morgan-emily-dinkel - Hello Poetry

If I could write you a poem, Every hour, every minute, To transcribe how I feel, I would. I ‘d let your hands touch my cheeks, See right into my brain, Read my thoughts, read my heart, If I could. I can’t always explain them, The things that I do, I go crazy, and selfish, And blind. But insane as I am, I never forget You’re my only, And you’re one of a kind. My hands, As they stumble Through keystrokes Can never do justice to the warmth in your soul. Or the way you are more Than lips I can kiss, Or a smile, Or some hand I can hold. Like a gentle roughness, An echoing whisper, Or an imperfection that makes something Absolutely flawless, You are something So few souls can understand or fathom That the thought of you Makes them incredulous. And being the uncharitable girl That I am, You’re a treasure I won’t willingly share. To risk something So rare, And of such high value, Would be like walking into a snare. For you, my dearest love, Are not my just moon, Or my stars, But my radiant sunset. Daily transforming beauty That’s taken for granted Into something I’ll never forget. Our every encounter Is a rose among daisies— Making memories And never squandering time. Though of it, We lose track As the clock fades into the background Disappearing along with its chime. But as goodbyes rush on us, All too quickly, And we kiss, So reluctant to part, I hope you always will know, No matter how far you go, My train of thought will always lead back To your heart.

0

Aug 16, 2014

Aug 16, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC

How I Feel

If I could write you a poem, Every hour, every minute, To transcribe how I feel, I would. I ‘d let your hands touch my cheeks, See right into my brain, Read my thoughts, read my heart, If I could. I can’t always explain them, The things that I do, I go crazy, and selfish, And blind. But insane as I am, I never forget You’re my only, And you’re one of a kind. My hands, As they stumble Through keystrokes Can never do justice to the warmth in your soul. Or the way you are more Than lips I can kiss, Or a smile, Or some hand I can hold. Like a gentle roughness, An echoing whisper, Or an imperfection that makes something Absolutely flawless, You are something So few souls can understand or fathom That the thought of you Makes them incredulous. And being the uncharitable girl That I am, You’re a treasure I won’t willingly share. To risk something So rare, And of such high value, Would be like walking into a snare. For you, my dearest love, Are not my just moon, Or my stars, But my radiant sunset. Daily transforming beauty That’s taken for granted Into something I’ll never forget. Our every encounter Is a rose among daisies— Making memories And never squandering time. Though of it, We lose track As the clock fades into the background Disappearing along with its chime. But as goodbyes rush on us, All too quickly, And we kiss, So reluctant to part, I hope you always will know, No matter how far you go, My train of thought will always lead back To your heart.

64

If I could write you a poem, Every hour, every minute, To transcribe how I feel, I would. I ‘d let your hands touch my cheeks, See right into my brain, Read my thoughts, read my heart, If I could. I can’t always explain them, The things that I do, I go crazy, and selfish, And blind. But insane as I am, I never forget You’re my man, And you’re one of a kind. My hands, As they stumble Through keystrokes Can never do justice to the warmth in your soul. Or the way you are more Than lips I can kiss, Or a smile, Or some hand I can hold. Like a gentle roughness, An echoing whisper, Or an imperfection that makes something Absolutely flawless, You are something So few souls can understand or fathom That the thought of you Makes them incredulous. And being the uncharitable girl that I am, You’re a treasure I won’t willingly share— To risk something so rare, and of such high value, Would be like walking into a snare. For you, my dearest love, Are not my just moon, Or my stars, But my radiant sunset. Daily transforming beauty That’s taken for granted Into something I’ll never forget. Our every encounter Is a rose among daisies— Making memories And never squandering time. Though of it, We lose track As the clock fades into the background Disappearing along with its chime. But as goodbyes rush on us, All too quickly, And we kiss, So reluctant to part, I hope you always will know, No matter how far you go, My train of thought will always lead back To your heart.

