In the depths of the heart, where emotions reside,
Lies the ink of the soul, a river that can't hide.
A potent elixir, flowing through our veins,
It paints our experiences, our joys, and our pains.
With every beat, it pulses, a rhythm unique,
Writing stories untold, in a language so mystique.
Words woven together, forming intricate threads,
Expressing the thoughts, that dance in our heads.
The ink of the soul, it knows no bounds,
It captures the essence, of life's profound sounds.
It weaves tales of love, of longing, and desire,
Igniting the sparks, that set our souls on fire.
In every stroke, it reveals a hidden part,
A glimpse into the depths, of a vulnerable heart.
It bleeds onto pages, or whispers in the wind,
A reflection of the soul, where true selves rescind.
Sometimes it's vibrant, like colors of the dawn,
Painting dreams and hopes, as a brand-new morn.
Other times it's somber, like shadows in the night,
Expressing the darkness, that seeks to take flight.
But through it all, the ink of the soul remains,
A testament to the human spirit's resilient strains.
It speaks of resilience, of courage, and of grace,
Echoing the stories, that time cannot erase.
So let us embrace, this ink from within,
And let it guide us, as we begin again.
For it is through its flow, that we find our truth,
A testament to the beauty, of the human soul's sleuth.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 9:23 PM UTC
Oh, blue sky by the sea, so vast and wide,
With hues of azure, where dreams reside.
A canvas of tranquility, stretching afar,
Where the waves dance, like a shining star.
The sun's golden rays, gently caress,
As the sky and sea merge, in a tender embrace.
Whispers of the wind, a gentle breeze,
Carrying the scent of salt and peace.
Seagulls soar high, their wings unfurled,
As if they're painting strokes, in this watery world.
The rhythm of the waves, a lullaby,
Serenading the shore, as time goes by.
The sand beneath my feet, so soft and warm,
As I walk along, in this tranquil form.
Footprints left behind, a fleeting trace,
In this timeless moment, a sacred space.
The symphony of nature, in perfect harmony,
As the waves crash, with wild and mighty glee.
A symphony of colors, a masterpiece divine,
Where the sky and sea merge, in a cosmic design.
Oh, blue sky by the sea, a sanctuary of peace,
Where worries are silenced, and troubles cease.
In your embrace, I find solace and grace,
A sanctuary of serenity, in this sacred place.
So, let me wander, by the shore and sky,
With awe and wonder, in my heart and eye.
For in this moment, I am truly free,
In the presence of the blue sky by the sea.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 9:22 PM UTC
The secret of a happy life
Is knowing how to live,
And recognize the time and place
To take away or give.
To gather joys we must be fair
In all we say and do;
The happiness is free to take,
The rest is up to you
Most people walk a rightness path,
And do their very best,
To foster peace and brotherhood,
While feathering their nest.
Still there are those, who lie and cheat,
With underhanded ways,
Believing they can forge ahead
And gain some unjust praise.
And actually they may just feel
Their neighbors thru the years
wear a mask of make believe
To hide their self made fears.
But happiness does not exist
Upon their shakey shelves,
As skies are always gray for those
Who cannot face themselves.
Leo M. Janowick
January 16, 1976
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 7:27 PM UTC
It's not that I just think of you, every now and then,
Or that I sometimes hope that I, will see you once again.
It's not that you're the late night thought, I try to keep at bay,
Or that I wonder how you are, when I start my day.
It's not that I wish you were here, when I feel alone,
It is that I look for you, in an empty room,
And that since you walked away, all I see is gloom.
It is that I overthink, everything you said,
And that no matter what I try, you're always in my head.
It is that everything I think, and all the things I do,
are drained and soaked and coloured black, by the loss of you.
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 2:25 AM UTC
I don't know what the deafening scream of your silence tastes like...
How does your smile echo taste? The footprint left by your steps I don't even know what your sad eyes taste like... I don't know what your hugs taste like... I don't know what you taste like... But I want to know.
Jul 2, 2021
Jul 2, 2021 at 4:03 PM UTC
.
When tomorrow starts without me,
And I am not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me;
I wish so much you wouldn't cry
The way you did today,
While thinking of the many things,
We didn't get to say.
I know how much you love me,
As much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you will miss me too;
But when tomorrow starts without me,
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name,
And took me by the hand,
And said my place was ready,
In heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind
All those I dearly love.
But as I turned to walk away,
A tear fell from my eye
For all my life, I'd always thought,
I didn't want to die.
I had so much to live for,
So much left yet to do,
It almost seemed impossible
That I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays,
The good ones and the bad,
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday,
Just even for a while,
I'd say good-bye and kiss you
And maybe see you smile.
But then I fully realized,
That this could never be,
For emptiness and memories,
Would take the place of me.
And when I thought of worldly things,
I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did,
My heart was filled with sorrow.
But when I walked through heaven's gates,
I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me,
From His great golden throne,
He said, "This is eternity,
And all I have promised you.
Today your life on earth is past,
But here life starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow,
But today will always last,
And since each day's the same way
There's no longing for the past.
You have been so faithful,
So trusting and so true.
Though there were times you did some things.
You knew you shouldn't do.
But you have been forgiven
And now at last you're free.
So won't you come and take my hand
And share my life with me?"
So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don't think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me,
I'm right here, in your heart.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 12:48 AM UTC
As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.
From a Friend to you
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play, on the computer, until 4 AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will.
I will walk the beach, in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.
They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And, I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebodys beloved pet gets hit by a car? But, broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I dont question myself anymore. Ive even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 3:07 AM UTC
My mind feeds the Pen words
as quickly as the paper can swallow;
Feasting on emotions and notions
hand-fed from my heart
Now and again my mind overindulges
on expressions and craves a pause;
Knowing any respite is short-lived,
the pen stays ever on the ready.
Fully aware that the writing never ends.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
Lay your pens down
Push your papesr aside
Rest your cell's charge
And cease your finger pride
Now ease your thoughts
Relaxing your mind's courts
As I ask you in verse
To kneel
Your third eye
Your soul
And seer in your reveal
In comprehension to prayer
Of poetical readers
Who see us dear
May we ink in truth
To verse in veracity of ideals
Penning influence's tooth
To readers of our halls
Who peruse here to escape
With harboured thoughts in their falls
Find release
Inking in colours we collaborate
As we divine the mysteries of life
In the glory of observance of strife
May our devotion through human restraint
Be the blessings we can learn to paint
For our selection being here
Is reasons to connection
We chosen few
Are morning words to our reading crew
The daily sentences to their life's choices
And nightly thoughts through spoken voices
As long as we breath at the end of our word
We give thanks by expressing our heard
So let us go forth
To spread lines true in our pens
And let the ink in our veins be our clense
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 1:41 AM UTC
"She writes because she doesn't really know how to explain what she's feeling and what she's going through. Maybe writing will help her and others like her going through this. Sometimes she reads quotes and poems, and totally connects with the words... and feels what she just read told how she felt perfectly more than she can ever explain to you. Someone gets it. Someone understands, and it's comforting to know she's not alone in her feelings. To feel such sadness and be withdrawn is to feel like a shell of a person of who she once was. She's existing, but not really living. She's surviving to make it through another day, knowing she has to wake up and do it all over again. She wants to be her happy soulful person full of laughter. She wants to truly enjoy the little things through the day and special moments without this dark sadness inside her. She misses that part of herself and wants it back. So she writes. She writes to help herself whenever she needs to calm her thoughts and tears coming down her face for no reason. Be patient with her. She's a work in progress, but she'll get there."--
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC