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Edinburgh (the poem that this post used to be)
Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on St. Giles Street.
Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013
The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
scattered across the ground,
a blue so seemingly infinite yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
complementing each other
as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks
letting thoughts fly free,
releasing love out into the horizon.
If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
it will surely die,
but even so,
I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.
Until I saw the sky and eggshells today
Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
remind me of the freckles on your face.
We need to be wide-open-free,
we need to fly,
without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.
We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky
on wings of letting go....
so that we can once again feel with purity,
so that we can hold each other ever closer.
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012
~Sand Castle De Mal~
Beauty sails along the shores of life
Out there broken dreams form above sand dunes
Silent, God listens to the triumph of his creation
3 line verse
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015
Close your eyes and forget the rain
Dream about the sun and heat
a sunny summer day
Dream of waves who sigh
so quiet on the beach
Swimming naked with the one you love
The dream of happiness
is more than the dream
A dream about strawberries with cream on
Do not forget the roses and violets
that smells so good
Running barefoot in the freshly cut grass
Close your eyes and dream your dreams
Daydreaming as sweet and good
they are secret, I will not share them with anyone
Imagine if life was a dream .....
A wonderful dream
and the world was full of love
and intimacy between all the people on earth
My dreams are made of
hope, faith and love
Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012
Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation: a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; an extra-strength sleeping pill
pulling the masses into slumber,
and away from the awakened truth
that such supposed salvation
is an illusory ticket far too easy to obtain
for it to be real—
a discriminatory, fairy tale-damnation
that multiplies the division
of "Us and Them."
Too many people hand out the easy tickets,
then cut and light the tree:
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into the mortar of temples designated as sacred,
while dogmatic shears amputate roots from the sky.
Too many people preach
about a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path
that leads towards the kingdom within,
and live the sacrifice because it feels right.
Again and again,
the ticket isn't so easy.
We must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs, until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.
For 27 years, 46664 was etched into the bark
of a branch in the road.
When forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then, the wood was made into crutches
for people to say,
"M will fix it; M will do this, M will do that;
M will save us, just wait and see."
M is finally free. Yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us;
he survives as spirit-seeds.
We must cease to lean upon crutches;
we must purge the pill from our blood,
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our hearts,
before the vision withers completely,
and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans;
weakened hands and arms unable to lift their weight
held in our own hands all along,
held in our hands all along.
December 7th/8th, 2013
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013
* ~Dark Silver Haze~ *
(side#1) (side #2)
come taste life ---------- Heart-warming wine
old and stale, ---------- Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished, --------- Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
the lowest feeling ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky ---------- How much is lost
hollow memories ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
weak limbs, overpower ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights -------- None left to deny
everything ends -------- Insight in view
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
torn from reality -------- Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow -------- Beauty from pain
bitter and dull, --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**
~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
When did a bed become your prison
I see your strength absorbed
Absorbed by the mattress
I turn you
Trying to prevent sores
Who would have thought soft sheets
Could cut like glass
I hold on to you
The younger you
Remembering your smile
I had thought you to be
The most beautiful woman in the world
It is said that boys fall in love with their mothers
What I miss most
Yes most of all is laughter
Those times no one else existed
The moments when we were the best of us
Before life became real
Chasing of dreams
I thank you for my humor
These were not accidents
They sprouted from the ground you nurtured
The time you spent
The cheering I heard as I lived my journey
I knew I could always come home
Now you are home
Let me read to you my stories
We still have smiles to share
You who I love
Who cared for me
I will not abandon you to a strangers care
I will usher you to your beginning
This bed can't hold one as strong as you
One day soon
You will skip into paradise
You will pick daisies
You will place them in your long flowing hair
When the time is right I will join you
When I have accomplished all that I need to do
I will miss you
I will cry for myself
Not for you
Because I know
You live beyond this room
I will once again
You are the most beautiful
Woman in the world!
Dedicated to my Friend Armand.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
(For my friend Aisling: da'iman 'amal)
In the night that runs on fear, smile at me.
When nightmares haunt, laugh at me.
When demons show their ugly masks, beam at me.
And always, ever have hope.
When your head is so full it cascades, stare at stars.
As thoughts spill ferociously, softly seek them.
Forget thousands of misplaced words, see glimmers
Of hope, always have hope.
Days where you can't hear your thoughts, listen to music.
Minutes failing to making sense, immerse in singing.
'Seconds' a word without meaning, tune in harmony.
Believe in hope, there always is hope.
