Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘poems’

Hello all!
Seems it’s been far too long since I posted here, not to worry. I’ve been writing and making merry… just not here.

I wanted to let everyone know that I am participating in the 13 Stories For Halloween again this year and am very thrilled to be a part of the collection over there — I will post the link as soon as the fun… I mean spookiness, begins.

Now… for the fun here. I am thrilled to share an amazing poem by an even more amazing young author that I feel very fortunate to call friend.
Cameron Eileen has been writing since a wee age (she’s all of “almost” 17 now). I read the poem I’m going to share for you and was blown away, and then she told me she wrote it when she was 11. Her words are so pure and honest and powerful. I will be sharing more from her in the future, to be sure.

Show some love for Cameron in the comment section after you breathe in this beautiful poem —

image

The Mirror ~~~

by Cameron Eileen


Look in the mirror.
Do you see what I see,
Looking back at you and me?
That little blemish upon my nose,
And all those freckles!
Where did I get all those?
My tiny little lips and my curveless hips,
That’s all I used to see,
Until this smile finally found me.
Now, smile is all I do,
For I know what I thought was not true.
I know now that no one is perfection,
And all the mirror shows is a reflection.
Look in the mirror.
Do you see what I used to see?
If you do, look deeper,
And you’ll finally see me.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

everyone blames the poet
when there’s not enough blood on the page
flowing around the crevasses of every mind that begs the poet to bleed a bit more
grabbing hold of a soul here and a heart there
because everyone wants the poet to take it all away so they don’t have to stay there anymore
pausing when you read a word
wincing from the pain
laughing when you know you can’t feel anything that isn’t written in the blood of the poet
you take the poets words and walk around in a haze
just bleed a bit more
till the fire goes out and the wave stops rolling and the wind mellows to a breeze
everyone blames the poet
when the answers are so well hidden
like a flawless shell you spot when you’re walking that thin line between there and here
when the pretties aren’t neatly tied in a bow and handed to you
you have to walk a little longer
you have to bleed a bit more
everyone blames the poet for not supplying the world with wings but they keep saying jump
just jump
cut open a vein and let each word drip out
slowly
effortlessly
puddling on the page for everyone to read
everyone blames the poet when they watch the waves come in and wash it all away
but we know
they’ll just bleed a bit more

Read Full Post »

the trouble with landmines,

you constantly look where your feet are planted,
the direction your toes are pointing,
you’ve navigated these fields before.
they try to stay hidden,
but your eyes are wide now,
you see them underneath the dandelions and the clover.

the trouble with landmines,

you pause just to hear the explosion,
quieting your breath to hear the snap of the trigger,
you brace for the blast.
blocking your movement in all directions,
zigging here but zagging there,
never a straight line.

the trouble with landmines,

you focus on the boom and not on your breath.

defuse them with a perfectly placed pause.

you can sit and wait,
you can run unafraid,
you can do both,
you should do both,

to avoid the trouble with landmines.

Read Full Post »

lightning strikes
i cover my eyes
weaving its way through the cracks
in front of us all
shouting at the storm
we steady ourselves on your words

lightning strikes
the waves start to crest
we close our eyes and dive
unafraid
we see you walking on the ocean
our beacon
our breath

lightning strikes
sudden and full of anger
we are unafraid
linking arms because together we are strong
and you
shouting at the storm
a chorus of screams building behind you

lightning strikes
trembling and wet
the waves beat us relentlessly
and still we stay
facing the storm
and you
in front of us all
walking on the ocean

I wrote this poem for a dear friend, Lisa Bonchek Adams, who recently found out she has metastatic breast cancer. She is sharing her story with all of us here — you need to read her, it will change you forever.

I also started a facebook page for her that I am inviting everyone to join called, The Adventures of Flat Lisa, so that we all can take her on our adventures or our daily lives. We are all truly connected in this world, so share yourself.

Read Full Post »

the shape I take
watching you navigate this weary world,
jumping over blocked paths,
cartwheeling around a sea of naysayers.

an old tree in the backyard,
once it was second base and now

it stretches out for you…
twisting and distorting its extended branches
reaching for you…

but never grabbing hold.

Read Full Post »

this is for the confused girl who sits at the table farthest from the window,
the one who orders her coffee without looking at the barista with his spiked hair and his milky skin, the one who sits without looking around, her full attention to the world just outside the window, never to the world that surrounds her.

this is for the hapless mother who forgot how to smile, the one who wakes every morning but can’t remember why, the one who sits up late when everyone else is asleep because it’s the only time she feels she can escape, she’ll lose herself in the pages of a book and dream of the places conjured by someone else’s imagination and she’ll forget how green her grass is.

this is for the friends who lost touch because someone said something a long time ago, their thoughts return to a time when they laughed but their hands never dial the phone, their fingers never push send on the apologetic email, they stay locked in the need for righteous indignation and they try to push back the memories of a forgotten time and they each are left with fading bits of yesterday.

this is for the daughter who wants so bad to be seen, a glance of recognition that never comes, the repeating scenes to prove herself that never work, the ongoing attempts to gain a love that is hidden from view, she becomes lost in the effort to be loved and misses the love being thrown at her from all directions by the people who see her in all her beautiful mess.

this is for the ones who open their eyes
this is for the ones who remember to breathe
this is for the ones who break themselves open
this is for the ones who hear the music
this is for the ones who feel
this is for the ones who love

this is for all of us who stare logic in the face and dare to defy it, we grab hold of our imperfections and hoist them over our heads for all to see, we willingly give our hearts to be broken again and again because broken hearts can heal, we tell ourselves we are awake and unafraid because soon we will believe it, we choose to revive the parts of us we thought were dead and we love with our whole heart and we watch as logic collides with the world spinning around us and we dance… to keep from falling.

Read Full Post »

i am recklessly guiding words on to this page, forcing them to infiltrate the battle lines in my mind, there are bombs bursting and gunfire and screams and taunts and snarls and the worst kind of laughter, i see it coming from you but you’re not even aware of my visions and neither am i, really, the scenes are choppy and scattered and out of sequence, there is no logic and yet i sit here and write them down and assemble this puzzle and look so hard at the words racing through my tired brain for that logic but it’s a blur, all of it, i wish i could will myself to believe the words, to grab them and shove them deep into my pockets so i can pull them out when i need them but they’re so slippery, those logical words are so slippery, so when i reach my hand in to grab hold of the logic the only words that i can pull out are all those words i wish would disappear, all those words cling to my sweating skin and i can’t shake them off, i try so hard, i violently twist like a dog emerging from a muddy lake but they are so sticky, these words,
i tremble
i cry
i toss
i pace
i write
i seek
…clarity, but all that bubbles up is the muck and mire of yesterday’s troubles,
release me
and let me go, walk away and give me room to grow,
stay
oh god please stay and be my friend, please let me be a second chance, please let it be about me, i am wilting
watch
i am fighting to fill my lungs
i am continuing
i am becoming
I am beautifully fucked up, i am breathing in deep and exhaling slow and steady, i am organizing my mind and calming my soul and i am here, sitting, watching, but not waiting, i am releasing these words on to this page and the battles are fading into the back of my thoughts and i can breathe, in and out, i can breathe and calm my thoughts to get these words on this page and walk away triumphantly leaving these pieces of me behind
i can go
i can go
i can go
see me
see me
see me

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »