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.
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.
rosepoems 