rachel-sullivan - Hello Poetry

I remember the day, you gave me a bracelet. Leather, and brown. Beautifully woven and thick, Writing on the front that read “Lokana”, your name in Hawaiian. But the clasp was broken, Completely unwearable. I would have to tie it with string. Most would have thrown it away. Yet, You gave it to me as a gift. And you looked at me With such extreme importance in your eyes, Your voice stern as you said “Don't lose this.” It was then that I realized What it must have meant to you. A sharp twinge of fear caught me As I promised I wouldn’t, Knowing how much you were asking of me. I have such a forgetful mind, you see. I drop brand new phones on concrete, Leave 10 page essays at home, Forget the way to my best friend's house After hundreds of times being there. I forget chunks of my life. Years of my childhood, Gone. Precious items, Missing. Yet you wished me, of all people, To keep track of something so small And easy to lose. And I, of all people, agreed to do so Because I knew what it must have meant to you, And now it means that to me too.

0

Sep 10, 2014

Sep 10, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC

Bracelet

I remember the day, you gave me a bracelet. Leather, and brown. Beautifully woven and thick, Writing on the front that read “Lokana”, your name in Hawaiian. But the clasp was broken, Completely unwearable. I would have to tie it with string. Most would have thrown it away. Yet, You gave it to me as a gift. And you looked at me With such extreme importance in your eyes, Your voice stern as you said “Don't lose this.” It was then that I realized What it must have meant to you. A sharp twinge of fear caught me As I promised I wouldn’t, Knowing how much you were asking of me. I have such a forgetful mind, you see. I drop brand new phones on concrete, Leave 10 page essays at home, Forget the way to my best friend's house After hundreds of times being there. I forget chunks of my life. Years of my childhood, Gone. Precious items, Missing. Yet you wished me, of all people, To keep track of something so small And easy to lose. And I, of all people, agreed to do so Because I knew what it must have meant to you, And now it means that to me too.

37

If I could transform my very core into pages If I could translate all my feelings to words Then I you can bet I would But I would only write it to read myself Like a diary to gaze upon With cold and bloodshot eyes When I stay up all night, Torn by my existence I want to know why I wish I could understand my feelings And put myself into words Maybe then I would know what to do with me If I could translate this hidden message I am sure lies deep within Maybe I wouldn't be beside myself In trying to learn the meaning. Maybe if I could write my wants My needs My thoughts In a poem, or a simple lyric I would know just what they were But I can never find the words Instead my insides speak in a foreign tongue No dubbings, no subtitles, no dictionary Just me listening to clogging whispers Of which I can never decipher My life would be so much simpler If my heart knew English.

0

Aug 11, 2013

Aug 11, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC

Wordless

If I could transform my very core into pages If I could translate all my feelings to words Then I you can bet I would But I would only write it to read myself Like a diary to gaze upon With cold and bloodshot eyes When I stay up all night, Torn by my existence I want to know why I wish I could understand my feelings And put myself into words Maybe then I would know what to do with me If I could translate this hidden message I am sure lies deep within Maybe I wouldn't be beside myself In trying to learn the meaning. Maybe if I could write my wants My needs My thoughts In a poem, or a simple lyric I would know just what they were But I can never find the words Instead my insides speak in a foreign tongue No dubbings, no subtitles, no dictionary Just me listening to clogging whispers Of which I can never decipher My life would be so much simpler If my heart knew English.

29

They are strange things; strangers..... There are so many of them Yet, although these strangers are strange to me To you they may be a friend They are a strange species; these strangers They overpopulate almost every place Yet, they go about living similar lives of their own Each one with a different story or face Strangely, we are taught not to talk to strangers And trained to avoid them Yet, each one, whether strange or not, Is, strangely enough, a person. Strange is the way we feel about strangers We fear them because we do not know them Yet, these strangers are unknown to us Because we choose not to know them What strange mystery these strangers possess Each one of them has a life, A secret, A past, And a name Just like us.... Yet, we label them as strange. Yes, strange thing; these strangers Yet, The strangest strange Is that, strangely enough, We are all strangers.

0

Jul 4, 2013

Jul 4, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC

Stangers

They are strange things; strangers..... There are so many of them Yet, although these strangers are strange to me To you they may be a friend They are a strange species; these strangers They overpopulate almost every place Yet, they go about living similar lives of their own Each one with a different story or face Strangely, we are taught not to talk to strangers And trained to avoid them Yet, each one, whether strange or not, Is, strangely enough, a person. Strange is the way we feel about strangers We fear them because we do not know them Yet, these strangers are unknown to us Because we choose not to know them What strange mystery these strangers possess Each one of them has a life, A secret, A past, And a name Just like us.... Yet, we label them as strange. Yes, strange thing; these strangers Yet, The strangest strange Is that, strangely enough, We are all strangers.

28

I am afraid of stepping in the sand. For I am afraid of the mark I will leave. I am uncertain of the imprint I will make. And I am afraid of what it would mean. Perhaps, It will be small and insignificant. Just a pathetic footprint, That the wind will blow away with time. Forgotten. Erased. Never to have been. I am afraid of disturbing the sand. Thousands of tiny rocks, moved By me. What if move them the wrong way? Is there even room for me, Amongst the sea of small stones? Or, What if I take my first step and fall? Thats not the mark I want to leave. Thats not how I want to be remembered. Someday, I will have to take that step. Afterall, we all must move forward. But I dread the day I must go, And venture out into the desert, For I am afraid. What if the sand is too hot? Perhaps, it will burn my toes. What if I’m too weak? What if I go the wrong way? And my footprint points, in the wrong direction? What if others will follow my steps? If I was lost, I wouldn’t want them to be lost too. It takes thought, How will I step on this sand of time? Will I tiptoe on, Cautiously, Just enjoying the walk, And be at peace Knowing my steps won’t last? Or, Should I jump, at the risk of falling? And engrave a mark that the world will feel And keep for years to come, Like the fossils in a museum? Either way, I will still be afraid.

0

Jul 3, 2013

Jul 3, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC

A fear of footprints

I am afraid of stepping in the sand. For I am afraid of the mark I will leave. I am uncertain of the imprint I will make. And I am afraid of what it would mean. Perhaps, It will be small and insignificant. Just a pathetic footprint, That the wind will blow away with time. Forgotten. Erased. Never to have been. I am afraid of disturbing the sand. Thousands of tiny rocks, moved By me. What if move them the wrong way? Is there even room for me, Amongst the sea of small stones? Or, What if I take my first step and fall? Thats not the mark I want to leave. Thats not how I want to be remembered. Someday, I will have to take that step. Afterall, we all must move forward. But I dread the day I must go, And venture out into the desert, For I am afraid. What if the sand is too hot? Perhaps, it will burn my toes. What if I’m too weak? What if I go the wrong way? And my footprint points, in the wrong direction? What if others will follow my steps? If I was lost, I wouldn’t want them to be lost too. It takes thought, How will I step on this sand of time? Will I tiptoe on, Cautiously, Just enjoying the walk, And be at peace Knowing my steps won’t last? Or, Should I jump, at the risk of falling? And engrave a mark that the world will feel And keep for years to come, Like the fossils in a museum? Either way, I will still be afraid.

49

Its yellow with white shutters With flowers in clusters, Surrounding the big green yard A rocker outside, wooden and bold So one can get busy growing old With a cabinet of homemade jams jared A big garage to the right To work and play in at night Filled with half done projects and dust Oil, gears, and tools to carry Every man’s sanctuary With broken machines and the smell of rust A tire swing swinging Child’s laughter ringing Around the maple tree outback River flowing nearby And a kite flying in the sky The small orchard outfront brings a snack. A garden planted where the sun is fair And the pathway to it is curved Inside there are colors Hypnotizing to others And a pump for water to be served Ivy streaming up the walls Vines curling as they crawl Like the Christmas lights of spring The windows glisten As the residents listen To the song birds in their nests sing A winding staircase inside With secret compartments to hide Countless precious or priceless things While happy photos paint the walls And the small vases in the halls Hold flowers with petals like butterfly wings. The living room displays a simple radio to see Which winter replaces with a Christmas tree Beautiful music is played every hour And depending on the season Or any other special reason The joyous residents will sing with notes sour Food on the table A comfy couch for cable As the pie sits on the window to cool A cookie jar ready to serve But only given to those deserved And the sweet smell could make anyone drool In the study, take a look To find a shelf full of books Some are worn from use, others are untouched All are worth a read To a hungry mind to feed And an old diary nearby waits to be clutched Paintings strewn all around Bought, handmade, or found In rooms decorated with western antiques Family heirlooms displayed Heritage; dusty, old, and frayed Proving that each family's history is unique But at the heart of it all At the back of the wall Is the cradle thats held so many a child And when death takes its toll And captures the parents’ souls Perhaps, the children will cherish something so mild And the house and the cradle will hold many more

0

Jul 3, 2013

Jul 3, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC

The home

Its yellow with white shutters With flowers in clusters, Surrounding the big green yard A rocker outside, wooden and bold So one can get busy growing old With a cabinet of homemade jams jared A big garage to the right To work and play in at night Filled with half done projects and dust Oil, gears, and tools to carry Every man’s sanctuary With broken machines and the smell of rust A tire swing swinging Child’s laughter ringing Around the maple tree outback River flowing nearby And a kite flying in the sky The small orchard outfront brings a snack. A garden planted where the sun is fair And the pathway to it is curved Inside there are colors Hypnotizing to others And a pump for water to be served Ivy streaming up the walls Vines curling as they crawl Like the Christmas lights of spring The windows glisten As the residents listen To the song birds in their nests sing A winding staircase inside With secret compartments to hide Countless precious or priceless things While happy photos paint the walls And the small vases in the halls Hold flowers with petals like butterfly wings. The living room displays a simple radio to see Which winter replaces with a Christmas tree Beautiful music is played every hour And depending on the season Or any other special reason The joyous residents will sing with notes sour Food on the table A comfy couch for cable As the pie sits on the window to cool A cookie jar ready to serve But only given to those deserved And the sweet smell could make anyone drool In the study, take a look To find a shelf full of books Some are worn from use, others are untouched All are worth a read To a hungry mind to feed And an old diary nearby waits to be clutched Paintings strewn all around Bought, handmade, or found In rooms decorated with western antiques Family heirlooms displayed Heritage; dusty, old, and frayed Proving that each family's history is unique But at the heart of it all At the back of the wall Is the cradle thats held so many a child And when death takes its toll And captures the parents’ souls Perhaps, the children will cherish something so mild And the house and the cradle will hold many more

67

I am the container, the glass house in life I'm fragile and bleed at the end of a knife I'm also an outlet, a way to express The one labouring to clean any mess The pack mule to this game The one to physically bear the pain I'm overworked and under-appreciated The only connection to the outside Because I work as a shield against it I have ragged and punched, laughed, and cried I take the abuse and protect everything inside I am, The Body But what would life be without feeling? A meaningless thing forever reeling. I am the meaning, I find it in everything I am the reason for the body’s being I find beauty in almost every place The body's my cage, I'm encased I feel love, hate, and sympathy A body cannot compete with me I pump, I beat, I am the center of life Art, happiness, pain, and strife Are all things I feel and beat for All things I wish to feel more Without me Life would cease to be They call me The heart Although the body is the vessel And the beat of the heart is essential My pristine thoughts reign Supreme The logical analyzer to this being I am the true controller The undeniable all-knower The silly heart dabbers in petty things While I know best about everything The drone of a body needs my command In order to react, feel, or stand My impulses and neurons reside as the head of all muscles inside I am capable of miraculous lengths My tissue is competent for amazing strengths Throughout life I have had names of all kind But my preferred entitlement is, The Mind Physical presence is a wondrous thing but its dying, weak, and fleeting Have you forgotten why you breath? Is it really that hard to conceive? Life is discouraging but inner peace is true The safe haven you seek has always been inside you Spiritually there is more than meets the eye Something that gives you life before you die For centuries mankind has tried to solve this mystery What energy leaves the dead behind in a cemetery? What is life? What does it mean? The heart, the mind, and the body? Is that really all there can be? No my friends..... Remember me? The light inside of this entity The whisper bringing breath to the eyes The warmth inside the heart to surprise The essence of life before its taken its toll I am love, I am spirit, I am The Soul.

