Shanethewriter - Hello Poetry

inhale… deeply... exhale… slowly… inhale love... exhale forever… Into our December... My memories take flight, scattering the light, and the darkness, upon each of our lives and loves. Exposing life’s true colors— Dripping to the ground, An enchanting shade of crimson, and regret. ~*~ Shane Christopher

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Dec 8, 2022

Dec 8, 2022 at 7:45 PM UTC

Shanethewriter

Our December

inhale… deeply... exhale… slowly… inhale love... exhale forever… Into our December... My memories take flight, scattering the light, and the darkness, upon each of our lives and loves. Exposing life’s true colors— Dripping to the ground, An enchanting shade of crimson, and regret. ~*~ Shane Christopher

18

This word called love— let’s dig deep into the soil of it and plant a seed, of trust. If only for a little while, bear witness. Give no fear. Smell the dirt. Feel all of it, the gritty, and the grand. Hear the earth’s confession. Take the pain inside and grab its hand. Gather up every piece— the chaos and the stardust, and smile. The sun rises again.

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Feb 23, 2022

Feb 23, 2022 at 9:49 PM UTC

Shanethewriter

Plant a Seed

This word called love— let’s dig deep into the soil of it and plant a seed, of trust. If only for a little while, bear witness. Give no fear. Smell the dirt. Feel all of it, the gritty, and the grand. Hear the earth’s confession. Take the pain inside and grab its hand. Gather up every piece— the chaos and the stardust, and smile. The sun rises again.

19

~*~ Rising from the earth, like the native Comanche. He’s really quite dandy. Introducing... President Chimpanzee. So fierce and strong, like a banshee— but brave and cute, Like little orphan Annie. No, his name’s not Randy, or Sandy, or Fannie, or Mandy— get it right! The name’s, Chimpanzee. You may find him with Andy, eatin’ nanners in the pantry, but no need to get antsy— He’s not getting handy with granny! I mean, come on— he’s a chimpanzee! Oh, that fuzzy man candy. His ideas—so fancy dancy. Building a democratic jungle of equality. A born leader like King Ramsey! Did you forget him already? You know the dude... Chimpanzee. So, get up, America! Stop playing with your testies. Pull up your pantsies. Go gather all that you can see, and put them in a frenzy— with definite intensity, For the grandly, swanky, vigilante, Yankee, of Miami. Give us liberty. Give us... President Chimpanzee.

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Jan 27, 2021

Jan 27, 2021 at 4:31 PM UTC

Shanethewriter

CHIMPANZEE FOR PRESIDENT

~*~ Rising from the earth, like the native Comanche. He’s really quite dandy. Introducing... President Chimpanzee. So fierce and strong, like a banshee— but brave and cute, Like little orphan Annie. No, his name’s not Randy, or Sandy, or Fannie, or Mandy— get it right! The name’s, Chimpanzee. You may find him with Andy, eatin’ nanners in the pantry, but no need to get antsy— He’s not getting handy with granny! I mean, come on— he’s a chimpanzee! Oh, that fuzzy man candy. His ideas—so fancy dancy. Building a democratic jungle of equality. A born leader like King Ramsey! Did you forget him already? You know the dude... Chimpanzee. So, get up, America! Stop playing with your testies. Pull up your pantsies. Go gather all that you can see, and put them in a frenzy— with definite intensity, For the grandly, swanky, vigilante, Yankee, of Miami. Give us liberty. Give us... President Chimpanzee.

43

In the midst of a tangled present and an unknown future, I close my eyes and dream of you… ……… A distant sunset. Hands interlocked. Walking together, on free ground. Your voice, my music. Your smile, my warmth. You soul, my peace. ……… And then… I wake up — gasping for air. Alone, but I do not feel lonely. . They may reign over your freedom, but they forgot about THE WILD TYPHOON that is my love, for you. . If you feel forsaken, I’m the shadow behind you. If your tears come pouring down, I’m the pillow against your face. If your mind struggles to sleep, I’m the melody inside your head. If you forget how to smile, I am the Sun’s eternal beams, and the twinkle of every radiant star. Look up, my sweet butterfly, and smile. You are never alone. You are the moon, I am the sun. We’ll see each other, at least once a day. The universe guarantees it. . I am always right there with you. My heart is wherever you are. ~*~ ~ Shane Christopher @shanethewriter

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Aug 8, 2020

Aug 8, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC

Shanethewriter

Right There With You

In the midst of a tangled present and an unknown future, I close my eyes and dream of you… ……… A distant sunset. Hands interlocked. Walking together, on free ground. Your voice, my music. Your smile, my warmth. You soul, my peace. ……… And then… I wake up — gasping for air. Alone, but I do not feel lonely. . They may reign over your freedom, but they forgot about THE WILD TYPHOON that is my love, for you. . If you feel forsaken, I’m the shadow behind you. If your tears come pouring down, I’m the pillow against your face. If your mind struggles to sleep, I’m the melody inside your head. If you forget how to smile, I am the Sun’s eternal beams, and the twinkle of every radiant star. Look up, my sweet butterfly, and smile. You are never alone. You are the moon, I am the sun. We’ll see each other, at least once a day. The universe guarantees it. . I am always right there with you. My heart is wherever you are. ~*~ ~ Shane Christopher @shanethewriter

44

we have danced… together through time and space many moons before now i have fallen at your feet and held your heart within mine something ancient stirring within us both as old as the sun and stars one glance was all it took one glance, like a flame re-kindled i burned for you once more two souls lost in a forgetting world that has forgotten to love itself ~*~ Shane Christopher

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Jul 26, 2020

Jul 26, 2020 at 3:51 AM UTC

Shanethewriter

We have danced

we have danced… together through time and space many moons before now i have fallen at your feet and held your heart within mine something ancient stirring within us both as old as the sun and stars one glance was all it took one glance, like a flame re-kindled i burned for you once more two souls lost in a forgetting world that has forgotten to love itself ~*~ Shane Christopher

17

You really did hit the jackpot of love— a poet fell in love with you.

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Jul 14, 2020

Jul 14, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC

Shanethewriter

Jackpot

You really did hit the jackpot of love— a poet fell in love with you.

3

Almost 4 a.m. on a misty Kansas morning. I try to wash away the sleepiness from my insomnia crusted eyes. Flip my racing thoughts resting on a fresh sheet of paper— spread so clean it sheens, like fresh snow on a sunny day. clean pen and magical colors. drop and watch in wonderment, as the colors sink in... waltzing, into the white stillness. words never heard, until this very moment.., dancing in my frenzied brain. the fresh trees reaching out... a drop of sea, a chilly souvenir, the stories of sunsets, peeled back layer after layer... and a moon laid on lake waters. a tender breath of mystery... a river filled with apparitions here now— then gone. wet roads reflecting, winding around echoing hills. the stale winter breeze, now reborn... floating across the valley as a new dawn. steam rising from forgotten coffee. my eyes wary, and then closed. I feel the calm glow of lights, the hum of the city, the silent shadows. the peace of the morning symphony. Pen to paper, again, mind firing untainted tales, as the pigeons rise. followed by the squirrel... and the downstair’s neighbor— a flick and puff of his first vice. a new chapter, a clear desire. the trees rise, the day rises. night slowly walks, forward. onwards, towards the spring morning, reborn.

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Jul 14, 2020

Jul 14, 2020 at 9:12 AM UTC

Shanethewriter

Watchfulness

Almost 4 a.m. on a misty Kansas morning. I try to wash away the sleepiness from my insomnia crusted eyes. Flip my racing thoughts resting on a fresh sheet of paper— spread so clean it sheens, like fresh snow on a sunny day. clean pen and magical colors. drop and watch in wonderment, as the colors sink in... waltzing, into the white stillness. words never heard, until this very moment.., dancing in my frenzied brain. the fresh trees reaching out... a drop of sea, a chilly souvenir, the stories of sunsets, peeled back layer after layer... and a moon laid on lake waters. a tender breath of mystery... a river filled with apparitions here now— then gone. wet roads reflecting, winding around echoing hills. the stale winter breeze, now reborn... floating across the valley as a new dawn. steam rising from forgotten coffee. my eyes wary, and then closed. I feel the calm glow of lights, the hum of the city, the silent shadows. the peace of the morning symphony. Pen to paper, again, mind firing untainted tales, as the pigeons rise. followed by the squirrel... and the downstair’s neighbor— a flick and puff of his first vice. a new chapter, a clear desire. the trees rise, the day rises. night slowly walks, forward. onwards, towards the spring morning, reborn.

