Hi! I'm Mae Foreman! 🎈 I am Greek, in my late twenties, born and raised and still living in a small town in Greece. To my great dismay I've only seen very little of the world; yet quite a lot of life! I've faced many hardships and made it through. Every day is a whole new life for me. Another battle to be fought, another war to throw myself into, another Odyssey, another triumph, another victory, another great loss, devastation or defeat. I started writing in my darkest hour and it brought me light. Simple as that. I joined WOL in an attempt to test my abilities and in order to read the work of other people; regular people like myself. I've read some wonderful poems and met some truly remarkable people. I've grown and evolved and I'm even starting to get over my fear of exposure! I am always eager to read, listen, collaborate, discuss, exchange opinions and experiment with words! And that's all folks! Fair warning! I do tend to blab a lot from time to time!
Fleeting -It's on my left arm; it sears. It's on my wings; I try to bear it; in tears. It's in my chest; It beats. It's in the air; I suck it in and it fogs my wits. It used to be inside my mother. It still resides within my father. It's growing inside my sister's womb, as we speak. It fills every second of my time; be it minute, hour or week... I have it here, somewhere...Among my daggers and swords... Look! It's almost out but it's still lit... -Lovely. Any last words? -Yes. I'd like some more of it! ------------------------------------------------------ It does not promise to deliver souls across the sea For it is not the ship of hope. It is meant for the Powers that Be that won't let me be; it was that or hanging rope. It is courtesy for the fragile fierceness that is my pen; and ash kicked at Their judging eyes It is the black garment meant to be worn only when I am in need of a good disguise. It is not the pulchritudinous bud of purple or white no fragrant blossom of a tropic shade! It is not the last crisp brushstroke of a spring night before rite of passage to summer is made. No hint of vague promise, no "perchance", “ perhaps”, no “maybe”, “possibly” or “might”. It stands for "I am mine"! May the old order collapse so that I alone decide what battles to fight! It is not plaintive of any permissions, no polite pray to be excused; feigning to be cordial. It is not the white glove of propriety, the polite way to offer a suggestion or proposal. It is not meant to poison you with doubt; albeit cryptic it is no vilifying naked tooth. It's an impression to hopefully lure the unbiased critic while taking the focus off of the dismal truth. It is meant to conceal, fog; a decoy till I make it safely outside; slip away when I must; be elusive. It is a meaningless empty herald that's there to hide the tedious person within; it's all illusive! It is the passport that will help me cross the border from cowardice to bravery; like so many before me- It is necessity; mere letters arranged in a certain order: Mae Foreman: It means nothing! It's just a name for me. "Art is the imaginary solution to a problem that is unsolvable in real life."
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Secret Truth (20/03/2019)
The Life Dreamt (15/03/2019)
Dream (meant mostly for the delusional or the happy) (12/03/2019)
Crossing Over to the Other Side (02/03/2019)
Listen well into the Night (24/02/2019)
The Inglorious End (24/02/2019)
Things That Look Alike (22/02/2019)
Keep it Close (19/02/2019)
Keep it Close (19/02/2019)
GR (In the South) (09/02/2019)
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