0

Jul 3, 2013

Jul 3, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC

Argument of importance

I am the container, the glass house in life I'm fragile and bleed at the end of a knife I'm also an outlet, a way to express The one labouring to clean any mess The pack mule to this game The one to physically bear the pain I'm overworked and under-appreciated The only connection to the outside Because I work as a shield against it I have ragged and punched, laughed, and cried I take the abuse and protect everything inside I am, The Body But what would life be without feeling? A meaningless thing forever reeling. I am the meaning, I find it in everything I am the reason for the body’s being I find beauty in almost every place The body's my cage, I'm encased I feel love, hate, and sympathy A body cannot compete with me I pump, I beat, I am the center of life Art, happiness, pain, and strife Are all things I feel and beat for All things I wish to feel more Without me Life would cease to be They call me The heart Although the body is the vessel And the beat of the heart is essential My pristine thoughts reign Supreme The logical analyzer to this being I am the true controller The undeniable all-knower The silly heart dabbers in petty things While I know best about everything The drone of a body needs my command In order to react, feel, or stand My impulses and neurons reside as the head of all muscles inside I am capable of miraculous lengths My tissue is competent for amazing strengths Throughout life I have had names of all kind But my preferred entitlement is, The Mind Physical presence is a wondrous thing but its dying, weak, and fleeting Have you forgotten why you breath? Is it really that hard to conceive? Life is discouraging but inner peace is true The safe haven you seek has always been inside you Spiritually there is more than meets the eye Something that gives you life before you die For centuries mankind has tried to solve this mystery What energy leaves the dead behind in a cemetery? What is life? What does it mean? The heart, the mind, and the body? Is that really all there can be? No my friends..... Remember me? The light inside of this entity The whisper bringing breath to the eyes The warmth inside the heart to surprise The essence of life before its taken its toll I am love, I am spirit, I am The Soul.

63

I happened to fall down a great big hole And the dive into darkness shook my soul The world then turned upside down when I saw locked doors all around I chased after a hopping bundle of white searching for happiness and some light Crying a pool of tears How in the world did I get here? Thats when I met you and your smiling face I thought I had finally found hope in this place Your grin beamed like a crescent moon So captivating I couldn't help but swoon So cheeky, fun, and hypnotizing I didn't know you were secretly criticizing You told me which way to go I can't believe I didn't know I never thought that the nice boy, would be made of smoke You’re a liar, a Cheshire cat I can't believe I ever trusted that That devilish smile, and those big bright eyes How could I not see through that disguise? Should have listened to the wise words said By a blue oracle whispering in my head You tricked me, looks like I was used But it doesn't matter as long as you're amused? I feel like shrinking in my skin at the thought of your incessant grin I thought you were there for me That you cared for me But that was an act, a front, a lie I Discovered a teaspoon of truth and said goodbye I'm sorry, baby, but you’re a pig With deceitful eyes and smile that's big You’re a red rose that's painted itself white Later I knew something wasn't right But I should have seen it right from the start You're nothing but a beautiful but sour **** Did you think I wouldn’t notice how distant you’ve become? Well then,Dear, you're as stupid as tweedle dee and tweedle dum I saw your game, your stack of cards You led me to trust your delusive accords You left me here, amongst the chaos and confusion Sick from a potion I had to drink to believe your delusion I'm the queen of a broken heart and all I see is red If I had my way, it would be “Off with your head!”

