There are a few types of music
Music when you're happy
Music when you're sad
Music that makes you think of someone
And music that doesn't mean anything to you
Until certain things happen In your life
And it just moves you, speaks to you.
Pushes you through the rough
Glides you through the smooth
Music that I listen to when I'm only thinking of you.
But I never tried poetry
And now I realize
Poetry can be used
To explain love in great detail
An image in a readers mind
But love can mean many things
To the writer.
So the reader has to relate to it in someway
Dig deep within the lines
It's like finding a diamond in the rubble
But when they do their eyes come alive.
See a poem has to flow
Tell a story in someway
Poems that only make sense to me
My mind is thinking of new
Lines every, single, day
See I never wrote poetry before I came here.
I see it as a land of peoples
Story's and Dreams
A land of people who
Get heat-broken and Shattered
And write about the things they've seen
People that write about the dark valleys in their mind
People who write poems about their lovers,
as you read their words come alive.
People who write about their struggles and addiction
A place where everything in their mind is in one place
and most of it is non-fiction.
But poetry for me
Are my Demons scrawled
Across these pages
And my story's to tell
This place is where I drown them
They lay there in that thing
The thing I used to call the Wishing Well.
If they're here, they're not in my mind
Emotion in my lines
But the reader has to Look, Imagine and Relate
But when they do, their minds come alive.
Now I know this
Poem may not be the best
And It's not meant to be
Because this poem might only make sense to me
Just another Demon
I have thousands and this is just one less.
But now I come here everyday
In the hope I can feel something and relate to somebody else in some sort of way
People who I don't know but I can read and read
Pages upon pages and for a moment my mind becomes less tense and I start to believe.
I didn't mention the Angels
Because they're quiet
They only come when I rest
I think a lot
But I know they're always silent
During the Test.
They brought me into a dark room with but only one window and layed me against the cold, concrete wall. The room had nothing but solitary confinement for me and it poured rain for days, the pattering of the droplets hitting the window was the only thing that kept me sane. I would look up at the window as it sat there on the ceiling and gaze into the night sky for hours at a time, trying to convince myself that God could see me and hear my suffering and that all this was happening as a test of my faith for the greater good. I did not pray for my hands were bound and my soul was weighted by my captor.
After some odd days, 3 men came into my confinement and breached my reflection. They released me from the cold concrete wall and brought me over a bucket of ice water. Without warning, one violently grasped my hair and flung my head into the water for many minutes it seemed, only pulling me out when I released my breath and then immediately putting me under once again. This would continue for hours over a period of several days.
For those of you with faint hearts and an optimistic conscience, this is not a story with a glorious ending in which justice is served and the faith prevails. This is the story of how I became a martyr. After a multitude of days of this torture proceeding, one of the men had asked me, "Why do you still have faith in this God of yours if he does not save you? He has either shown himself to be false or does not care for your life."
Solemnly, I responded as simply as it came to me. "Because God has power, God is the essence of all of our beings and what we are bound to. I do not love God because he is kind, because he is forgiving, because he is gentle and there for me always. I love God because he is something I do not know, and I can not change. God is omniscient because humans can not overpower God, whatever we learn, God knows, and that is the way it has always been. God is not a being at all, God is an idea, God is a motion, God is a thought with the power to conquer everything, God is a feeling that creates all emotion, God is the blueprint for everything that exists, God is everywhere. How do you not acknowledge what is so present and alive within you? God gives me determination which fuels willpower, and where there is a will there is a cause to which I am guaranteed to succeed. All so through the power of the universal spirit present within me and all of us."
The man was absolutely bewildered and obviously confused, and continued to comply in my test of faith. "But if he has the power to set you free, as you are somewhat saying, why has he not?" And without letting me respond he once again interrupted. "Is it because your God is not present? He can not be with you in your confinement. Where is your God?"
This was a question I was on the verge of discovering the answer to myself. If God could set me free, why had he not? But the answer was simple as it swept through me. With the grace of an angel, a raindrop fell from between the seams of the window and landed on my cheek. I looked up into the night sky once again and understood. God is in the rain.
How fitting it was that in the rain, I would be made into
That you will write to me again
Because I know I am not strong enough
To tell you to stay away
One more time
But I also fear
Never hearing from you again
And the thought
That you have given up on me
Because I could never give up on you
And this constant state
Of being torn
Between one thought and another
And between anger and love
Makes me lose my mind
You should flip a coin
When you don’t know what you want
But I don’t need to wait
For the sight of a shiny coin
In mid air
Because I know that the answer
I once knew a man
who married his highschool sweetheart.
