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Jennifer Ward Poem
Hope
I think there is s a town in Mississippi where hope lives,
a place were clouds look like purple cotton candy in a bright blue sky.
Where the best of the best parade down main street every Saturday.
Imaginations run unabandoned like, preschoolers questioning everything and
encouraged to be loud.
Sister reality, rigid and uptight,
lines gardens and doorways in white picket fences.
Daisies in rainbow colors painted on the front.
Even her proper lenses do not damper our view of time.
But Hope,
this town in Texas or Mississippi or Milwaukee seems untrue.
Bigger than a giant and louder than the drum beats of my heart when i realized I
was in love with life.
Hope, huh,
a question on cloudy days,
a command on mornings too difficult to get out of bed,
an exclamation point chasing me away from my painful past urging me to break free.
a statement filled with a destination on days when I run, walk, swim and dream
for the directional compass of my life,
and hoping batteries are not needed.
Copyright © Jennifer Ward | Year Posted 2011
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Jennifer Ward Poem
She came to me.
Moving inside the winds of change and I saw her.
Opening my eyes wider than wide,
a newness washes over me
as though the previous years just melted away,
into something more, something real.
Stumbling, the floor opens beneath me and,
I'm falling
faster
further
unaware of my directions, I fly to her.
Fear only exist in her absense therefore,
I must clothe myself in robes of her spirit.
Her lips full, fill my daydreams,
Her eyes consume my nights.
The chess game of 10 years prior seem like an unessential waste of time
Yet, it marks our story,
traces our land,
flavors our history
Without it, she would be another's,
and I,
would be caught in the wind of something else.
Something loud and noisy,
empty of spirit,
closed to her and everyone else,
flying in circles,
lost in living
without love,
without passion,
without life.
Copyright © Jennifer Ward | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Jennifer Ward Poem
Perhaps she can love you more than me?
Her technicolor mesmerizes you anyway.
quality time shaped around sitcomes and commercial breaks
Sound bites interrupts the distance between us.
Perhaps she can love me too,
except, I'm not interested.
Her background noise creates headaches and heartaches
boredom masquerading as entertainment.
Does she have your heart now?
For, you only stare at her, so intently.
As though speaking a hidden language with your eyes.
Echoes of 'oks' and 'nothing is wrong', make up our dances.
Perhaps she can love you more than I?
For, your compass of emotions points towards the windows of her soul.
While I sit,
waiting for things to be different.
Copyright © Jennifer Ward | Year Posted 2011
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