0

Jun 30, 2013

Jun 30, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC

The Queen of broken hearts

I happened to fall down a great big hole And the dive into darkness shook my soul The world then turned upside down when I saw locked doors all around I chased after a hopping bundle of white searching for happiness and some light Crying a pool of tears How in the world did I get here? Thats when I met you and your smiling face I thought I had finally found hope in this place Your grin beamed like a crescent moon So captivating I couldn't help but swoon So cheeky, fun, and hypnotizing I didn't know you were secretly criticizing You told me which way to go I can't believe I didn't know I never thought that the nice boy, would be made of smoke You’re a liar, a Cheshire cat I can't believe I ever trusted that That devilish smile, and those big bright eyes How could I not see through that disguise? Should have listened to the wise words said By a blue oracle whispering in my head You tricked me, looks like I was used But it doesn't matter as long as you're amused? I feel like shrinking in my skin at the thought of your incessant grin I thought you were there for me That you cared for me But that was an act, a front, a lie I Discovered a teaspoon of truth and said goodbye I'm sorry, baby, but you’re a pig With deceitful eyes and smile that's big You’re a red rose that's painted itself white Later I knew something wasn't right But I should have seen it right from the start You're nothing but a beautiful but sour **** Did you think I wouldn’t notice how distant you’ve become? Well then,Dear, you're as stupid as tweedle dee and tweedle dum I saw your game, your stack of cards You led me to trust your delusive accords You left me here, amongst the chaos and confusion Sick from a potion I had to drink to believe your delusion I'm the queen of a broken heart and all I see is red If I had my way, it would be “Off with your head!”

48

I stare at his rich fair skin and get lost in his dark brown eyes There is a genuine look to him No front, no act, no disguise How friendly those eyes are! Warm and inviting, they shine They laugh and shimmer like a star Oh how I wish their gaze to been mine His kind heart seeps through as his face pirks Beautiful lips pull up displaying his perfect teeth His cheek and jaw bones accentuate his smirk His cheerfulness shows outside and underneath Every Line, every shadow, every mark on his skin Was divinely created to hold the shape of a grin What a shame it would be to see this face frown What a crime it would be to see a tear shed on this masterpiece as precious as a crown This peaceful happiness that radiates from his head Innocent and trusting, his heart lives on his sleeve The natural state of his face is a joyous smile There’s a brilliance around him I hope will never leave Being honest, genuine,and sweet is his style I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't seen this art He has a wondrous air about him it seems A secret light in his smile that warms the heart A smiling face so bright It beams!

0

Jun 30, 2013

Jun 30, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC

A face made for smiling

I stare at his rich fair skin and get lost in his dark brown eyes There is a genuine look to him No front, no act, no disguise How friendly those eyes are! Warm and inviting, they shine They laugh and shimmer like a star Oh how I wish their gaze to been mine His kind heart seeps through as his face pirks Beautiful lips pull up displaying his perfect teeth His cheek and jaw bones accentuate his smirk His cheerfulness shows outside and underneath Every Line, every shadow, every mark on his skin Was divinely created to hold the shape of a grin What a shame it would be to see this face frown What a crime it would be to see a tear shed on this masterpiece as precious as a crown This peaceful happiness that radiates from his head Innocent and trusting, his heart lives on his sleeve The natural state of his face is a joyous smile There’s a brilliance around him I hope will never leave Being honest, genuine,and sweet is his style I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't seen this art He has a wondrous air about him it seems A secret light in his smile that warms the heart A smiling face so bright It beams!

29

She looks for everyone's approval, and its almost sad to see That she concerns herself with petty things that aren’t important to anybody She bases her whole worth on her beauty, her values are clearly displaced She searches for love with her image alone, her body, her hair, her face. She craves the attention her looks give her, for its the only attention she has ever been shown How sad it must be to live life as she does, surrounded by admirers but still, somehow, ….....alone....... All her energy and time is devoted to her beauty, she is a Glorious shell ...with nothing inside Thrown into the arms of a boy who will hurt her as soon as his interests in her appeal subside She constantly asks how she looks, she desperately searches for praise from anyone to see A naive child, finds she is only known for her body But if not for her attraction, What would there be? A lonely little girl doomed to being nobody. She cannot abandon this life that she knows, For its the only one she knows best The illusion she portrays is the power that she holds in a world where there is no rest. While some would die for this beauty she has, in reality it causes her pain and a nagging unfulfilled urge Starving herself, Crying at night, Having the eyes of others And a mirror Rule her life Cause an emptiness she longs to purge While some seek love from its innermost source she finds it in its most fading mirage But to face the world with closed eyes and only your naked soul to be seen.... That Is true Courage.

