Biography of Arik Fletcher
Like many people, I started writing poetry in my mid-teens to express my deepest and darkest emotions in a private and controlled outlet. This not only helped to bring a form of peace to my soul, but also brought a balance to my mind.
Over time the words and feelings developed, a certain flow or rhythm emerged which should hopefully become apparent to any readers. My inner most thoughts, my feelings, and my aspirations are all contained herein. So, why make all of these emotions public?
Writing poetry frees the mind and cleanses the soul, but this is only a temporary release as long as the words are kept secret. The only true way to set your heart and mind free is to release those inner most thoughts and feelings to the world.
So, to paraphrase W. B. Yeats; 'When you walk through these poems, tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.'
Arik Fletcher's Works:
Coming Soon: AB ORIGINE- the first decade of Nekatu Poetry
Arik Fletcher Poems
alone I walk the streets at night, alone I pray to end this life, alone I am, alone I stay, alone I live, in endless strife,
A Time For Now
a time to cheer, a time to cry, a time to live, a time to die, a time to sleep, a time to wake, a time for real, a time for fake,
These shades of long forgotten dreams, in memories long ripped at the seams, Through dormant thoughts within my mind,
A Soul A-Part
Each born a mass of jaggered shards, soon scattered like so many cards, as through the years each piece is turned, and joined or to the void returned,
Smile for me and I’ll be yours, souls entwined cross distant shores, Dream of me and I’ll be free,
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Staring at this blank page, Such a contrast to my mind, The emptiness of one all that the other wants to find.
Silence the anger and swallow the pride, stifle the scream and keep it inside. Focus the feelings that eat at your soul,
Incomplete right from the start, An empty space within each heart, Two souls without some vital part, Forever doomed to live apart.
Love is not a shade of skin, Nor can it ever be a sin, It has no form nor written guide, But comes instead from deep inside.
I am a creature of two halves, A demon of angelic wing, A siren to my fallen kin, A song for damaged souls to sing.
There he waits, against the light, A creature of the darkest night, Watching me, with long intrigue, I feel his pain, his great fatigue,
Searching for a life sublime, lost within a world of crime, few that reap though many sow, few that give though many stow.
Art Of Life
Sketch your life into my mind, Fill the shadows with your pain, Leave all troubled thoughts behind, Here with me you’re safe again.
In the dream I had last night,
I saw an angel dressed in white,
Surrounded by a shining aura,
A-kin to that of the aurora,
She turned and stared, her gaze like fire,
Her eyes, they made my head perspire,
And as I stared into those eyes,
My heart, it leapt into the skies,
At last I felt alive, and whole,