Archive for the 'Poetry' Category

My Valentine

Feb 11, 2010 in Poetry

Love doesn’t arrive in a heart-shaped box,
with a bouquet of roses,
or a few flattering words.
Love builds with layers,
strength and support.
It shines during the most difficult times,
with one who puts your well-being before their own.
It’s concern for the other’s happiness
even if for awhile yours is put aside.
It gives and takes,
shares and gives,
and makes each within its circle better and stronger
than they would be on their own.
It’s never one-sided,
and never hurtful and thoughtless.
It’s the garden that is tended
and flowers in unexpected ways.
It deepens over time,
is a blessing that should never be taken for granted.
It weathers the storms,
and is not built on outward trappings,
but inner strength that whispers
we are better and stronger together,
than we could ever be apart.

roses2filmgrain.jpg

Teachers

Jan 25, 2010 in Poetry

Just when I think I understand,
have a grasp on the truth,
have traveled a long, rocky road
with shoes falling apart from wear.
Just when I think
my eyes can see clearly,
finally;
and I no longer anticipate
the unexpected,
no longer anticipate
a change of perspective.
Then you turn around,
and teach me something new.

destiny3.jpg

Inevitability

Jan 15, 2010 in Poetry

I’m sure there is a turn I missed
a door I failed to open,
a whisper that never stopped my pace,
to pause and re-evaluate.
I’m sure there was a nuance,
a soft, gentle warning
that I failed to heed
that might have stalled my ascent.
My ascent to this peculiar precipice.
the one I face now,
peering downward
not too delicately
perched at its edge.
Perhaps I should have slowed my pace,
And then,
I should have stopped and listened,
but then again
I am here now,
in this dangerous place,
perhaps only caught by inevitability.
So now this time
I’ll stop,
and make my peace,
and make the very best
of whatever the moment brings.

railing-flowers-small.jpg

Keeping Christmas

Dec 22, 2009 in Poetry

I’ve gotten lost
in the cracks and fissures,
gotten lost in the scrambling about.
I’ve gotten lost
in the madness and the crush
in the whirl of how I thought things should be.
I’ve gotten lost in my long lists
and my efforts to create an image.
An image whose stress is so stripped of truth and peace.
I’ve gotten lost in trying to keep up
with all I have to do.
And I’ve let Christmas pass me by.
I’ve forgotten that’s it’s gentle and loving and about spreading happiness.
I’ve forgotten how to keep Christmas well.
but thankfully
I’ve remembered.

american-christmas-candles-flame2.jpg

Expectations

Dec 15, 2009 in Poetry

They make us delirious,
they make us despondent,
so highly predictable
inflexible, unyielding.
Happy little pictures,
joyful illusions,
that upon first glance seem quite harmless,
until life hits a bump,
takes an unexpected bend,
and we move so far afield from where we thought we’d be.
Happy little promises,
expectations all lined in a row,
joyful, beguiling, merciless in their thorny grip,
suffocating as they bind us,
and so exhilarating when we finally let them go.

huntisabella2.jpg

The Vampire

Nov 27, 2009 in Poetry

Is he so charming?
Is she so engaging?
Are they so comforting, initially, that is
So understanding of all your dreams
Supportive or so it seems?
Are they the close friend,
the confidant,
the one to lean on
or so they say?.
Is he the suave suitor
who on first glance
fulfills all expectations,
so perfect, too good to be true?
And as time goes on,
slowly your own wants slip away,
but it must be your choice
to let go of them
as you find yourself conforming
and bending to their life.
Are they the ones that seem to shine brighter
when you’re around,
yet somehow your brilliance,
your own inner light seems to dull?
Do you become their protector,
filling a role you never intended,
a subtle shift, a gradual slide,
while you were looking elsewhere,
and everything you once were
slips away like sand.
once so strong,
the essence of who you are,
dissipates into nothingness,
as though it never was.

purple-rose.jpg

Who He Is

Nov 18, 2009 in Poetry

The man that I love
is a prince when life is calm,
when times are good.
He is attentive and
all that can be dreamed of.
The man that I love
is a partner when life is stormy.
He tries to bury his own pain
even when it is nearly too much.
He continues to care
even when the stress
seems too great to care.
The man that I love
still cracks a smile
when there is little to smile about.
He rallies my spirits
even when there is little left to rally.
His core remains the
same, strong, steadfast soul
whether we’re riding the waves of success
or struggling through the strife of despair.
I recognize him in all times
constant and loving.
That is who he is.

violets_snow.JPG

Do I Have to Wait?

Sep 24, 2009 in What's New!, Poetry

Do I have to wait
for something to change?
For someone else to decide
that they’ll be different?
Do I have to wait
for life to take a turn,
for chains to melt away,
for something to change?
Do I have to wait?
Or can I simply decide
to stop waiting,
to change,
to be free,
and melt my own chains.

the_necklace.jpg

What’s the Point?

Aug 05, 2009 in Poetry

What’s the point
I ask myself,
of holding onto pain?
“It’s not pain,”
I would argue,
“but my right to anger.”
But why cling to something
that’s clearly so destructive?
“It reminds me
to be careful
and never let my guard down.”
A costly reminder
I should say
as it fills up every space it occupies,
then it bleeds over into places it has no business being.
Until all joy and happiness becomes infected
with this hot poisonous stuff.
Does it really keep you safe
This righteous anger?
Does it lighten your heart
or crowd it so that there’s room for nothing else?
“It’s difficult,” I say,
“an old habit.”
Habits take time to break and work to do so.
“It’s scary,”
Of course,
it walks hand and hand with fear.
“But I’m tired of it.”
Yes, it will exhaust you in the end,
only take and give nothing back.

circe-2.jpg

A Dream

Jul 21, 2009 in What's New!, Poetry

I was walking in a dream,
one cold and bitter night,
but where I traveled was warm,
just filled with  a quiet light.
By the side of a pond, where serenity lie,
I met a young man
that I could not recognize.
But even I had to admit,
with him was an air of familiarity,
a dignity, a grace,
a humor in his smile,
dimples and of course a most handsome face.
We sat down beside the pond,
where the wild flowers grew high,
and spoke about the simple things
as the time slowly passed by.
The more he spoke and laughed,
again I felt keenly that I should know him,
and when finally I asked him if I did,
his eyes widened somewhat in surprise,
blue, just like the clear sky overhead.
His reply was simple and direct,
“No, but one day you will.”
As I pass now through all the days of my life,
I often think of that dream,
of eyes so crystal blue,
and I wonder of that day ahead
when we might meet again.

orpheus.jpg