0

Jul 16, 2014

Jul 16, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC

J

If I could write you a poem, Every hour, every minute, To transcribe how I feel, I would. I ‘d let your hands touch my cheeks, See right into my brain, Read my thoughts, read my heart, If I could. I can’t always explain them, The things that I do, I go crazy, and selfish, And blind. But insane as I am, I never forget You’re my man, And you’re one of a kind. My hands, As they stumble Through keystrokes Can never do justice to the warmth in your soul. Or the way you are more Than lips I can kiss, Or a smile, Or some hand I can hold. Like a gentle roughness, An echoing whisper, Or an imperfection that makes something Absolutely flawless, You are something So few souls can understand or fathom That the thought of you Makes them incredulous. And being the uncharitable girl that I am, You’re a treasure I won’t willingly share— To risk something so rare, and of such high value, Would be like walking into a snare. For you, my dearest love, Are not my just moon, Or my stars, But my radiant sunset. Daily transforming beauty That’s taken for granted Into something I’ll never forget. Our every encounter Is a rose among daisies— Making memories And never squandering time. Though of it, We lose track As the clock fades into the background Disappearing along with its chime. But as goodbyes rush on us, All too quickly, And we kiss, So reluctant to part, I hope you always will know, No matter how far you go, My train of thought will always lead back To your heart.

60

He listens-- Like a priest to confession, Like a perfectionist to praise, Like a child to the jingle of an ice cream truck. And as waves of nearly psychotic personal reflection come spilling out of my mouth in the form of an attempted conversation, I find that I am searching in his eyes, Pleading for his rescue from my own awkwardness and stupidity, And the self-loathing that accompanies identifying such qualities within yourself. And I know, By the look he returns, That one of two things must be true; Either he has no idea how just how deep my stream of random and obtrusively odd curiosities and ponderings really is... Or he does know, And he just loves me. And then, I wonder what kind of idiot he must be to fall for someone so grossly imperfect, So terribly undeserving of adoration and devotion. And I supposed, he must be my kind of idiot. Because in a mind filled with ambitions and information and drive and intrigue, He always makes room for me. And as it turns out, I like myself more for him loving me. Because memories of him increase my value infinitely. I cannot buy them or remake them. If I let them go, they are gone forever. Unforgettable memories are the currency of love.

0

Jul 8, 2014

Jul 8, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC

He Listens

He listens-- Like a priest to confession, Like a perfectionist to praise, Like a child to the jingle of an ice cream truck. And as waves of nearly psychotic personal reflection come spilling out of my mouth in the form of an attempted conversation, I find that I am searching in his eyes, Pleading for his rescue from my own awkwardness and stupidity, And the self-loathing that accompanies identifying such qualities within yourself. And I know, By the look he returns, That one of two things must be true; Either he has no idea how just how deep my stream of random and obtrusively odd curiosities and ponderings really is... Or he does know, And he just loves me. And then, I wonder what kind of idiot he must be to fall for someone so grossly imperfect, So terribly undeserving of adoration and devotion. And I supposed, he must be my kind of idiot. Because in a mind filled with ambitions and information and drive and intrigue, He always makes room for me. And as it turns out, I like myself more for him loving me. Because memories of him increase my value infinitely. I cannot buy them or remake them. If I let them go, they are gone forever. Unforgettable memories are the currency of love.

24

Just like a child coloring a picture, writing really isn’t about what’s in the lines. It’s about having the courage to suggest something beyond the lines, beyond what everyone expects to create a beautifully messy new truth that might one day move someone else the way it moved you, when it flowed from your brain to the page.

0

Jul 8, 2014

Jul 8, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC

Untitled 2

Just like a child coloring a picture, writing really isn’t about what’s in the lines. It’s about having the courage to suggest something beyond the lines, beyond what everyone expects to create a beautifully messy new truth that might one day move someone else the way it moved you, when it flowed from your brain to the page.

1

Real happiness. It’s the difference between hiding under the umbrella To avoid wet socks, And letting your hair down To dance in the rain. Because really, life is unpredictable. And if you spend too much time looking down to avoid puddles, You’ll forget to look up at the rainbow. Sometimes things are messy. Embrace it. Don’t be afraid to make a splash.

0

Jul 8, 2014

Jul 8, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC

Happiness

Real happiness. It’s the difference between hiding under the umbrella To avoid wet socks, And letting your hair down To dance in the rain. Because really, life is unpredictable. And if you spend too much time looking down to avoid puddles, You’ll forget to look up at the rainbow. Sometimes things are messy. Embrace it. Don’t be afraid to make a splash.

