The Week of Hectic Poeming

The first thing that you may notice here is that for the title of this post, I created a word. Poeming is not a word. As adding ing to any word makes it a verb, something you are doing. Working, yep, walking, yep you can do that, standing, yep you can do that to, but poeming. Well you can’t do that, what you do is read a poem. So the verb to your poem is read, or if in the act of, reading. Of course he or she could “have” been reading something in the past, but you can also be reading right now. Which you are if I have not scared you off yet.

A poem is a thing so it is a noun. As most people know and all writers know a noun is a person place or thing. So in the end you verb with noun or a noun verbs you or your noun and so on. So with this crazy needless explanation of verbs and nouns out of the way lets discuss poeming. A poem can be a short whimsical writing or a long winding tell of love, or woe, or a hero, or, well, anything your mind can come up with. A poem is yours, your thoughts, your insights, your world view, whatever you the poet can come up with. The world is a blank canvas of ideas. No two poems will ever sound the same, unless we let AI write them, then they are limited, but no, we are talking about humans writing their likes, dislikes, thoughts, desires, loves, and despairs all onto the blank canvas offered to us by the world.

You can write your poem on a computer, which is were most of mine end up. You can write your poem on a napkin, you can write it in a book, you can write it with a hook. You can include it every place you go. Sometimes they just glow. Then you have a flow. Sometimes they get a look.

I go though this cycle of rhyming everything every couple months. Many poems were written through the years which were lost or deleted as many decades passed before I started to put my thoughts on the Internet. There were many times that I did put what I was writing on the Internet and then deleted it days, weeks, or months later.

Below is an example of one I called “The Empath”

Born with a gift
Sometimes causes a rift
Sometimes a lift

Some say it’s all in the mind
Could be a crime
All will know in time

Always present
Sometimes I resent
Always hesitant

For the feelings I feel
The emotions I peel
Are all very real

From around the block or around the globe
These feelings are sometimes quite cold
This statement may be quite bold
Emotions can be hard to hold

For I am an empath
I did not choose this path
But I have done the math
I feel the pain and the wrath

The need to help everyone fills me every day
The overload sometimes get in the way
But still I do not sway

More empathy is what this world needs
Only we can sew the seeds
Only we can mow the weeds
I wish more would do good deeds.

So, a few months ago I went on a few day spree of writing a poem for every good idea that came into mind. I ended up writing 15 poems in a few days.

Over the next couple days I will be retyping them, along with some new ones, here on Medium. The rhyming is quite easy for me. But I hope it makes sense to thee. Follow me on this journey, I assure you that we will not need an attorney. These are just poems and rhymes from my mind, so please be kind. So now off to write I go. I hope it’s a good show.

— Bryan Vest

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Server Admin for over 20 years before PTSD driven anxiety got the best of me. Now I have slowed down and decided to chase my passion of writing for a while.

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Bryan Vest

Bryan Vest

Server Admin for over 20 years before PTSD driven anxiety got the best of me. Now I have slowed down and decided to chase my passion of writing for a while.