I have so much to do
But I am a statue.
I'm frozen.
Words are held just on my lips.
Power peppered on my finger tips.
When much is given much is expected.
Prose. Prose Prose Prose.
No one knows.
What do I know.
Am I a God.
I am a God.
Gods lead, Gods create.
I create.
I create at will what I will
I will what I create.
Not good enough. Too late.
I have so much to do...
When you're a God
Who do you pray to?
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Start.
Go.
I am one way, but now, also another.
Two separate identities
both compelling and seductive.
Slide.
Run.
How can both so equally demand the most honest part of me?
Is my inconstancy something tangible,
or the result of a post taught structure
telling me right from wrong?
Twirl.
Lunge.
I see them both
One luring with a smile, a toss of hair.
The other charming with eyes so heavy, but bright.
Each pulling my focus and stealing my breath.
Without a sound or whisper of words.
Bend.
Twist.
Delicate and quirky, yet confident,
she understands and listens to the hum inside me;
holding my heart while still falling into my arms.
Whimsical and strong, he picks me up in a rush
like a wild wind and frees my mind.
Then with a full, gentle touch calms me. Stills me.
Blink.
Fall.
What can I do?
Question everything I feel or have ever felt?
Ever known?
They shake my every nerve,
Sending tremors to my spine.
Then suddenly I know.
Fantasy.
Reality.
It's him.
And that's ok.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
There are many different kinds of it.
Mine is odd.
It's verbal
...but not.
Emotional
...but not.
Odd
because I've been on that literary cusp,
That moment of stillness right before a phrase
feathers down from my mouth with gentle harmony.
But this time something stops me.
Fear?
Anxiety?
Apprehension.
I have everything I want to say.
It's there waiting for me to father it,
but all I can utter are shallow breaths.
It's right... there.
But i'm caught in a stalemate with myself
Odd
that my heart knows how and when to react.
Like a beacon, the other calls to mine.
Like a compas, points a direct line
commanding that I follow it.
it guides me... there.
I rest immobile, unsure of how I feel.
Unable to act one way or the other.
My head, my heart.
Two loyal parts of a whole.
They speak tirelessly in each ear,
hoping to overcome the other
instead of reaching compromise.
This is limbo.
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
These feelings are new
One moment here then not
Hello my new friend
Your kindness surrounds
Busy, happy and present
Hello my good friend
Lips purse on my cheeck
Suddenly my world is changed
Hello my sweet friend
My eyes flutter wild
You race when our hands touch slow
Now I know you live
It's been awhile
Once numbed now brimming with hope
Hello my old friend
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC