Remembering the songs
I hummed as a small child
Remembering the innocence
Of my mind as a small child
Remembering the joy
Imbedded into my heart as a small child
Remembering the love
I believed in as a small child
Remembering the stories
That took me away as a small child
Remembering everything
That I was as a small child
Reminds me of everything
That I'm not as a young woman.

January 31, 2017.
I revised this poem after I got some feedback from a wonderful young lady named Hannah who runs a blog called "2B or Not 2B: Creative Writing Tips and Tricks. Please check it out, it really is a wonderful blog. (P.s. I won this month's poetry contest with this revised version of "Remembering"!)
#love   #broken   #sad   #young   #woman   #family   #songs   #child   #remembering   #revised  

when I think back on
who we were
before the monsters got in

the beauty cuts me to bits

now we are books with missing pages
the first chapters written
in forgotten language

I see you in everything beautiful
it makes me want to change the world
into one that couldn't do this to us

missing you is so painful
so painful...

for the sweetest girl ever to grace this earth

Come, closer
in this gap made for one. I've cleared
myself just for you, bearing
familiarity and pulsing forgiveness.
Place your hand
on my shoulders and leave it that way
until the light drives out the crows outside my bedroom window.
Succumb to my passion
and scorch yourself
on unabridged fever. You'll map
unchartered territory and traverse on nostalgia.
I'll let you scar me
with melancholy, if you take me
up on my offer.

#love   #old   #intimacy   #remembering  

As long as I'm still alive
I am a work in progress,
trying to remember the contract signed before I reincarnated into this flesh.
Who I agreed to meet, the people that would make life a little light, yet still keep enough space in between to be able to hear the spirit speak and guide.
These chapters of my life are written down to show that I am living and have lived them, so I have to write even if eyes never take the time to read, or ears never listen.
Just trying to live and connect the dots with every written line, to remember why it is I agreed to this and signed upon the dotted line.

I feel you in the air,
In the morning when I wake
I can feel your soul touch mine,
And there's nothing to worry about.
I can feel you next to me
When I sit for morning coffee
And feel your breath on mine;
For a moment it's like it used to be.
You're there when I walk down the street,
I almost look over my shoulder-
Half expecting someone to be there.
Instead a gust of wind brushes my bangs aside.
You know I hate that.
My thoughts are of you,
Even when they're not
I still trace a thought to my memories of you
I didn't know I had, and suddenly I'm gone.
You're in the music I hear,
Touching me through melodies
While dissonant sounds tear at my heart.
In open fields I feel you most,
As if you've suddenly become the trees and ground.
You rustle with the wind and speak to me
Things I can't hear, but feel in the bumps on my skin.
I feel you with me,
At the most inconvenient, inopportune times
And I don't know whether to be happy or mad.
Because I am constantly being reminded of you,
And the fact that you're not here.

#sad   #anger   #death   #memories   #nature   #souls   #grief   #missing   #upset   #remembering  
Jan 17

blue eyes, crashing into the seas of my heart.
you created a storm when you came and left.
now you're gone, and the ocean has left little but ripples to remind me of what once was.
     now you're gone, and i miss you.
          but i remember the tidal waves that once were,
               and i am fine with the peace that now is.

so i guess storms like you only come once in a lifetime.
and i guess that passion will never return quite like it did before.
and i guess that's okay.
     because i don't think i ever want to find a storm better than ours.

he was my first love. he was my storm. and that will always be ours.

We are thousands of miles away
But In my heart you will forever stay
Our drifting souls become a cluster
As the bonds we make tighten faster

Our souls may be two separate entities
But they are bound by a single link
Which are our shared qualities
Lettered on the dotted line in ink

- E.A.F

A soul is always wary of the unknown, but once there is a link shared. There is not much that can be done to stop the change soon to come.

I'm waiting for the sun to rise;
going to cut these worldly ties.
Remembering summer reveries,
The autumn chill, the falling leaves.

Look at how we both have grown;
change for all the time we've blown.
Remembering the winters snow,
the stars above, the ground below.

Lets atone for throwing stones;
we can mend the broken bones.
Remembering that spring revives;
brings new light to cloudy skies.

I want to wish all my friends, followers and fellow poets a happy new years. May the light guide you on whatever path you choose this new year. Thank you so much for all the love and support! Be safe, and awake to a beautiful tomorrow. :)

The Mysidian Bard
Liza Ann Marie
Liza Ann Marie
Dec 21, 2016

Remembering the songs
I sang as a small child.
Remembering the innocence
I had as a small child.
Remembering the joy
In my heart as a small child.
Remembering the love
I felt as a small child.
Remembering the stories
That took me away as a small child.
Remembering everything
I was as a small child
Reminds me of everything
That I'm not now as a young woman.

December 21, 2016.
#love   #sad   #depression   #pain   #stories   #joy   #songs   #remembering   #nolonger  

Polly's such a pretty bird, in his cage all day
But one day Polly wasn't there, Polly flew away
Polly left us a few feathers, in the sun they'd shine!
Pretty blue, lovely red, they looked a lot like mine!
The other birds sang songs, but it was Polly that I missed!
"Come home soon, Polly Bird." Oh how I'd wish!
The other birds chirped away, tweet tweet tweeting
About a funny bird with a funny song to sing
But I didn't think Polly's song was funny or strange
If anything I understood his melodramatic rage
One day at last Polly came home! But his wings had been clipped
Poor, flightless birdie, all he could do was hop and skip
Polly's songs changed, they weren't funny anymore
His wings were grey not red and blue like before
I hovered overhead, cautious of what I would say
But now I wondered, did Polly even want me to stay?

Copyright Digital Paper And Pen © 2016

Despite everything, Polly's still my favorite. I don't think that will ever change. Birds of a feather I guess.
#home   #memories   #past   #friend   #change   #nostalgia   #old   #birds   #remembering  
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