Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘poems’

must have inhaled a thousand times,
trying to escape my mind,
just pretending to be blind,
hoping you can see inside,
all these breaths,
a thousand times.

must have tried on a thousand skins,
hiding behind the walls within,
waiting for the touch of a friend,
someone who knew it was all pretend,
all these masks,
a thousand skins.

must have hoped on a thousand stars,
saw them clearly from so far,
their light crept through the cracks in my heart,
their shine would cover up these scars,
all these wishes,
a thousand stars.

must have cried a thousand tears,
like anyone who’s lived these years,
seen my share of conquered fears,
grabbed my courage and drew it near,
all these heart-breaks,
a thousand tears.

must have given up a thousand ways,
saw the smile across your face,
a reflection of a courage filled place,
knew this was my sacred space,
all these chances,
a thousand ways.

must have exhaled a thousand times,
trying not to criticize,
all us learning we can fly,
spread our wings and take flight,
all these breaths,
a thousand times.

20120713-212218.jpg
(this picture is of a secluded lake I found when I needed to take a thousand breaths)

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

the alarm sounds,
the day begins.
the sun appears through the curtain,
pink and purple and orange,
the sky blazing with the colors of the day.
so much promise ahead,
possibilities are endless,
no one yet set in their concrete ways.
the light glistens of hope,
it glances at these scars that won’t fade.
turn the page,
find the words.

the dreams are quieted,
hushed by my thoughts.
the list is filled,
everything carefully planned,
all the steps of life right there,
everything in order except my mind.
covered by a questioning stare,
tell me what I’m thinking,
reveal my thoughts,
I’ll try not to disappoint.
turn the page,
say it a million ways.

take a ride with me,
these journeys are never completed alone.
bypassing every memory,
here and now is where we’re headed.
it’s an unmarked path,
bring your courage,
pack your bravery,
shake the dust off your back,
be kind to that pile of regrets,
we’re not coming back.
turn the page,
another chapter is waiting.

don’t avoid the pain,
turn it to a poem,
invite everyone to read,
don’t worry that it doesn’t rhyme.
I know the things you’re learning,
I figured them out when I let the past go.
do-overs are real,
they occur every day,
tethered by a million strands of love,
the light has always been there.
turn the page,
the plot is building.

the moon is taking its place,
smile for the stillness,
listen and breathe the empty voids.
the darkness presses against the window,
I can see its breath,
I can hear its beating heart,
timed perfectly with the bravery of letting go,
the courage of taking a step.
the night cushions you like sand on your toes,
dance naked on the shifting beach.
turn the page,
this is our story.

Read Full Post »

I want to believe.
I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I’m scared of the words I put on this page,
fearful of the direction my thoughts will go,
unsure of the meaning,
avoiding the necessary pattern,
constantly questioning my motivation,
my sanity,
my ability to get you to hear.
… am I speaking too softly?
… have you tired of my attempts at clarity?
… could you see when I was weak?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I can’t find the brevity needed,
stringing words together so fast even I lose track,
my mind wanders from present to future to past,
randomly thrown together in a delicate mix,
waiting for a sign that you heard,
hoping my courage is safe,
hidden in an ornate metaphorical phrase.
… which words did you hear?
… am I still brave?
… are you leading the naysayers?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
these words are neither black or white,
the picture they paint is in clear gray,
the mind they reveal is focused,
the beautiful disillusion of purpose,
pull it all together,
sit up straight,
breathe — become.
… are we safe in each others hands?
… does the sparkle still show?
… is a smile hidden inside?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
moving away from concrete ways,
a chattering mouse quieting herself,
a novel destined for publication,
always becoming better,
welcoming revisions from a soul-filled author,
a story that needs to be told,
a song you will always remember.
… did I make you stumble?
… will you hear my melody again?
… am I learning who I am?

I think I belong,
I want to believe.

Read Full Post »

Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free. ~~ Rumi

I break open and scatter on the floor
the spatterings of a dismantled heart
jettisoning the refuse to make more room
more room
move over so the thoughts can travel out and grab you
these ramblings
rays of hope and possibility and love
bleeding from a barrel forgotten in the rain
and I am left dancing in the middle
unaware of the spinning all around
the final splitting of the frayed rope is easy to spot
the million tears that got it there are invisible
there is fighting
fighting for control of the words
the words that spew from a beautiful mind
each word trickling out from the vein of my thoughts
forming a puddle at my feet
and I dance in my blood
the beautiful sheen of those blood splattered words
never again afraid to tell a story
the strength we have is always in us
never broken or lost or hopeless
the shit-spilling stories become our therapy and turn to art
displayed with such a lack of caution you forget to be scared
a deserted path waiting just for you
calling for you like a wolf hypnotized by the moon
it’s song is powerful
a single note can not sing the melody
these words do not tell the story
I tell the story
I control the words
I choose when to arrange them in a cry for acceptance
I choose when to arrange them in a scream to be heard
I choose when to arrange them in a whisper of possibilities
I choose to arrange them in a courage filled bomb that explodes all around
I am filled with more chapters than you can imagine
I want you to imagine
I dance around
smiling
laughing
loving
I break myself open again and scatter myself on the floor
and I dance in my blood

Read Full Post »

I watch you,
staring so intently at the collection of toys you sculpted out of clay.
each one had your full attention,
each one felt the love of all your heart,
each one created by the bliss that lies in your mind.
I hope you have that forever.
I hope you never lose passion for things that matter.
I hope you always lose yourself in those creations.

