Skip to main content

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT by Serenity


This poem was written to show how aware I am of my own shortcomings…

 In several relationships both personal and professional I felt as though there were expectations that I couldn't meet and regardless of my explanations the same end result would surface. I can only be the best me and I only ask that I am accepted as I am. 

I never claim to be perfect and I have no problem admitting fault. I'm a simple woman with simple philosophies. Often misunderstood, I have also accepted this to be in my life. This is a piece of self-love, self acceptance and hope. 

Perfectly Imperfect

I never claimed to be perfect
I'm a woman
I forget more than I will admit
However, it doesn't mean I care any less
With a memory like mine
Lying is not an option
I love wholeheartedly
And I will give you my all
But perfect I am not
Karma is real to me
So deceitful actions
Don't make much sense to me
My desire is always to be better
Than I was yesterday
Which will never be as good
As I will be tomorrow
I never claimed to be perfect
I have a forgiving spirit
And I always strive to be the best
I can possibly be
I've experienced more than any woman should
But less than many have
I wake each morning, not knowing
Just what's in store for me
As though each day is an adventure in itself
Looking at life through the eyes of an innocent child
Because its those childlike innocent thoughts
That help me to see the good in all things
And though I see the good in all things
Even a child learns that though fire is magical
It only takes one burn to learn that its hot.
I never claimed to be perfect
Maybe perfectly flawed
As I learned to embrace the imperfections
I realized I'm perfectly the way I was made to be
I'm a woman
I've given up when I should have fought
And fought when I should have given up
I've loved when they didn't deserve it, been mistreated
Lord knows I didn't deserve it
Thought that I could change the world
And I did, maybe not THE WORLD,
but the world FOR someone.
I never claimed to be perfect
But Someone thinks I am.
~

Serenity was born in the diverse and fast moving Queens, New York. During her childhood however, she wound up moving around and eventually settling in South Florida. All these places only gave her a better view of the world and what it has to offer. Serenity was always a fan of the arts and found herself taking dance, drawing, sketching, and writing as well. However, it was the passing of her grandmother that had Serenity writing her first original poem. Life experience after life experience gave her the fuel and inspiration to create "Answer True", a piece that got attention from not only people in her circle, but other poets as well. In November 2010, she took the stage for the first time at Verbal Calligraphy, there she performed one of her most requested works to date "Superwoman". Serenity prides herself on making poetry that helps others through the adversity in their lives. Recently, she has begun work on two major projects "Serenity in a Sea of Chaos" an audio album, and a book "Rose Petals of Serenity"  to reach more people worldwide. Her influences range from Maya Angelou to Nikki Giovanni to Langston Hughes. You may connect with Serenity through Facebook here. 

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 

Comments

  1. Beautiful and perfectly inspiring. This world needs more encouragement like this. Thank you again for sharing your gift!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

  This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with.  I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC    by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night.  I am the tough green

WINTER SOLSTICE: A GIFT OF LOVE by Carolyn Riker

I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me   slow down   until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without