Southeastern, GA, USA    1966 -   
"The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that
without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.”
― Pearl S. Buck

© all poems are intellectual property of Neva Flores
"The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that
without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.”
― Pearl S. Buck

© all poems are intellectual property of Neva Flores
Neva Flores Smith
Neva Flores Smith
Nov 23      Nov 23

You in yourself,
treasure your secrets
inside a trance,
as your greatest work of art.
You lay them down  
as your reality
among the colorful leaves
then let them lie….
to your heart.

I simply wait
as your diamond
for you to turn the pages
of my body
while you sing.
I’m left dreaming of your smile
within a roaring tide
believing your time….
is everything.

Copyright @2014 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm
  Reposted by Neva Flores Smith  ·  Oct 25
Kur
Kur
Oct 18

used to think I couldn't go a day
without your smile
without telling you things
and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard
but the next was harder.
I knew with a sinking feeling
it wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.

because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event.
It doesn't just happen once.
It happens over and over again.
I lose you  every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug:
whenever that one song plays on the radio,
or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you,
holding you, or wanting you.
I go to bed at night and lose you,
when I wish I could tell you  about my day.
And in the morning,
when I wake and reach  for the empty space across the sheets,
I begin to lose you all over again.

I would like to share one of my favorite poems. This is written by Lang Leav, part of her newly released book, Lullabies.
Neva Flores Smith
Neva Flores Smith
Oct 25      Oct 25

I heard your fingers point at metaphors
that confused your mind.
I saw your comfort become woven
around the mask you wear,
when like you failed to find.

What if I told you of those hidden scars
those words could simply free?
Would you become a reflection
of the sun, or pretend
you don't hear me?

Copyright @2014 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm
  Reposted by Neva Flores Smith  ·  May 26

I don't want the power in love
I don't aim to be your master
Falling down all around
like so much well meant disaster

Oh, I never wanted a slave
I pursue a life less ruled
But if you walk without your chains
Perhaps we can make each other crazy

I'm just a human in need of suspense
no failures here, no dire need of gold
Just a falling down all around
a need for truth to be told.

Oh I'm no angel
nor aspiring demon
I'm just a human
in need of bein'.

If you walk, walk with me
I do not follow
but I will hold you
and drive you crazy

I pursue a life of me
where I want to go
and I don't want you to be
just someone to follow

I want a partner
friend, confidant...
I need a defender
and someone crazy

Someone crazy like
someone crazy about
someone I can be crazy
for and with and
forever.

  Reposted by Neva Flores Smith  ·  May 25
Tate Morgan

These scars I wear each tell a tale
of moments I'll never forget
When loves spark, had once left it's mark
and the fates had called in their debt

Where I fell upon a bottle
cut my arm and nearly bled out
I hit my head, thought I was dead
learned something of what life's about

My legs torn by years of abuse
racing horses like all my kin
I'd go down hard, leaving them scarred
the limestone would tear off your skin

But these were offerings of note
in a life spent chasing ideals
Testing extremes, of my own dreams
run down more than once by the wheels

Son you can't live your life afraid
of each danger that comes your way
So play the odds, tempt the damn gods
rise up and face each new born day

When you are but old and feeble
with your grandchild upon your knee
Tell your stories, of life's glories
show him the scars so he can see

A life spent cowering from pain
will  leave you so aching inside
The gift you'd miss, from life's sweet kiss
knowing you never even tried


Tate  

© 2012 Tate Morgan
Written
October 25, 2012

Life isn't easy. It isn't meant to be. But sometimes, just sometimes we reach out and touch the soul of humanity making it all worthwhile
#love   #poem   #poetry   #sad   #life   #heart   #pain   #death   #adventure   #mystery   #romance   #story   #fantasy   #fiction  
  Reposted by Neva Flores Smith  ·  Apr 24
Tamera Brown

Sometimes my memories sneak out of my eyes
and roll down my cheeks  
These prisoners always find a way to escape,
When tension reaches its peak
Off into the night
Where everything I invision becomes bleak
Sometimes my mind doesn't follow my footsteps
and leaves my heart hollow
These prisoners derive themselves out of feelings that were ever so potent
But now..
I realize what chances are overlooked when words remain unspoken .


-Tamera Brown

For those who lie restless at night thinking of the missed oppurtunities
#love   #metaphor   #sad   #sadness   #tears   #crying   #please   #thoughts   #late   #new   #deep   #writer   #comparison   #prisoners   #meanings   #readthis  
  Reposted by Neva Flores Smith  ·  Apr 24
r
r
Apr 24

Whispers
     in alabaster ears
words unforgiving, unforgiven
      year after year after year.     
Whispered secret secrets.

      Laurel leaved lies of liars
traitorously spilling wine while
      tear after tear after tear
shed and shredded truth
      cut sharp with guile.

      Cloaked smiles kissing
hands of befriended strangers
      in strange lands lighting fires;
fire after fire after fire
       burning hatred blind to danger.
     
 Sentried angry glowers guarding towers
      o'er ever changing landscapes of desire
 hour after hour after hour.
      Come little child, take to your lips
a bitter taste of this our power.

r ~ 4/24/14

 
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