I watch you,
your eyes sing a song the whole world can hear.
each glance takes a brick from the wall around my heart,
each glimmer reveals my lovely world,
each look brings me closer to understanding love.
I hope you see the world through those eyes.
I hope you never lose sight of your own perspective.
I hope you look in the mirror and smile at the reflection.

when the mountains in the distance scare you
… just climb them.
when the song seems to have no rhythm
… just sing it.
when the ocean looks too deep
… just swim it.
when life overwhelms you
… just live it.

I watch you,
your voice rolls sweetly across my ears.
each call of my name hangs in the air,
each laugh shakes the world free from doubt,
each question you ask has a million perfect answers.
I hope you hear your thoughts in a crowded conversation.
I hope you never listen to that voice that tries to quiet you.
I hope the story you tell will find the perfect audience.

I watch you,
my arms stretch out but know to grasp you loosely,
each breath I take leaves me hoping for another,
each thought I have is peaceful in its chaos.
each tick of the clock comes faster than I want.
I hope you take the path that calls for all your courage.
I hope you never stand still when the dance floor needs you.
I hope you leap and know your wings have always been there.

20120610-214109.jpg

Read Full Post »

So this is what it’s like.
The dark so thick no glimmer of light can get in.
The air so stale my lungs lurch to escape the fumes.
The sign reads, “no train horn”.
My head hurts.
My eyes are blurry.
My heart sings with the questions that only clarity can answer.
So… Many… Questions.
A million ways I’ve asked.
A million ways I’ve tried to be heard.
A million ways I’ve tried to explain a piece of the my soul to you as if there could ever be an explanation that would shed light on the darkened path that we can sometimes travel if we allow ourselves to float freely down the rabbit hole.

So this is what it’s like.
Figuring out who you are through someone else’s eyes.
Their vision is so cloudy they stumble and fall on my mistakes.
The sign reads, “you are here”.
Looking for myself.
My finger scanning the map.
My mind wanders from place to beautiful place.
So… Many… Places.
Not pulling you back to the abyss we’ve already visited.
Never wanting to pull you back.
Pulling you back would mean I’m still there too looking for some dysfunctional company because that’s the only kind of friend who would crawl into the rabbit hole with you, a beautifully fucked up friend.

So this is what it’s like.
The tunnel you’ve been crawling through suddenly opens to a rocky shore.
The rocks are so jagged but on the other side is the sweet ebb and flow of breath.
The sign reads, “always becoming”.
A calm exhale.
Toxic thoughts pushed out by the salty ocean air.
So… Many… Thoughts.
Letting go of all the small things.
Blocking them from ever returning.
The small things grow into big things and those big things can pull you under, so far under that your lungs scream at you because you’re breathing through a straw so you turn away from the rabbit hole and you grasp the hand of that friend and you walk away and dip your toes in the cool ocean not afraid to look back.

20120608-124644.jpg

Photo From Kind Over Matter

Read Full Post »

I don’t want to write any words
…when I’m on the downward side of this spiral, when I’m looking through a window that’s fogged over as if a cloud dropped and settled right there, right in my line of vision. I squint and I screw my face and I narrow my eyes and I try to wipe away the fog but it goes no where. It stays… blocking my view, obscuring my words. Coiling around the flow of courage, so tight. So tight it coils, trying to scare it off. So, I don’t want to write any words when this spiral is going down.

I don’t want to write any words
…that you’ll see and read and shake your head because you knew all along. You knew nothing good would ever come of that shitty first draft so you threw it away, there was nothing more to say.
But I crept in when you weren’t looking and I rummaged through your discarded waste and I pulled the words from the bottom of that barrel and I walked away. I walked away knowing I could revise this whole story, knowing I had far more control and far more ability to tell this story than any other person, even you. So, I don’t want to write any words that you’ll see.

I don’t want to write any words
… you’ll just read them and then you’ll talk about them and then a joke will be made and a smirk will be seen and an eyebrow will raise and high fives will be collected and I’ll find myself on the outside of the circle looking through you. But behind the look will be the thought. You’ll think about all the things that could be done from now on because we know we can’t ever go back and undo that tangled feeling that lodged itself in your gut every time I tried and — how — I — tried. No matter how many times I tell you about the better days all you’ll see is how clearly I look when I’m weak. So, I don’t want to write any words that you might read.

I don’t want to write any words
… but waiting is pointless. This feeling is hit and miss, maybe now maybe later. I’ll sit down and I’ll type the words and I’ll not want to but I will because in spite of all the shouldn’ts I’ve racked up, in spite of all the stupid button pressing, in spite of all the reasons I have to hide my face and tuck my tail and bury my body in the deepest cave… I’ll write these words because I can. I can. I can make you think and make you see and make you question every decision you made. I can. So, I don’t want to write any words when I should wait.

I don’t want to write any words
… but if I don’t they’ll just explode in the space of grayness that surrounds and knock me off my wobbly perch. Those words will keep pouring out of me in a steady flow of memories, moving so fast I can’t slow them down… no control. The mystery I keep trying to solve is me and these words are the only clues I have and each time I try to peek inside your world to see if any parts of me are there, you slap the curiosity so hard… so hard. So hard you slap but the curiosity just grows, it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t slow down. So, I don’t want to write any words that might explode in my face

— but they need me to…

So, I will.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »