The Joy of Writing
Free writing is an admirable way to get your mind on paper.
Rough ideas and thoughts
Expanding on pages and pages,
Exploding from your heart in the form of letters.
Why do we not all write? Maybe we
Run slow of words; maybe we draw blanks.
In every person there is a writer,
To every page we tell a story.
Even in the simplest of poems.
The Song Poem
what would you do
If I sang every song to you?
I know that you deserve
all the flowers on this earth
I know it’s not far that you’ll stray
and I’ll never walk away
your like an envelope in my arms
I could never do you any harm.
the sun cascades the moon
the summer buds are all in bloom
and the breeze against your skin
feels as good as a lottery win.
I miss those days
used to go outside and play
all the funny things you said
all the stupid things I’d say
I miss your smile
and I miss your smell
seems like your going somewhere
seems like I’m going to hell
make up for lost time
you could try to rewind
make up for those days
that you’ve spent away
make up for lost time
you could try to put a smile upon her face
and you’ll be in a better place
just make up for lost time.
These Have I Loved
The gleaming particles dance around,
The concentrated sunbeams; focusing
On the history that is my life, as the
Creaking steps, who speak only to me,
Lead me into my past, the dust that
Collects on the tips of my fingers,
As I wipe away the barrier that
Blocks my true sight, as the old
Smell of laughter feeds into my brain,
The sight of insulation as it gathers,
On my unblinking eyelashes,
The city of stacked boxes, give me
Endless enjoyment, allowing me to visit,
A time of my choice, like a time machine,
I can almost feel the summer heat,
That rises from fallen toys around me,
The sharp whistle and surprising draft of the
Wind, through the un-patched ceiling holes,
The wrinkled cardboard sound, as it
Grinds across its opposite side, revealing
The emotion of an un-forgettable past.
His wrinkled face barely smiled,
with the red and white flag behind him,
he feels proud, although he doesn’t show it,
Behind his eyes I knew what he was thinking,
He was glad to be home.
His black and green uniform fit him perfectly,
and his medals shone in the sunlight,
His hair was short and practical non-existent,
under his black beret,
he wore a single black leather shoe,
and thick rimmed glasses,
as he stood beside my beautiful grandmother,
with my father in her hands.
His children stood about him,
smiling gleefully up at the camera,
and I stared at this man,
whom I had never known,
and I was proud to say,
he was my grandfather.
Sestina for Love
Connected together by the sound of love,
all those days connected by happiness.
and the feeling of their warm
hands gently touching you with a hug,
their beautiful warm eyes
bright with kindness.
The lover’s show their kindness
by giving each other all the love
within their hearts and eyes,
the joy that comes out is happiness.
In the winter their warmth
is all the kindness
from them but hugs
only show some of the love
and all the happiness
that shines in their eyes
While you look in their bright vibrant eyes
by the heated warmth
of the fireplace happiness
fills the room of kind
and gentle love
The fireplace hug
is all you see through their eyes
and when you think of the never ending love
they have gien you all the warmth
to your whole body and you show kindess
to make them happy
You show all the happiness
in your hugs
with all the kindness
and by the look in your eye
and the warmth
in your heart you end your forever ending love
And there is no more warmth
in your heart, no love
and no happiness
Her face was yellow, jiggered and torn
Endless flaws and ocean sounds.
Pondering the disasters,
As problems arise.
Breathtaking as a sunrise
Beauty is not what she sees.
Hopes and dreams, never to be seen.
Her memories are more then vague,
Her terrors come in the night,
Searching endless possibilities
Pain in muscles, pain in joints
Pain so bad in trigger points,
Pain you’ll have to go through
Pain you’ll have to see
What it took just to be her,
Pain she has to go through
But people can’t see.
She’s sick of pretending it’s all perfect.
Air filling her pockets everywhere.
Tired of living a lie
Sick of loving you.
Tired of the tears she cries
Tired of returning to hurt.
Sick of being laughed about
Tired of being treated like dirt.
I will break into your thoughts
With what’s written in my heart.
Hear it, I’m screaming it
You’re heading to it now,
Hear it, I’m screaming it
You tremble at this sound.
Watching the sun pass me by
Am I really living how I want?
If only I could fly
Away from my sin,
My soul I would flaunt.
Watching the stars pass me by
Do they really care at all?
If only, if only I could fly
Away from the things that make me fall.
The damned ship lurched and slithers
Quiet and quick,
Trying to avoid all the mishaps,
But crushing into each one.
The long sea rolled…
The visions are never clear
Like a thunder storm I fear
The ringing in my ear,
Will justify the myths
That out there somewhere he’s thinking of me too
Though we know the truth
I’m washed up, worn down