3 Poems
I learnt that we all have a poem. This one is called life. The one, one tries to keep writing everyday. I mean, some are going line by line while others are still figuring out how to spell their first words. One with feet or just how you stopped those to get one by a girl on the side of a street. How her poem started with a business along the lines of a poems purpose or how yours can start with whatever is your purpose. So one would ask, what is your poem about? Is it about those siblings who stopped to get one about how they both broke the same arm on the same day. The lady who has been waiting to turn the age twenty six on the twenty sixth. The man who cried on the sidewalk because he had to send his baby girl off to the army that day. Were you the same man who came back with his daughter to give me a thank you, how she made it back home and got a chance to read it. Maybe you were the first lady I wrote a poem for, about her twentieth anniversary or did you come back two years later speaking of a divorce and stating how we should start this new poem with new beginnings. Are you the man who saw his brother drown at the age of ten and said his would be about how god uses things to save people and tell of how one day a typewriter will save you. Is it about a man who doesn't know if he should pick his girlfriend up from rehab. Is it about a man who doesn't know if he has cancer but knows you can write a poem for his seven year old son just in case he does. The man who just misses someone. Is it about a blind girl who sees you in New York and you question if she can see me now, she gets many about how she is your biggest fan. Is it the man who said do not read his poem out loud about love because he will be saving it until he gets under the moon with his. Is it about the lady who just sent her kids off to college and she said she had nothing else to do but get a poem for them because her house was empty. Is it about the girl on the side of the street who sells hope or the lady she saw on the same stool smoking dope. Are you the man I was dancing with while selling poems holding the beef jerky sign on the side of the street. Did you come over to get one about how god has you out here holding this sign because that was better than what you were doing before. I learnt that we all have a poem. This one is called life.
apoemspurpose@gmail.com
Well my name is Haley. Haley Clancy. I didn’t really know how to make an author’s bio. But I grew in the suburbs outside of Pittsburgh after my father was drafted to the NFL. Parents divorced, my two sisters and I were raised by a single mother who was determined to know that we know to have faith. When I was about sixteen, I strolled by a lady with a typewriter selling poems on my phone and set out to get my own. To one day do the same thing. I did. I am trying. But I won’t go into my life changing moment but it was a time I knew my life needed changing. So you ask, what happened? I am nineteen now, I have a business called a poems purpose. Which is basically, a poem for your purpose. I sit waiting on my dreams in The Strip District, the street of Pittsburgh of where this girl found her word. And whatever else this poem may one day say or just for yours right now just email apoemspurpose@gmail.com today!
by Haley Clancy
I learnt that we all have a poem. This one is called life. The one, one tries to keep writing everyday. I mean, some are going line by line while others are still figuring out how to spell their first words. One with feet or just how you stopped those to get one by a girl on the side of a street. How her poem started with a business along the lines of a poems purpose or how yours can start with whatever is your purpose. So one would ask, what is your poem about? Is it about those siblings who stopped to get one about how they both broke the same arm on the same day. The lady who has been waiting to turn the age twenty six on the twenty sixth. The man who cried on the sidewalk because he had to send his baby girl off to the army that day. Were you the same man who came back with his daughter to give me a thank you, how she made it back home and got a chance to read it. Maybe you were the first lady I wrote a poem for, about her twentieth anniversary or did you come back two years later speaking of a divorce and stating how we should start this new poem with new beginnings. Are you the man who saw his brother drown at the age of ten and said his would be about how god uses things to save people and tell of how one day a typewriter will save you. Is it about a man who doesn't know if he should pick his girlfriend up from rehab. Is it about a man who doesn't know if he has cancer but knows you can write a poem for his seven year old son just in case he does. The man who just misses someone. Is it about a blind girl who sees you in New York and you question if she can see me now, she gets many about how she is your biggest fan. Is it the man who said do not read his poem out loud about love because he will be saving it until he gets under the moon with his. Is it about the lady who just sent her kids off to college and she said she had nothing else to do but get a poem for them because her house was empty. Is it about the girl on the side of the street who sells hope or the lady she saw on the same stool smoking dope. Are you the man I was dancing with while selling poems holding the beef jerky sign on the side of the street. Did you come over to get one about how god has you out here holding this sign because that was better than what you were doing before. I learnt that we all have a poem. This one is called life.
apoemspurpose@gmail.com
- Haley Clancy
I.
I heard the moon yelling last night
I asked the darkness to express
How the stars kept shining
Even in the sky of mess
Cause I ask of its constellations
How he has yet made it back to the sun
How the Big dipper keeps turning
Hoping to find the point of one
Cause if I wished on a dandelion
Or an atom
How day by day
This world turns to what I can’t fathom
So I wish for help
I wished for a savior
I need a sunset
This can’t wait til later
I hear the moon crying
Oh how the sun never rose
He gave her the light
The dark he chose
II.
Well
someone said of how we are all naked
Something about how God is still making our clothes
I unknowingly responded with all my sizes
Hoping to cross into stories about nails
Because I have yet to find who hammered these holes
Well
It just had to been something I could try on
I know a pair of earrings could fit
Maybe I can take one of your coats
I promise, doesn’t even need to be one you would miss
I know of how I put my father's shoes on that one time
ohh how I fell in the mirror with my mother's heels of clear
Because I know of all of what daddy had to tackle
All of what momma’s heart said not to fear
Well
I can understand if I’m still birthing the last touches
Or did you know of how my white shirt would go with dark pants
Or maybe I am in need of plenty of shoes
Ohh how I would love for the ones needed to dance
Well
I pray that shipping is not backed up
God please tell me they gave you the option to next day
But if you never knew that you weren’t stripped
How would you back the part the cloth would play
Well
I guess of all that you bare
Like nothing else, this is something that could be perfect
I was naked once and well over twice
Asking, how it just became the mirror verses the verses
Well
Somebody said God was making my clothes
This was what the whole thing was about
God maybe still sewing
But look down, he didn’t leave me without
III.
Let me tell you a story
About a girl who was more than what we thought
Had depths within her ocean
And gave breathe to every fish that was caught
They roamed her day and night
Exploring the beauty that she brings
Making themselves at home
Happily she praised the like queens and kings
Though more and more came
Many and many left without a goodbye
She still remembers them one by one
From the first one who said "hi"
Although some have more meaning
Because they traveled deep into her sand
Where many didn't stay
Or have the courage to withstand
But the oceans that run deep
Are the ones we never notice
Due to its calmly flowing waves
And that sunset that takes all our focus
It's depths are what we forget about
At least it was something we all tried to do
We felt if we stayed above the water
That everything else would too
That if we chose to dive
And find where her beauty starts
Although we might not have made it back
We still would have seen her deepest parts
That her beauty would so mean much more
To those who knew the reason
Though sometimes she has high tide
Only you would know it's due to the season
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