11

Your words and ideas and your flesh and your bone are what make you a human, and you're not alone if your heart pumps your blood and keeps right on beating and your mind is awake, if you keep on repeating your purpose and goals and give effort and care you can find your own someone who cares if you're there. You don't have to be perfect, you are good enough, and experiences that formed you, be they smooth or rough aren't something you can change, so there's no use repeating the hurt, and though pain isn't fleeting, nor is love or commitment or memories of good times, so express them, in stories, in words that make rhymes, and however it is that you explain who you are just remember you choose to let down your guard to make your life meaningful and purposeful and true, these can be your new memories, but it's all up to you.

0

Jul 8, 2014

Jul 8, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC

What Makes You Human

Your words and ideas and your flesh and your bone are what make you a human, and you're not alone if your heart pumps your blood and keeps right on beating and your mind is awake, if you keep on repeating your purpose and goals and give effort and care you can find your own someone who cares if you're there. You don't have to be perfect, you are good enough, and experiences that formed you, be they smooth or rough aren't something you can change, so there's no use repeating the hurt, and though pain isn't fleeting, nor is love or commitment or memories of good times, so express them, in stories, in words that make rhymes, and however it is that you explain who you are just remember you choose to let down your guard to make your life meaningful and purposeful and true, these can be your new memories, but it's all up to you.

32

There's nothing that’s worse than the lies in the laughter.  The falsity, And wondering what they're really after.  With each passing person,  In each passing face, I look for the passion-- The joy,  But just…space.   It's a place of decisions and choices of life,  But no one will notice the hurt or the strife When you're dying inside,  Writhing and churning. Nobody's perfect is a hard lesson, learning Patience And sorting the real from the fake,  What questions pass through your mind when you take every breath And each moment,  Is it true all along,  The people that tell you what's right and what’s wrong,  Might just be acting like they have your back,  When behind it they talk about things that you lack?   It's a place we call high school,  But the things that we learn  Aren't just science or math,  And we each take our turn  Discovering what happens  When you cross that line,  Acting like you're okay,  And maybe you're fine.  But if you put up that front  And let nobody in,  You'll have only your thoughts  And you know you'll give in  When your mind and your eyes say  You're not good enough  And your heart has to deal,  Well believe me, it's rough.  Feeling people assess you,  Deciding your worth  When you've only wanted to impress them since birth   Don't try to tell me who I am,  You don't know me.  And don't just say that you'll be there,  Show me.  Don't be upset that I don't just take your word,  You have no idea the lies that I've heard.   Life is messy, and ******  And always a test  To see who's really there,  And the feeling’s the best  Finding someone that knows you,  Can read you so well--  An island of sanity  In an ocean of hell.   We all need a relief  From the weight that we carry  On our backs, In our minds,  As we learn how to bury  Emotions and tension and failures and worry,  As we go through the motions,  Wrapped up in our hurry  To decide and succeed,  To get out and move on,  But regrets won't just leave us  Like time does when it's gone.   And it's funny how we contemplate  When we can't sleep at night,  So at war with ourselves,  Are we doing it right?  But the fight's not one sided,  At times it all seems to be us,  Against each other,  Against our future and dreams.   With the world as our oyster,  And so many fish in the sea,  We learn heartache and jealousy  and greed all come free.  Fairness is ********  But to live with yourself  You must make the decisions  That provide you with wealth--  Not in money or things,  But in love and compassion.  Because we all live to find fulfillment,  Through success and through passion.  And at the end of the day,  You won't be able to take it  If your wallet is full,  But your soul is just vacant.   We must think for ourselves,  Not just do what we're told.  Take a chance, Cross our fingers,  And dare to be bold.  We will get through these years  Of struggle and strife,  Using lessons as lifeboats  In our voyage through life.