When nothing rhymes, you almost lose it,
In darker days, you cannot meet it,
In doubt, despair, or anger, it will elope,
But it will return, not ever lose hope!
January 21, 2017
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth
Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth
Raw exposure of glory days forgone
Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm
Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2016
through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..
with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..
this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..
simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..
fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..
therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..
revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..
to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..
regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..
with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..
broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..
for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..
tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..
becoming one; beautifully and with faith..
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011
I shall meet thee in the summer of thy heart,
where we once walked head to each
elegant upon the world....
And had not a care but for little winds of love
winking there in the dreams of trees,
laying upon me to so delicately,
tickle with your autumn hair,
always so soap-scented you
Touch me where I had not known
the ease of such wonder in your eyes,
splendor only for a great king ----
but I a hopeless romantic muse,
with little empty pockets blessed
with thy precious petal,
am richer than any lord!
I shall wait for thee in our golden glade,
the heart which flows the waterfall....
by the dawn of your sweet embrace,
in the summer of thy heart,
I shall wait....
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
Soft wind, warm and weightless
That brushes my cheeks in cool of day
And on warm moonlit nights of summer
Let me lay upon your expansive wings
Let me breathe deeply of your spirit
Carry me o’er God’s beautiful earth
Carry me across the turquoise seas
Where silence lies supreme as dolphins play
Listen as their bodies slice the oceans deep
As the sun seems to linger enjoying the view
Let me down for a while to walk bare feet upon warm sands
Let me frolic with gentle white crested waves, then
Carry me far beyond blue heaven’s dome
Carry me to my Fathers’ home
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011
I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010
There is a sacred place, beyond the deep blue skies
While living, we cannot go, and where birds cannot fly
A vast, mysterious realm, not meant for human eyes
Where strong forces gather, waging war from on high.
A war for the hearts and the minds of our souls
By the enemy of God, that dark serpent of old
Who lusts for men's lives, even though he well knows
That Christ's work is done, and He sits on His Throne.
The prince of this world does not want us to see
That the power of God can transform you and me
Living Word, that can change us within, Spirit breathed
Like those birds soaring high, lifting hearts when we read.
There is a place, far away, where birds cannot go
Yet someday, the saints who believe Him will know
That great haven of heaven, from Christ will be shown
A bright new tomorrow, where the river of life flows.
Written on 5/27/2015
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015
In tune with this familiar vibe, let’s wonder how it might be
Across the room our eyes will meet, a set of four
In a place setting reserved for two, captivated
Our everyday routines and thoughts will speak
Through the eyes, uninhibited, grooving in the same skin
Once upon a raging fire we’ll celebrate
The memory of that zing thing, we'll watch as it
Circles slowly into softer flames, flickering
Well-suited as old comfortable shoes
And continue enveloped in life's mystical sound
More sensible, aware of the need to be inward
Or outward at different times, we'll find pleasure
In being tired wild things, slowing down in our swings
If it breaks and cracks we’ll pledge not to notice
So, just for the sake of thinking that it might not last
Before it’s even begun, let’s just wish upon hope
Until we meet, and vow to be good to each other
In this moment, tonight
Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013
I write each letter by hand in careful cursive.
I want every sentence to be pretty,
to look feminine and delicate -
to soften the ugliness you face everyday.
After each line, I let the ink dry.
You don't deserve smudges.
You don't deserve any of this.
My words are foolish,
full of meaningless descriptions
of meaningless events.
But I can't sit here at this polished desk -
in this cozy room in this quiet house
on this peaceful street
and write what I'm really thinking.
I can't be selfish.
So I keep writing my careful cursive
on my pretty stationary.
I keep sending my meaningless letters
into the ugly world - to wherever you are.
And no matter how many times
I open the mailbox, I'm never prepared
for that hideous stamp,
that heartless phrase:
"Return to Sender."
For Michael's "Boomerang" contest
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013
In my field of dreams I see you
Walking towards me
With that smile on your face
With promise and hope in your eyes
Somehow your reflection has gone dim
My hope at times too
Then I remember the life you lived
It was all about hope
All about not giving up
Never forgetting to smile
That will always remain –
A bittersweet memory
Times like tonight you are so close by
But I can feel your breathe against my skin
I can feel the warmth of your touch
It’s not in the things you said,
It’s in the way you did them
Even when I miss you
Still, I am thankful
I was blessed with you
Even if just for a little while
Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2012
The Celtic dreams come forth through auric visions of an all-seeing eye.
