much.
      I actually found the whole process quite emotionally difficult and draining. After I had written it, I did feel good in a way because I had kind of offloaded but at the same time, I felt this inexplicable sadness. I have such respect for you, it is not an easy process.

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