0

Jul 7, 2014

Jul 7, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC

Untitled

There's nothing that’s worse than the lies in the laughter.  The falsity, And wondering what they're really after.  With each passing person,  In each passing face, I look for the passion-- The joy,  But just…space.   It's a place of decisions and choices of life,  But no one will notice the hurt or the strife When you're dying inside,  Writhing and churning. Nobody's perfect is a hard lesson, learning Patience And sorting the real from the fake,  What questions pass through your mind when you take every breath And each moment,  Is it true all along,  The people that tell you what's right and what’s wrong,  Might just be acting like they have your back,  When behind it they talk about things that you lack?   It's a place we call high school,  But the things that we learn  Aren't just science or math,  And we each take our turn  Discovering what happens  When you cross that line,  Acting like you're okay,  And maybe you're fine.  But if you put up that front  And let nobody in,  You'll have only your thoughts  And you know you'll give in  When your mind and your eyes say  You're not good enough  And your heart has to deal,  Well believe me, it's rough.  Feeling people assess you,  Deciding your worth  When you've only wanted to impress them since birth   Don't try to tell me who I am,  You don't know me.  And don't just say that you'll be there,  Show me.  Don't be upset that I don't just take your word,  You have no idea the lies that I've heard.   Life is messy, and ******  And always a test  To see who's really there,  And the feeling’s the best  Finding someone that knows you,  Can read you so well--  An island of sanity  In an ocean of hell.   We all need a relief  From the weight that we carry  On our backs, In our minds,  As we learn how to bury  Emotions and tension and failures and worry,  As we go through the motions,  Wrapped up in our hurry  To decide and succeed,  To get out and move on,  But regrets won't just leave us  Like time does when it's gone.   And it's funny how we contemplate  When we can't sleep at night,  So at war with ourselves,  Are we doing it right?  But the fight's not one sided,  At times it all seems to be us,  Against each other,  Against our future and dreams.   With the world as our oyster,  And so many fish in the sea,  We learn heartache and jealousy  and greed all come free.  Fairness is ********  But to live with yourself  You must make the decisions  That provide you with wealth--  Not in money or things,  But in love and compassion.  Because we all live to find fulfillment,  Through success and through passion.  And at the end of the day,  You won't be able to take it  If your wallet is full,  But your soul is just vacant.   We must think for ourselves,  Not just do what we're told.  Take a chance, Cross our fingers,  And dare to be bold.  We will get through these years  Of struggle and strife,  Using lessons as lifeboats  In our voyage through life.

98

Change is the monster that’s under your bed. Or in the closet, or maybe, it’s all in your head. Life’s what you make it, You’re stuck being you, For better or worse, There’s not much you can do so just smile. Every day. It can change who you are. To laugh, To spread warmth, Can take you so far that by the time you realize how much you can grow, It’s too late to worry, And you’ve already let go. Felt your feet skim the sand, Released your grip on the rope, And plunged deep into the waters Of all the unknown. It could be a disaster, It could be a gift, To put yourself up for judgment, And feel the world shift. Hold out your hand, Accepting life as it comes. If it’s fast, If it’s new, If it makes your heart thump. It’s okay to be scared It’s desired, in fact, Because it means you’re not bored And your life isn’t lacking. Live with courage. With gumption. Tell the truth, Write a song, Make a mess, Laugh at nothing, Even dare to be wrong. Be sure you aren’t taking more than you’re giving, Remember being alive doesn’t mean that you’re living. Love like no one’s judging, and who cares if they do? It won’t change a thing, So remember, Stay you.

0

Jul 4, 2014

Jul 4, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC

Stay You

Change is the monster that’s under your bed. Or in the closet, or maybe, it’s all in your head. Life’s what you make it, You’re stuck being you, For better or worse, There’s not much you can do so just smile. Every day. It can change who you are. To laugh, To spread warmth, Can take you so far that by the time you realize how much you can grow, It’s too late to worry, And you’ve already let go. Felt your feet skim the sand, Released your grip on the rope, And plunged deep into the waters Of all the unknown. It could be a disaster, It could be a gift, To put yourself up for judgment, And feel the world shift. Hold out your hand, Accepting life as it comes. If it’s fast, If it’s new, If it makes your heart thump. It’s okay to be scared It’s desired, in fact, Because it means you’re not bored And your life isn’t lacking. Live with courage. With gumption. Tell the truth, Write a song, Make a mess, Laugh at nothing, Even dare to be wrong. Be sure you aren’t taking more than you’re giving, Remember being alive doesn’t mean that you’re living. Love like no one’s judging, and who cares if they do? It won’t change a thing, So remember, Stay you.

43