An ancient calling where the mystic rivers flow down a rugged mountain
while Angels bathe in the springs of an everlasting and radiant beauty.
The Soul grasps at memories enfolding within fields of emerald green,
where the sun kisses the golden barley as it dances softly to a warm,
I see my blessed star once more awaiting me upon the great golden plain,
enchanting the beautiful songbirds’ sweet melodies, and holding the air
one breathes. I come on the breath of a sigh, as the haunting Celtic pipes
are calling breathlessly to your adoring beauty, with true angelic music
playing wondrous tunes to you over the mountains forever more.
From the Kingdom of Arrach, I stand looking out over a magical mountain
river from which mighty waters roar, and find deep ethereal senses pure
where the inner eye sees through murky depths, on the edge of a dark
mysterious voyage toward the dreams of my past. Stars twinkle in an
azure sky, and within these stars my Diamond Queen is shining, as liquid
gold melts blending gently with radiant colors of a misted celestial light.
I stand as the true power of an ancient time, and the past lives live on
within my warrior heart. High above the mountain an eagle spreads its
wings, evoking the horizon, and sounding soft echoes as an affectionate
calling. My beloved, this Celtic heart beats only for you. Come to me from
your star, and we shall join once more, uniting dreams under the sleeping
eyelids, and later awaken the whispers in the seed and pollen floating in
the enchanted night air.
The eagle circling ever so slowly in descending circles, with a halo vision,
falling to the spirit of Celtic beauty. A flaming heart burns once more, you
come as promised, eclipsing upon this earth. I kneel before you my gracious
one to softly kiss your breathless petals. A thousand dreams take flight. The
lonely wolf on the highest pinnacle of Arrach awaits his love as the eagle flies
in search of a new Celtic dream to be reborn into this life.
Lighting moonbeams dance with the shadows of sparkling starlight glistening
silver, born into an existence from a black void of nothingness. The wolf and
the eagle shall now join as one in human shape and form. It’s at this moment
that new legends arise in the sunsets, holding your slender fingers to my heart
with a deepest joy that skips inside a chain that kisses your every command.
And now behold the glory of the coming, as light explodes in such colored hues.
If I could blow onto your hair a gentle whisper where a Soul floats, breathing
warm treasure sparkles, with one very special gleam. Once more King Aird Righ
and his Diamond Queen come forth to redeem again the mantle of Celtic glory
and storied greatness.
A gift gem of a thousand lifetimes, beyond dreams of sweet honey, awakening
in the morning I bask in your very light and mythical presence. On the breath
of a sigh you come from your peaceful sleep, called by our Love speaking from
our ancient time, and with each passing moon, I sense while gazing at the stars
ineluctable feelings and emotions as the divine dewdrops of the morning speak.
You are the greatest jewel these blue eyes shall ever see—a diamond shining
bright in my darkest hours—you are my love Supreme. This Soul calls over the
ocean waves, as each echo in your voice ripples like a tiny humming bird with
its heart beating so rapidly and flowering kisses on your soft and sweet dreams.
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (August 25, 2015) (Free Verse)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
My hands and feet are numb
for I am cold and I have no
home to give me warmth.
A home and warmth are two
things I search for that is why
people call me a bum.
I have not eaten but I have
prayed and my prayers have
not yet been answer for I have
not eaten in days.
So I'll just lay in my place of
sleep and pray once more as I
search for warmth, for I have
found my home, The streets.
Copyright © THE POET 174 | Year Posted 2008
This morning I wrote a poem
about a yellow heart
pining for red fusion,
in a desperate attempt
to shake the fruit
And tonight I am alone
without tangerine lips
or the temptation of apple,
carefully watching familiar verses
and fanatically dance around
like a final punctuation mark
or an overused cliche,
while my hands whittle metaphors
into a quick-witted instrument
sharp enough to scrape
the smeared imagery
off the sidewalk of poem,
Still I am not sorry
the fruit has not
to kiss my weary head,
it takes an overly cautious yellow
to see the perfect shade of red
Copyright © Melissa Wadkins Patterson | Year Posted 2006
Green - I have seen you somewhere within my evergreen soul
Where the Omniscient plays his flute
To rejuvenate the tired ones - scattered by the humdrum of daily chores
His idiosyncratic tune soothes my heart
Green - I have seen you somewhere within the desolated dry lands
Where you assure us of a definite return
Spiralling with the next rain to come - with the seeds of new love
Sprouting with our endless hopes - in the hands of caressing farmers
Farmers of life too
Green - I have seen you somewhere within the falling leaves
Burnt by the desires of their own - dejected souls
Still they fall on the ground from where they got nourishment
Mix them with their mother to make her fertile
To maintain the perpetual flow of love
To the next progeny
An evergreen dream
Green - I have seen you somewhere within ...
