Poetry Has Always Been My Outlet & Solace
I take comfort in the written word as it spills onto the pages or is fed to the pixels on my monitor. I am able to take pieces of me and put them on paper so that they are expelled from my brain, my soul, my heart.
I will be sharing with you my original works in this lens for you to enjoy and interpret in a way you can identify with them!
Enjoy!!! And please, feel free to share my poetry on Facebook & Twitter!
Nobody's Home
the way you touched my face
with piano fingers
painted in black
letters struck over your
bare knuckles
your softness always
comforted me
you waited for death
soft and swift to
come and spare you,
drifted off until
the sandman floated
you down the river,
kindness in your eyes
being spared from
the fate you could
never endure
picked up the phone
the other day
but i couldn't
reach you
Over
Scattered pictures brush my heels on the floor.
I don't love you anymore, but when I gaze upon
them I step back in time, into the vortex that
has long since passed.
I tear up, I feel your breath slowly absorbing
into my wet cheek, waves flow down onto the floor
my heart a wet mop, fluttering with August's passions
of a time far gone, ruined, scarred, cut, bled,
cauterized, I close the cover on the box and now
I can sleep!
Already Home
Never thought you'd be swept away
under the carpet
the sweetness of death
taken
like a thief in the night
came for you in sleep
dreaming
of life
not the death
you were living in
whisked away to be alive
to find light in the eternal darkness
i made a river for you
i love you much more
wrapped in the star's embrace
holding the moon in your pocket
the twinkle sparkling in your
warm, hazel eyes, behind them
the sorrow past, basking in the
rays of the sun, not alone
not sick, not in pain, not broken
you are fixed the way i never
could repair you, not lost
wallowing in despair
i'll always keep a candle lit
and never hope for your safe
return. you are already home.
Wake Up
wake up, precious love,
shake the dreams from your hair
drain the ocean in your eyes
I'm twinkling bright
glimmering in your arms
waiting for it to cease
waiting, i know cloud 9
doesn't last for eternity
Angel Dust
dust off the angel,
reckless
cruel, cold,
eyes are like
pools of amber
embers have
stopped burning
the wheel keeps on turning
the stars cease to shine
it was all an optical illusion
.jpg)
That's good stuff you have going on there. You write well. I feel you about pouring your words out onto paper, it can be liberating. Keep at it...
ReplyDeleteIt really is liberating and lets you spill out what you don't want anymore. Its also a good way to express what regular words can't say. Using a poetic device lets you delve into things that are deep, way below the surface :)
Delete"Already Home" was the most striking one for me. I had one of those strange synchronicity moments you get with poems you relate to. However, I spotted the Jim Morrison line in your "Wake Up" poem. I like it. (and if you don't know Jim Morrison, I suggest listening to the whole American Prayer album. It's a great one.)
ReplyDeleteI love Jim Morrison. I honestly think he is one of the leading figures that encouraged me to write when I was in high school. I had sort of an obsession with Jim.
Delete