Pumpkin to poetry?

Blink

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(silence)

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Blink

These stitches are parts of a life. The eventual intent was to represent a whole, using a patchwork of parts. But for the whole to have meaning, there must be balance: silly and serious, the mind and the soul, the light and the darkness.
Some parts touch other lives. No matter what plain words I use, no matter what meaning I intend to convey, should I succeed in my intent, someone will take hurt. I don't seek this. Once words are here, whatever I do with this blog, I can't retract the act of having said them. And I could never forgive myself for acting irresponsibly.

Yet, there may be a way, a format for this dilemma. Perhaps? Maybe?

Powerful poetry that cuts to the core essence of meaning and yet remains ambiguous, anonymous, abstract. A friend recently found an example of precisely that and you can see it here

These words aren't left lying like broken glass for the poet's unknowing adversary to tread, unaware and bare-footed; and yet, razor-sharp, they cut to the quick, exposing his meaning.

"Poetry is language at its most distilled..."
I am a pumpkin. I don't even know what a conjunction is. Even I, familiar with challenge, daunt at this particular path.

Pumpkin to poetry ... it's like walking from Pluto to the Pleiades

It's so much easier to scuttle off and hide under the bed.

Blink

right! how can i say this? when i started this blog, i wanted to do a whole bundle of things. one thing was to write about particular bits that are important to me. good bits, bad bits, wonderful bits, sad bits. but as soon as I start writing about ... about ... some stuff ... like love and the sad bits .. like being held together, like being ripped to shreds, i realised i'd be writing stuff that would hurt someone else. okay, someone else might not pop in here, might not find this place, but if they did i KNOW they'd be hurt. how can i do that? how can i hurt someone like that? and yet there's things i need to say.

then a friend of mine found this poem. see, some bloke found a way to say the kinds of things what i need to say but no-one's been hurt. it's like magic but it's called poetry.

but i can't can't can't can't can't can't do this stuff, can't can't do it. but it's the only way ...

?

Blink

Astronauts on the Wobble space observatory have reported a barely perceptible puff of energy, discovered on an outer satellite of the distant Sol star system, some 18,923 million, parsecs from Pumpkin Minor. Scientists speculate some new form of infinitesimally small micro-nova resulting from the implosion of an unknown, rapidly rotating body, possibly having two floppy ears and a fluffy tail.

Blink

YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGH

Blink

...

(silence)

...

Blink

These stitches are parts of a life. The eventual intent was to ...