Beginnings
April 17, 2014 § 2 Comments
I opened up the spiral book,
pages filled with words,
etched carefully on paper, purple pen
a fervent scrawl, filled with meaning
from nine years past.
I wrote with conviction
as strong as the coffee that still stains
the pages and spreads ink
and distorts the words penned
from a familiar place that rushed
to fill the pages of a nearby notebook
with notes of beginnings and of ends.
It’s a story I once knew
so well, that now sounds like a fiction
from a distant place,
from another’s hand.
silence
April 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
Silence is a friend
to the harsh and biting,
words that bounce wildly
across wooden rooms
without borders, but an enemy
to the timid, the thoughts,
hidden words trying
to see the light of an open eye
finally taking them in.
life
April 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
if
life goes on
and on, and on
then why is it that
life is short
you would think that if
life is like a box of chocolates
then it would be easy to
choose a path since
every life choice
could end up good
like
life is good
and
life’s a beach
and sometimes also
life’s a bitch
and
life is hard
and if
life gives you lemons
then you must realize that
you only live once
and why don’t we all just
live laugh love
and
live for today
instead of making lemonade
if we could only just
live in the moment
and maybe
live like we’re dying
but not
live like there’s no tomorrow
because in life
tomorrow always comes
and that’s the thing about life
it’s yours
and it’s been proven
that no one gets out of it
alive
Dear Time
March 23, 2014 § Leave a comment
Do you ever tire of moving?
While you speed past our eyes
in colorful streaks
like the blur of a train
across a country side
do you ever wish you could pause,
just for a second?
Where
March 22, 2014 § Leave a comment
Perhaps they ran from the home they knew
to a world outside beneath a sky big and blue
Perhaps they grew tired of such a predictable plot
a more passionate life, they urgently sought
Or maybe they felt abandoned, or perhaps even lost
so they fled the scene entirely, not considering cost
For adventure or relief, perhaps they truely searched
trying to find utopia, or a brand new place to perch
Maybe news of opportunity came by word-of-mouth
so they all caught a train and headed down south
Or they could have simply spilled out onto the floor
and scampered quickly toward the nearest open door
But I guess I’ll never find out the true cause of this event
It will forever be a mystery where all my bobby-pins went
My View
March 20, 2014 § Leave a comment
I can’t see very far,
in fact,
I’m almost blind.
But I try to see,
that is, the good.
Am I blind to the reality
of day-by-day-by-day….
Or blind to the bitter
taste of shallow phrase.
I think it’s for the best,
a certain lack of sight,
for the best and most
sparkling views
I see
when I take a sudden breath
awoken from sleep
to eyelids blocking light,
the brightest darkness in the world,
a view that signals life.
Pegasus Ring
March 20, 2014 § 3 Comments
silver and small,
the flying horse lived
as a token of seven years
upon the earth
upon my hand
it remained, a loyal friend
staying small as I grew
a shiny horse, still and frozen
always there until
it slipped away
perhaps tossing and turning
at night, or twirling at daybreak
or running at sunrise
it flew off of my pinky finger
the only one it fit, it must have
finally decided
to fly away
pause
March 19, 2014 § Leave a comment
simplicity in air
a stroke of sound
a patient beat
of silence
a grateful breath
never searching
for more
than what
it receives
Timing
March 18, 2014 § Leave a comment
Perhaps if our clocks were in sync
at a quarter past eight
and you gazed up at a cloud floating west
to find it reminded you
of a day with shallow fountains
and blindingly bright skies
old yearbooks and made-up songs
and looking past the cloud and past
the sky, would you perhaps see
centrifugal force spinning,
a constant dance holding two
together, and perhaps if I checked the time
on my wrist at a quarter past eight
but saw turned tables and opened doors
years passing, but seconds remaining still
perhaps the earth would gently tilt
and perhaps, for once, gravity
would be on our side and
in that moment of you being there
and I, being here,
perhaps we would somehow
find a way back
to each other
rosepoems 