samyarb - Hello Poetry

The day lights are turning down a dark citrus sky 4: 38 pm, just as predicted The clouds are orange with snow Rain jacket polyester pants beanie Where are my gloves? I'm going for a walk. Uphill towards the woods it seems my feet are one step ahead of me my legs know where to go I know there are no lights to guide me. I know Jesse said there was a bear yesterday, just down the street. I know I have no protection. But I'm at the edge of the woods now and I feel them beckon Is it the trees? Is it me? I have to walk this path. I can feel each step slower more hesitant than the last My stride, stalling I'm getting closer my eyes scan the darkness frantically producing shapes of beasts that aren't there I have to walk this path. I flip my hood onto my back I need to hear. I stuff my beanie into my pocket I flex my ears to listen. Every sense is at attention. Is that my heart beat? Far enough, I decide. I stop to see slow-falling snow. A forest of dusky pines wavering in the wind. A swirl berry sky. My fear has turned to wonder. My eyes are that of a camera each blink- the shudder of a snapshot. I stop and look back three times, on my way out swearing to never forget how exhilarating it is to be alive. I have to walk this path.

0

Jan 15, 2016

Jan 15, 2016 at 1:00 PM UTC

samyarb

Night Woods

The day lights are turning down a dark citrus sky 4: 38 pm, just as predicted The clouds are orange with snow Rain jacket polyester pants beanie Where are my gloves? I'm going for a walk. Uphill towards the woods it seems my feet are one step ahead of me my legs know where to go I know there are no lights to guide me. I know Jesse said there was a bear yesterday, just down the street. I know I have no protection. But I'm at the edge of the woods now and I feel them beckon Is it the trees? Is it me? I have to walk this path. I can feel each step slower more hesitant than the last My stride, stalling I'm getting closer my eyes scan the darkness frantically producing shapes of beasts that aren't there I have to walk this path. I flip my hood onto my back I need to hear. I stuff my beanie into my pocket I flex my ears to listen. Every sense is at attention. Is that my heart beat? Far enough, I decide. I stop to see slow-falling snow. A forest of dusky pines wavering in the wind. A swirl berry sky. My fear has turned to wonder. My eyes are that of a camera each blink- the shudder of a snapshot. I stop and look back three times, on my way out swearing to never forget how exhilarating it is to be alive. I have to walk this path.

53

At times you will tether yourself to another And pull hand over hand just to discover you've woven every strand but all you are holding is a rope made of sand

0

Jan 15, 2016

Jan 15, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC

samyarb

Proclivity

At times you will tether yourself to another And pull hand over hand just to discover you've woven every strand but all you are holding is a rope made of sand

7

I watch the sun see through the trees through the glass, see through me. This great star saturates my window brightly warms my hand, as if in proposition. My smile concedes like a girl that has just been asked to dance. An unstoppable smile. I belong out there, in the trees At the source Eating sunshine and sipping starbursts Filter free. I roll down the window as if to shout "Stop! Drop me off here". But all I have are excuses: "Bad timing," I say. And the sun may see, but it does not hear.

0

Dec 4, 2015

Dec 4, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC

samyarb

The Scenic Route

I watch the sun see through the trees through the glass, see through me. This great star saturates my window brightly warms my hand, as if in proposition. My smile concedes like a girl that has just been asked to dance. An unstoppable smile. I belong out there, in the trees At the source Eating sunshine and sipping starbursts Filter free. I roll down the window as if to shout "Stop! Drop me off here". But all I have are excuses: "Bad timing," I say. And the sun may see, but it does not hear.

23

My eyes are in your room I can see that you're everything I'm not You're red satin sheets You're sure naked steel I'm only a quiver in the dark. Is it you or is it me? My mouth feels like a magnet pulling you in Until I'm everything you are Until your body is an ellipsis A sentence left incomplete And I'm the eager exclamation point, finishing you off. My eyes are in your room and nothing looks the same.

0

Dec 4, 2015

Dec 4, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC

samyarb

Parenthesis on Fire

My eyes are in your room I can see that you're everything I'm not You're red satin sheets You're sure naked steel I'm only a quiver in the dark. Is it you or is it me? My mouth feels like a magnet pulling you in Until I'm everything you are Until your body is an ellipsis A sentence left incomplete And I'm the eager exclamation point, finishing you off. My eyes are in your room and nothing looks the same.

16