Today is the final episode of season 2 of our lovely series here known as Platt's Portrait where we primarily focused on the behind-the-scenes of Platt's poetry. I recorded a long one-hour final episode that dealt with the concept of communication in the modern era. When I finished recording the episode and sat back to think about it, I was overwhelmed by a desire to not post it, to keep the contents of the recording a secret. Of course, I know why my mind has chosen this action but, you may be more confused than I am. Simply put, I have written all I had to say in today's episode and I have posted the poems. These three short beautiful poems express exactly what is going on within the world of platt and why these last few episodes have been so uncouth. I am, in a sense, keeping a secret from you all by locking away my voice, but sometimes things are better left on the page. Sometimes you don't need to say anything, you just need to watch, listen and observe. As a writer, I choose to communicate through words written on a page that can never speak back to me, and I cast my most vulnerable thoughts into the world for all to see. I do this without shame, worry or hesitation. If I were to be asked to do the same thing, in front of people, without pages, I would not freeze, I would adapt and move forward as if all is fine, whilst deep down experiencing extreme discomfort. It is important, that humans in their search for effective communication, communicate in ways that make them feel comfortable, or the messages being sent will come off poorly and lead to silence among friends that may last as long as forever because one thinks all is well, and the other is to hurt to speak. Be it writing or speaking, texting or chatting, one thing is certain in life, words are powerful. There is an old saying about how sticks and stones may break bones but words can never hurt me. I think this statement is utter rubbish. Sticks and stones may break bones but broken things can be healed, words leave scars along the heart and scars never leave us. Ramble aside, if you wanna know more about me this week, just read the poems, if you came here for long-winded chatter, this is not it. I do apologize.
Secondly, If you have the time, write us a poem about your summer and send it in the comments or to us. We really wanna know. My summer poem would go something like this, the ups were high but the lows went to hell, while in bliss, I got comfortable and lost sight of the pendulum, that swung towards me in vengeance, once a happy season, of love and joy, now drenched in the sorrow of one moment, my mind so obsessive it cannot forget, I welcome autum not with a pep in my step, not with an eager heart, not with an open or closed mind but with silence. The silence of this world shall embrace me, as I try to pull myself out of a single moment of misery, so that I may see the beauty of life's masterful tapestry.
