Who
January 11, 2014 § Leave a comment
I never want to be the one with the bitter yawn
who accepts life as it is, simply sits as a pawn
of thought and the like, of the life they are living,
one who doesn’t believe her choices are many.
I never want to accept my state, be too tired to storm
outside of my world, and seek a difference in norms.
I want to be the one not content to just be,
who disrupts and fights to set others free,
the one who can cast bitter tastes aside,
and live to be better, and in this, take pride.
I want to make action and passion and change
I want to live in the moment, but outside of my range.
Joy’s Whisper
January 11, 2014 § Leave a comment
a happy spirit,
who feels the wind,
cold and gentle,
prickly,
who finds peace
in skin that shivers
and hair that dances
in circles and patterns,
who exalts in its trembling
whisper, moving
across the surface
of crowded cement
and lazy pools of water,
rejoices.
For the wind
makes life
change, and change
will not cease,
as long as a spirit lives and breathes
deeply and exhales silent waves
of joyful wind.
Until Then.
January 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
If inspiration fails to emerge
how will I ever write beautiful words?
How will I describe this dainty red rose
without the help of a sonnet or prose?
The act of creating a stanza or verse
is impossible, unless you are fully submersed
in creativity, insights, knowledge, and wit,
all of which seems to be just past my grip.
So I leave with you with this short and simple creation
I hope it suffices until I find more inspiration.
our lonely meadow
January 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
once upon a clouded night,
peace fell from the sky
and your dahlias,
quietly sighing with dew,
were its only witness.
the peace that was
crept away to abandoned corners
and showed its face
to those who listened,
singing to them in quiet tones.
the peace that was, lived calmly
among your slowly blossoming dahlias,
painted red with life
and surrounding us in simplicity,
though we were blind to its call.
the peace died calmly
as your flowers did
upon the birth of autumn
and its glow was not missed,
as though it never lived.
a wind once danced through fallowed fields
and brought us the song
that slowed time and made us shiver
and the quiet resurrection
felt like a shower of hope
that covered our faces
as those raindrops did, gently landing
in our lonely meadow.
Echoless
January 7, 2014 § Leave a comment
The crystalized landscape
softens every echo,
deafens every reverberating crack
of a branch giving up.
Only your footsteps
are there,
making dull crunches
against the earth
that maybe the bears underfoot
would hear in the confusion of their dreams.
Perhaps, also, the distant call of a bird
searching for love in the frozen forest
would break the silence pressing
against your head,
like diving deep underwater,
the pressure pounding gently
against your ear drums.
Only it’s different here.
You can breathe
magnificently.
Better than you ever could
and you’re frightened,
not because you can’t escape,
run as far as you can away
from the deafening sound of
nothing,
but because the silence is so present
that you never want to leave.
what if.
January 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
if i were to sail across the earth
a sunrise and sunset away from you
and we both looked at different sides of the moon
and never felt the same wind
make goosebumps on our skin
what if we couldn’t sigh together
as we stared at beautiful things
in your backyard, and what if
we couldn’t touch fingertips
even for a moment
or taste the salty sweet skin
of the other, would we still remember?
I would still remember.
What they are not
January 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
The eyes of another
on my words,
is paralyzing.
It freezes my hand,
misshapens my words, bends
each letter over the next,
until numbness is scrawled.
Eyes and heads and noses,
they squint and wink and shake and snub,
and hands
grab
controlling my pen,
even
straining, to see if ink spills
in beautiful puddles.
Are my words
enough.
They are
to me
but what if not
to you.
Such a silly thing, the fear of words,
not being
enough
or being
too much
being taken
not for what they are
but for what they are
not.
moon
January 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
the ethereal shine
does not reflect
but speaks to the ink
surrounding its edge
such a beam of bright
in a sea
of space.
a moment of gazing
at the globe
resting above
seems to take away breaths
of doubt
from those below
even after it rises or sets or rises
its magic
its glow
remains
a beacon
of belief
Often
January 3, 2014 § Leave a comment
i often recite made-up poems in my head
right before i go to bed
without a pen to write them down
they often go forgot or unfound
i try to remember them the following day
and write down the words that i meant to say
but i find they often never sound as well
as they sounded last night in my head to myself
new year enigma
January 2, 2014 § Leave a comment
an endless list of how to be
better
than before
it’s not enough
to try
we must make verdicts.
resolve
to be better
a new year
a new you
but isn’t time
a construct?
without meaning assigned.
why be better now?
why not be better now?
why be better always?
why not be better always
rosepoems 