49

Author’s note: A few months ago, an email appeared in my inbox. The sender submitted an unexpected, yet important question. He asked, “What is the easiest way to **** myself?” My answer was unorthodox, but it came from my own experience and pain. I have stared Death in the eye before, and I knew exactly how to answer this sensitive question. This poem was my response. Each time that my mind was finally ready to end it all, I stood on the end of a bridge, ready to jump. It always seemed like it would be quick and cheap. The pain would end in seconds. It is bold and dramatic, and makes a statement to the ones that have harmed you. Avoid jumping into oncoming traffic, and no one else’s life is at risk. In truth, there are worse ways to die. I’m not gonna tell you to “better” your life. That’s dumb. You don’t want to hear that s***. People DO NOT understand what it feels like to want to die. They do not understand the pain of despair, in its purest form. They think they do. But no. Craving death, is a dinner for one. You don’t need someone to tell you that you are loved. You don’t need reminded that you have your whole life ahead of you. Sometimes it feels like I’m being smothered by people. Smothered in fake love and care. And I can’t deal with it…I CAN’T BREATHE!!! People only pretend to care now because they know we’re not scared anymore. They know we have stared Death directly in the eye, as he beckoned for us, and we didn’t run. We smiled. We stared back at Death and said, “Ok.” You don’t need to be smothered with love. You don’t need reminded of life. You need space. You need to be left alone, to think. To breathe. Be at one, with your thoughts. That’s where my mind was, when I stood on the edge of that bridge. Breathing. At one, with myself. In that moment of beauty and peace……I jumped. … Time froze. … … At once, I remembered what being alone felt like. Truly alone. It was just me. Floating in air. No one else. But amazingly, that felt ok. I was ok. Even though I was alone, I was not lonely. This crisis my mind was enduring, was only temporary. Fleeting, like life itself. This just one tiny moment, in the grand scheme of things. I was wrong. I was SO wrong. I realized, in that moment, as the water grew closer… That everything in my life that I’d thought was unfixable, was totally fixable — except for having just jumped. Yet, here I am. Alive. A survivor. Some broken bones, and a couple of fishermen serving as my guardian angels— and I was just fine. And I was so happy. It was not my time to go. When I stared at Death and told him, “ok”, Death stared back at me, shook his head, and said: “Not today. You are not finished yet.” If it’s your time to go, then I’m not going to tell you to stay. But while your standing on the edge of the bridge — And you look at your life, and put that moment into perspective. Remind yourself: This is the only moment you won’t be able to take back. Look down, off the edge of that bridge, of your darkness… and turn around. Smile real big, and walk away. “Not today. You are not finished yet.” ~*~ Final note: A week after I responded with this poem, I received a message that simply read: “Not today. I am not finished yet. Thank you.”

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Jul 12, 2020

Jul 12, 2020 at 12:41 PM UTC

Shanethewriter

What’s the easiest way to **** myself?

