Slanted
Ocean eyes, tell me more
please don't dare cloud over,
keep me casted and ignored
hardly ever sober.
medicated mid-day crisis
I'm coming down again,
and my dear the honest truth is
my high has got to end.
Face reality
whatever that may be,
with such informality
regarding all that we see.
Taken for granted
nothing holds meaning,
and now the ground is slanted
and the sun is bright, beaming.
Now tumbling over
and falling down,
in this world of clover
that I've somehow found.
Confusing, constricting,
never level-headed,
this new found reality
is forever being shredded,
changing, evolving,
something stable? No not here,
no problem worth resolving,
strictly out of fear.
My poems/writings reflect my feelings and anything that inspires me to write the piece. Sharing them on a widescale is a dream of mine, so this is the first step. Enjoy!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Not Again, Written, 12/25/2010
Not Again
My response lingers short-lived.
A shell of something
That was once
Thought out so well.
Rehearsed,
Now half of that,
Not even.
Cut off.
In words.
Inside.
A hole that expanding, collapsing
Me in upon myself.
That is the feeling,
The empty,
And undefined,
That feeling.
That goes.
Without.
Words.
My response lingers short-lived.
A shell of something
That was once
Thought out so well.
Rehearsed,
Now half of that,
Not even.
Cut off.
In words.
Inside.
A hole that expanding, collapsing
Me in upon myself.
That is the feeling,
The empty,
And undefined,
That feeling.
That goes.
Without.
Words.
First Sight, Written, 12/25/2010
First Sight
Not sure that I believe
in love at first sight,
but there is something.
More than lust,
less than love,
I'd explain it as a sense.
Knowing something
secure has been bound,
whether recognized right away,
or kept dormant
for a dreary day.
A thread's been spun
between us both,
maybe small, and breakable,
but by none other than ourselves.
What we make of our thread
is up to us.
Spend time, to make a stronger stitch
or let it fray, and eventually
fall away.
Most precious is the presented possibility,
and having found it under circumstances
such as these.
In a world such as today's,
to completely connect with one another
for even a fraction of a moment
means so much more than what we
take from it.
So now,
through some perfect pattern of events,
I have come to find you
now thriving in my life.
Merry Christmas
Not sure that I believe
in love at first sight,
but there is something.
More than lust,
less than love,
I'd explain it as a sense.
Knowing something
secure has been bound,
whether recognized right away,
or kept dormant
for a dreary day.
A thread's been spun
between us both,
maybe small, and breakable,
but by none other than ourselves.
What we make of our thread
is up to us.
Spend time, to make a stronger stitch
or let it fray, and eventually
fall away.
Most precious is the presented possibility,
and having found it under circumstances
such as these.
In a world such as today's,
to completely connect with one another
for even a fraction of a moment
means so much more than what we
take from it.
So now,
through some perfect pattern of events,
I have come to find you
now thriving in my life.
Merry Christmas
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Learned, Written, 12/8/2010
What I fear the most
is forgetting,
losing a single moment,
slipped from my mind and
forever lost.
Something so minuscule
it may be without a trigger,
nothing to take me back
to bask within it.
Maybe forgetting such small simplicities,
no matter how lovely they are
is necessary, to make space,
just in case
something sincerely unforgettable
needs some safe keeping.
We forget what necessarily may
not be needed, despite it's true beauty
that goes unnoticed.
We will lose these small parts of ourselves
the infinite small moments of beauty,
until we truly find them as
something of importance.
is forgetting,
losing a single moment,
slipped from my mind and
forever lost.
Something so minuscule
it may be without a trigger,
nothing to take me back
to bask within it.
Maybe forgetting such small simplicities,
no matter how lovely they are
is necessary, to make space,
just in case
something sincerely unforgettable
needs some safe keeping.
We forget what necessarily may
not be needed, despite it's true beauty
that goes unnoticed.
We will lose these small parts of ourselves
the infinite small moments of beauty,
until we truly find them as
something of importance.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sand Castle, Written, 12/7/2010
I'm throwing out words like life lines,
hoping something sticks,
and that maybe someone might be brave enough
to come and reel me in.
A burden on your back, but I really need you now,
someone to collect my life,
because right now I don't know how.
Hold me tight, and up right, like a castle made of sand,
admire me for what little time there is,
until the next wave does what it can.
hoping something sticks,
and that maybe someone might be brave enough
to come and reel me in.
A burden on your back, but I really need you now,
someone to collect my life,
because right now I don't know how.
Hold me tight, and up right, like a castle made of sand,
admire me for what little time there is,
until the next wave does what it can.
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