This is a quadruple Haiku,(probably has a different name)lol I have been losing time, and sometimes I can't complete a full sentence, and on other days, simple words elude me! This is kind of what I feel as my family looks at me, like I could disappear at any second! Some days I don't remember that their looks scare me!
I have been dancing the same steps, all my life Two steps forward, three steps back Eating my feelings at a young age, became the norm Not being able to process situations, no life tools No matter the tune, it was the same dance I want to learn new dance steps, (coping mechanism's) Change that Texas two step to a tango, or spicy samba I want to dance my way into a happier, healthier, me It's time to evaluate and discard the old dance steps, & Venture into new genre's and enjoy the dance of life, while creating new steps that build my confidence, and Shaping a new me from inside out! I am worthy of love And forgiveness. I'm going to put the new dances into Effect and steadily increase the speed and exuberance, To match my inner survivor. Armed with new thoughts, self confidence , and awesome Dance moves, to shake things up, and waltz me into the New Year!
There is a chill in the air......only I can feel I know you think I'm crazy.......but This Is Real I've felt the bony fingers with claw like nails Trace a familiar pattern on my neck, my color pales I feel my heart beat faster, my breathing is sporadic As I make my way quietly, I reach the ladder for the attic I should turn and run, never to look back But I need to face this demon, my souls under attack I will fight with all that is in me, I'll stand up, and curse your name You'll no longer have my power, I Am Done!......you're to blame!
[this is a poem I wrote for a friend that sells jewelry, silly but fun!]
See me sparkle, see me shine So many choices, each divine Choose one of my treasures, or purchase them all Five dollars a pop, the cost is so small Whether flashy or bold, hues of silver and gold, Their is something for everyone, Five dollars, $OLD!
Rain pattered against her windows that Sunday evening. She was sitting on her bed, writing her column, pencil in her mouth, hair tied in a bun, glasses perched on her nose. But as those drops hit the glass of the windows, she couldn't help herself. She had to go...
There were few things in life that brought her joy now, ever since she was locked in the cage. Pushing her things away haphazardly, focusing just on the sound, she ran to open the gates leading to the balcony. Barefoot, her skirt swishing as she ran, as though she was breathing air after a long time. She ran to open the doors, freedom from the monotony. Her feet splashing the rainwater, feeling the touch as if for the first time.
She stood there for a while, drenching herself, inhaling the scent - petrichor, feeling the drops fall on her face. Arms wide open, she hugged the clouds and their tears, as much as she could gather. And then she smiled the most beautiful smile in a long time.
There it was, the freedom, the happiness. Like the rainfall had unmoored her and she had just begun wandering and exploring, setting a sailor's sail. There was a lot left to be understood before the boat was anchored again.
And so I danced...
I went inside and poured a cup of hot tea and got my book - there was no better time to read than when the skies rained - escaping the reality and getting lost, unmoored, unanchored, unhinged.
Darkness is a poet's best friend as it helps him write what lies beyond the worlds in the voids where forlorn minds wander, some looking for their way back home and others settling into the emptiness.
Darkness is a poet's best friend as that is where he can sing and dance and laugh and cry and no one questions him with five w's and one h. He lives in words but breaths in the spaces in between where chaos takes birth and dies.
Darkness is a poet's best friend as there are no lies or fantasies, just emptiness and nothingness. He can write endlessly and never run out of words and pain. He can heal and hurt and love and break along with the infinite little worlds darkness contains.
Even ghosts cannot walk Along bridges broken by time. They cannot float across Our chasms chiseled with pain; They sink slowly into its depths And whisper every word-- That which was thought but never spake.
I've counted suns, stars, and moons: The full, the crescent, the new and blue. I've seen leaves of green turn red; I've seen them fall and become brown. Beheld new buds sprouting in spring, Blossoming then into magnificent life: Alas, earth rotates while clocks remain still.