My desperate hopes
Copyright © Anindya Mohan Tagore | Year Posted 2016
This world needs more hope
Mushrooms that fly
And swings with no rope
Under bright stars and night sky
Mushrooms sprout in the black forest of lore
Under which live dancing elves
Who give hope by the score
Magical is laughter that fills young hearts
Hope and mushrooms
Now that's what we need
Hope gives happiness
And mushrooms our dreams
Inspired by Seren Roberts and her tablet! :)
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018
I do have purpose
that stays near
a constant reminder
of my inner child
As my conscienceness
shines through to create
a new perspective
I break out of my cocoon
Only to discover that
I find places where
the sanctity of my being
does not flow as it should
My intuition is what
guides me though
there is no longer the
desire for the constant
upheaval of tragedy to strike
On my journey I have
discovered that there
are many hidden truths
So as my spirit ascends
I am inspired by my bravery...
If I am frightened
by the visibility that
standing proud does to me
then I shall stand even taller
No longer will I fear
the degradation that
once was my shadow
there is no home here
for the shame any longer
And I will no longer be
swayed by the fragments of defeat
When I become sorely tempted by
And I think I can't
make it on my own
I will remember that
I am walking this
road of life for me...
Copyright © Christine Wessels | Year Posted 2007
STOP RIGHT THERE!!!
NOT SO FAST….
Just where do you think you are going??!!
Do you think you can just walk away!!
You have work to do.
Tighten up that Sonnet
Tidy up those rhymes
Feel the drumbeat of that meter
…the juxtaposed delight
….of sitting back and knowing
…..you finally got it……WRITE.
WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE!!!
You know you love it.
The torture of the keyboard
words tumbling from the pen
the all elusive end
DON’T GIVE ME THAT OLD SONG AND DANCE!!
Remember those first crumpled
DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE!!!
Have you forgotten that first poem??
The one you read to your dog?
in a whispered voice
as his tail wagged
and your voice
brushed his coat
YOU ARE A POET!!
like butterfly wings,
of the universe.
John G. Lawless
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2017
The light is muted,
glowing ever so faintly
and I cup my hands
to shelter it from
the harsh wind...
and my heart
does a triple dive
then beats back to normal
as I see that flame
fight, become steady,
and stand up against that wind.
I've seen this happen before,
but it always tries to shine forth
with a ferocity
that can only be fueled
by love and faith...
A different gust,
yet still it tries to beam...
This light amazes me
with its tenacity.
I go through life with
only a mere spark of it
in my heart
But how proud I am
to have been borne from it,
to have it with me,
burning in my soul.
This light is awe-inspiring...
with just a kiss from it
and warmth abounds,
never burning out,
rather, sharing that glow
to brighten lives.
I fear though,
for the light is muted,
glowing ever so faintly
and I cup my hands
to shelter it from
the harsh wind...
Taking deep breaths,
we search for ways
to make that flame
glow strong again,
burning as bright as before
A strike of a match
for a candle,
with its smoke weaving
its way to heaven,
to say a prayer
for that light
to keep on glowing
The wick may be short,
the wax melting faster
than we would want it to...
But the light is still there,
and that gives me hope.
Ilaw --pronounced 'ee-lao' as in 'how'; meaning "light"
"Ilaw ng tahanan" is a Filipino idiomatic expression
that refers to mothers;
This phrase can translate to "light of the home"
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)
Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.
Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
The stones settle,
Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.
We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner, for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:
"Honey, are you alright?"
(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)
There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-
boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...
And then serenity.
The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.
"I'm here now... and you're ok."
We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.
No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,
but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind,
we're not straining, we're not struggling,
we're not sinking, we're just fine.
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried,
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time.
Do you want me all the ways that I am?
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand.
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand,
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand.
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind,
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine.
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep.
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires,
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire.
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin,
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in.
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same,
pleading and begging for more than just a saying,
but to feel and to see that im not alone,
with being in this love thats overwhelming.
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark,
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark.
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire.
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or,
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out,
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out,
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close,
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go,
why these tears are building up behind my eyes,
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires
and it desires to be your wife.
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true,
tell my my dearest what I mean to you,
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013