He would meet me on the weekends
in a dirty hotel room.
When I'd arrive he'd be laying on the bed,
a cigarette in his mouth
and a bottle of whiskey in hand.
"She used to love me," he'd say. "Then she left."
Then he'd cough up a tired laugh.
Once he told me that I looked like her when she was young.
Tears littered his cheeks
as he recalled the love they shared.
"Now look where I am. I'm stuck here with a prostitute."
That whole year I didn't know his name until last month
when he said, "John Adair."
I scribbled it down on my palm and never saw him again.
The next day I went looking for her.
I finally found her this day.
So here I sit on this cold New Years day
silence thick in the air as I stare at the grave of
Who is he or she in our lives.
It could be your mother or father
who we know they are
sometimes right or.
It could be the people we talk to
everyday. You may think he is
hansom or she is beautiful as a
rose and she could be
your one true love.
So many men, women,
boys, and girls.
We want to hug them, kiss them,
say, I love you, try to
make them feel better, and say,
I really care about you. But,
when it comes to loving men,
women, boys, and girls.
Theirs always that
space to love in each other.
-Sign LINK THE HERO OF TIME-
More white than the most beautiful
wedding dress. More delicate than the fairest
rose. More valuable than its weight in
gold. More necessary than
milk and bread. More precious than a brilliant
diamond. More useful than the
strongest man. More versatile than the
Toilet paper: I love thee.
I need you
i'm a sad little girl with a crack in my wall
but i'm no Amy
I haven't got the guts
or the fire
i'm just scared
and I need you
i've a dull life
missing something fantastic
but i'm no Rose
I could never make you
but I need you,
to come and make me feel grand
to stop me hurting and hating myself
make me your Donna but
never let me forget
how beautiful you are
and I need you,
to come save the day
but i'm no Martha
i'm not brave enough to walk away
my name is Devon
I need my Doctor
to come whisk me away
from this place that hurts
I need you to hold me
and save the day
Sometimes I'll be laughing and smiling and listening to music. And dubstep will come on.
Or I'll be relaxed and peaceful walking through the forest. And I'll see a fallen tree.
Or I'll see a plate a brownies, simple, present, there.
And suddenly everything will leave my mind.
I'll become overwhelmed with sadness
And memories of you.
I'll close my eyes and feel your lips on mine,
Tears will fill my eyes and I'll feel your arms around me.
You are stitched into everything,
These little things have your scent woven into them.
They remind me of how well I knew you,
And how much you made me love you.
They remind me of the mornings we spent in each others warmth,
And of the gentle kisses exchanged.
They remind me of hellos and goodbyes and more than anything they remind me of the day you said
"I love you."
They remind me that you were never mine to love,
That your heart was always with her.
They remind me of the day you told me kissing me was a mistake.
They remind me that you never loved me, that I was nothing more than
His arm is around my waist.
My head is on his chest.
My heart beats softly.
I have never been more at home.
His head drops to my shoulder,
And I turn my head and softly plant a kiss on his cheek.
"Are you sure we can't?"
He wants a kiss.
I pick up my head
And we lock eyes.
I smile and say "maybe."
I grab his hand and he rests his head on mine.
My heart jumps,
I want to kiss him.
I want to kiss him a million times.
I peak out from under my hair and look at him.
I kiss him.
I kiss him I kiss him I kiss him.
A million butterflies dance across my lips.
Everything stops and I kiss him.
I do not want to stop kissing him.
My hands go to his hair,
And I kiss him softly still.
I drop my head and he whispers
"I adore you, I absolutely adore you"
And again my lips are on his.
I rest my head on his shoulder
And we sit holding hands,
Talking and smiling and understanding.
I have never been more comfortable.
He looks over at me,
Smiles a little,
And leans in to kiss me.
I am glowing and I swear I am a star.
The bell rings.
I don't want to leave him.
It seemed like only a few minutes.
Our empty hall fills with people
And my hands fill with his.
We walk up stairs and through crowds
And not care about any of them.
It is just us.
We walk and walk and walk.
Someone grabs our hands.
It's his friend.
Joking, of course.
But there is a strange hand on mine.
I do not like it.
I begin to shake.
What is happening?
Why do I find myself pulling away?
I don't know why I'm saying "no"
I begin to run.
Liam grabs my arm,
Pulls me in to a hug.
I'm still shaking.
"Hey, I'm here."
I drown in his warmth,
And find comfort I've never felt before.
I love him.
And I kiss him one last time.
Then we part.
If you love someone
Enough to spend
The rest of your life
You shouldn't need
A government document to