Author’s note: A few months ago, an email appeared in my inbox. The sender submitted an unexpected, yet important question. He asked, “What is the easiest way to **** myself?” My answer was unorthodox, but it came from my own experience and pain. I have stared Death in the eye before, and I knew exactly how to answer this sensitive question. This poem was my response. Each time that my mind was finally ready to end it all, I stood on the end of a bridge, ready to jump. It always seemed like it would be quick and cheap. The pain would end in seconds. It is bold and dramatic, and makes a statement to the ones that have harmed you. Avoid jumping into oncoming traffic, and no one else’s life is at risk. In truth, there are worse ways to die. I’m not gonna tell you to “better” your life. That’s dumb. You don’t want to hear that s***. People DO NOT understand what it feels like to want to die. They do not understand the pain of despair, in its purest form. They think they do. But no. Craving death, is a dinner for one. You don’t need someone to tell you that you are loved. You don’t need reminded that you have your whole life ahead of you. Sometimes it feels like I’m being smothered by people. Smothered in fake love and care. And I can’t deal with it…I CAN’T BREATHE!!! People only pretend to care now because they know we’re not scared anymore. They know we have stared Death directly in the eye, as he beckoned for us, and we didn’t run. We smiled. We stared back at Death and said, “Ok.” You don’t need to be smothered with love. You don’t need reminded of life. You need space. You need to be left alone, to think. To breathe. Be at one, with your thoughts. That’s where my mind was, when I stood on the edge of that bridge. Breathing. At one, with myself. In that moment of beauty and peace……I jumped. … Time froze. … … At once, I remembered what being alone felt like. Truly alone. It was just me. Floating in air. No one else. But amazingly, that felt ok. I was ok. Even though I was alone, I was not lonely. This crisis my mind was enduring, was only temporary. Fleeting, like life itself. This just one tiny moment, in the grand scheme of things. I was wrong. I was SO wrong. I realized, in that moment, as the water grew closer… That everything in my life that I’d thought was unfixable, was totally fixable — except for having just jumped. Yet, here I am. Alive. A survivor. Some broken bones, and a couple of fishermen serving as my guardian angels— and I was just fine. And I was so happy. It was not my time to go. When I stared at Death and told him, “ok”, Death stared back at me, shook his head, and said: “Not today. You are not finished yet.” If it’s your time to go, then I’m not going to tell you to stay. But while your standing on the edge of the bridge — And you look at your life, and put that moment into perspective. Remind yourself: This is the only moment you won’t be able to take back. Look down, off the edge of that bridge, of your darkness… and turn around. Smile real big, and walk away. “Not today. You are not finished yet.” ~*~ Final note: A week after I responded with this poem, I received a message that simply read: “Not today. I am not finished yet. Thank you.”

69

Heard powerful words move men to action “Hail ****** Millions of innocent souls lost deaths so hideous ironically there are no words to describe “I have a Dream” 50,000 Americans march onto their capital to claim the God given right to be equal. The same words Moving through time staying strong to where 30 years later a small white girl 3rd grade in rural Kansas echos those same words in a report on how the world ought to be I have seen great words lost and alone Concealed beneath pages Stacked on lined walls Masters who have manipulated even the most minute syllable to affect how you feel, learn, believe. Vaporized to the literary abyss of the library Knowledge untapped Mute wisemen. Last words spoken Desperate to sum up a life in one B—R—E—A—T—H what to say......? what to say......? One last, “Tell my, fill in the blank, I love them.” Or cheaters who manufacture manuscripts to be read at their own funerals pre-written, pre-thought-out ovations of pathetic lives in an attempt to give them worth. Sadly, still trying to fool others by sounding spontaneous extemporaneous Even after their heart STOPS

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Jul 12, 2020

Jul 12, 2020 at 12:31 PM UTC

Shanethewriter

Words Are Power

Heard powerful words move men to action “Hail ****** Millions of innocent souls lost deaths so hideous ironically there are no words to describe “I have a Dream” 50,000 Americans march onto their capital to claim the God given right to be equal. The same words Moving through time staying strong to where 30 years later a small white girl 3rd grade in rural Kansas echos those same words in a report on how the world ought to be I have seen great words lost and alone Concealed beneath pages Stacked on lined walls Masters who have manipulated even the most minute syllable to affect how you feel, learn, believe. Vaporized to the literary abyss of the library Knowledge untapped Mute wisemen. Last words spoken Desperate to sum up a life in one B—R—E—A—T—H what to say......? what to say......? One last, “Tell my, fill in the blank, I love them.” Or cheaters who manufacture manuscripts to be read at their own funerals pre-written, pre-thought-out ovations of pathetic lives in an attempt to give them worth. Sadly, still trying to fool others by sounding spontaneous extemporaneous Even after their heart STOPS

48

pure, perfect, love. there was a moment he looked at me like I was all he needed in the world. he looked at me like I was enough. like I forgot what life was, before him. like everything we once were, COLLIDED... and the aftermath was love. pure, perfect love. he was made for me, and I, for him. we will dance in the moonlight, free from the world’s pain. all because of him. all because of love. pure, perfect love.

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Jul 12, 2020

Jul 12, 2020 at 4:50 AM UTC

Shanethewriter

Pure, perfect love

pure, perfect, love. there was a moment he looked at me like I was all he needed in the world. he looked at me like I was enough. like I forgot what life was, before him. like everything we once were, COLLIDED... and the aftermath was love. pure, perfect love. he was made for me, and I, for him. we will dance in the moonlight, free from the world’s pain. all because of him. all because of love. pure, perfect love.

21