How Are You
January 15, 2014 § Leave a comment
the script is enduring
pleasantries echoed
by almost all
they recite the words
but no meaning lives
behind them
and they float in the air
between two beings
and search for a listening ear
but freeze instead
their vibrations slowing
not able to fully travel
through all the meaning
the clutter
the chaos
and the simple words
that could create something wonderful
are lost, or just forgotten
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Moment
January 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
the memory of
humid night air
seeping through the vents
of my car, and us, still
holding air in our lungs
should our breath
stir the other
causing a butterfly
effect, of sorts
a punctured moment
to remain imagined
so we are still
and hesitance becomes
our greatest friend and foe
but the air surrounding us
is waiting too
absorbing into our skin
and remaining there
should we ever forget
Anomaly
January 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
Even though it is winter
I must be very clear,
I do not want to talk
about the weather, my dear.
Your complaints, they are often,
my patience is not,
so I implore you to please
not involve me in your thoughts.
Not that I don’t value
your researched opinions
of how the wind chafes your skin
of how you couldn’t find your mittens.
It’s just that I want to hear
something that’s more of a thrill
a topic that doesn’t involve
the weekend’s incoming chill.
Am I being too direct?
I’ve been so lately when I speak,
but it’s really not my fault,
you see it’s been raining all week.
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.
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 