0

Jun 30, 2013

Jun 30, 2013 at 7:03 AM UTC

The mirage of beauty

She looks for everyone's approval, and its almost sad to see That she concerns herself with petty things that aren’t important to anybody She bases her whole worth on her beauty, her values are clearly displaced She searches for love with her image alone, her body, her hair, her face. She craves the attention her looks give her, for its the only attention she has ever been shown How sad it must be to live life as she does, surrounded by admirers but still, somehow, ….....alone....... All her energy and time is devoted to her beauty, she is a Glorious shell ...with nothing inside Thrown into the arms of a boy who will hurt her as soon as his interests in her appeal subside She constantly asks how she looks, she desperately searches for praise from anyone to see A naive child, finds she is only known for her body But if not for her attraction, What would there be? A lonely little girl doomed to being nobody. She cannot abandon this life that she knows, For its the only one she knows best The illusion she portrays is the power that she holds in a world where there is no rest. While some would die for this beauty she has, in reality it causes her pain and a nagging unfulfilled urge Starving herself, Crying at night, Having the eyes of others And a mirror Rule her life Cause an emptiness she longs to purge While some seek love from its innermost source she finds it in its most fading mirage But to face the world with closed eyes and only your naked soul to be seen.... That Is true Courage.

38

Its not that serious, its not that sincere Lights and electricity, not really what they appear They’re numbers and codes, not actual actions Its binary code, not true transactions Don’t take it to heart, its too cold to have a pulse Full of electric charges but no flesh to convulse Its just a network, not real interactions It doesn’t matter what is said, they are just letters and captions There aren’t any rules, why would there be? Its through wires and plugs, not genuine ability Don’t take it personally, you are not meant to Typed smiles and faces, the likeness they woe! But they have no unique attributes to be weighty to you. Say what you want, its different here No face to look at.. no eye to tear..... Don’t act like yourself, you’re not yourself anymore The detachment of this tragedy strikes you to the core Lash out if you want, there is no real person to receive your blow A username, a picture, no one you really know. Tell them they are nothing! you’re right, aren’t you? They are just lifeless drones with nothing else to do. Exercise your anger, its all an outlet here You can get more attention here than you did anywhere Its virtual, Its cold, a social evolution! Its clean and pure, no emotional pollution. No responsibility, this world is like a dream...... Become another person, And hide behind a screen.

0

Jun 30, 2013

Jun 30, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC

Shock to monitor

Its not that serious, its not that sincere Lights and electricity, not really what they appear They’re numbers and codes, not actual actions Its binary code, not true transactions Don’t take it to heart, its too cold to have a pulse Full of electric charges but no flesh to convulse Its just a network, not real interactions It doesn’t matter what is said, they are just letters and captions There aren’t any rules, why would there be? Its through wires and plugs, not genuine ability Don’t take it personally, you are not meant to Typed smiles and faces, the likeness they woe! But they have no unique attributes to be weighty to you. Say what you want, its different here No face to look at.. no eye to tear..... Don’t act like yourself, you’re not yourself anymore The detachment of this tragedy strikes you to the core Lash out if you want, there is no real person to receive your blow A username, a picture, no one you really know. Tell them they are nothing! you’re right, aren’t you? They are just lifeless drones with nothing else to do. Exercise your anger, its all an outlet here You can get more attention here than you did anywhere Its virtual, Its cold, a social evolution! Its clean and pure, no emotional pollution. No responsibility, this world is like a dream...... Become another person, And hide behind a screen.

29