secret-garden
I am a believer, a lover, a non-violent fighter, a breather, a driver, an undecided degree seeker, I am a daughter, a grand-daughter, a speaker and a writer, I am a friend, an enemy, and a dedicated dreamer. I'm a sleeper, a team member (green all the way, baby), a customer, an aunt, a life-changer. I am the one you never forget, the one that got away, the one that won't ever turn you down, if you have something you need to say. I am a LISTENER. A screamer, at the trees and about my love. I am what I am, and for me, its enough.
The pain slowly rises up from the toenails of swollen feet, begging to thrive, to not be released... Pulling you in, like an over needy friend, drowning remorse sounds hollow and coarse.
A master of reality design, she finally began to analyze, who was this boy and what did he want, why was it him that got what he got?
An advocate for the weak, something only some can understand, she never had any idea that he was nothing like most men... He was purely a design, a fragment of her mind, a poorly put together story that rhymed, so alone is where she cries, trying again to analyze.
She finds a poem to recite
A voice if she might
Fight this new found stage fright
So many times, they stood at the end of the stage, silently filling her heart with rage.
She ran
She ran as far away from home as she could with that man,
With packs too heavy and without an open hand, together they ran.
Him from his choices, her from those voices
They kept screaming she would fail.
She wanted to run far enough away that by the time she was home they wouldn't know what to say.. But she came home and had to stay.
Reanalyze the pain.
See again what she had left in shame.
The pain.
Please God be with her, please help her pray, please come down to her, and take her pain away
He held her down and blindfolded her, whispered in her ear that she was flying, and then blew wind in her hair as she was crying, calling it Ocean Air. Salty.
How dare me.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
I opened this card, to write to you, a birthday wish or two
but my pen touched the paper, and there wasn't anything I could do...
I felt the need to try and tell you,
about all of the things you do...
about your rolls at home,
or the streets you've roamed,
or the way you don't have the slightest clue
(although soon I am reminded, indeed you actually do...)
I wanted you to know,
I admire your mundane, unobtrusive, unforgiving glow
I admire your leadership, in an unbiased, newborn, kind of way.
I tell you Thanks, for more, than when you hold open the door...
Which you would probably do... Without anyone asking you...
I used to write stories about what everyone was doing wrong...
Then I would talk to you and write a poem,
and it was more like a textbook, written with life...
and in life, the reality of death, and all that death meant.
there was a calming sensation that I finally kept...
from all that I know, and from all that I've seen,
which is my only tangible reality...
I have come to the conclusion that you are a man from their dreams...
The Gods, and the Goddesses, that mythologically once sat around a table and hand picked each perfect little atom into what would one day become the likes, of you and me.
Inspiring beyond comprehension the only thing I can do is let the pen lend...a few words... or phrases... heavier than mentioned my heart races with tension when I try and envision that dimension and remember that lesson, about doing good with the time we're given...
I stop, and I smile. And I say thank you again, because you're the most refreshing of men. You are touching lives, and I want you to know, I am blessed, and speechless, and full of pride to stand here telling you Happy Birthday, tonight.
If ever I gave someone the feeling you give me, my only hope is that their pen becomes just as heavy, and they write about what it meant to them, to have a new place, for a life long friend.
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
The way the thunder rolls through every nerve in every tip of every finger
as she types words she did not know she had inside her,
she is confronted with a passion that looks similar to desire
she is tempted, and she plays with fire
With a firecness not yet like the lion
she allows fears to conspire
and while she is longing for attention
he put himself in detention
refusing to break through
allowing fears to consume
she didn't have even the slightest clue....
I found happiness inside of me
the way life had designed me
I am a pawn and I have yet to be played
forget me not, in my fits of rage
for I see life different but the same..
Thank God he forced me to become more awake
in a way I had never found more mistakes
but an innocence that whispered it would all be okay...
for in the depth of emotion do we find the words we call potions
Froget me not, you Charming Prince,
forget me not, in a blissful kiss,
forgive me my dear,
and forget your fears
forget your worries and be with me,
here.
You saw yourself writing dreams,
while my plans began looking a little naive
and as I find me,
you are forced to find you,
but I pray that we find each other soon
I am me, and you are you, and if we end up together,
its through the storms that we have weathered
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
Not too sure which card to play,
Not too sure which words to say,
Finding it harder every day,
To be the person who asks you to stay,
Make the pain fade,
Make the song play,
Make this sadness go away,
Just tell me after everything
It will all be okay...
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
Let your soul bleed
let the words that are your everything
be heard by a thousand enemies
put down change for them to read
explain how you are not so different,
or better yet,
explain to them how different you are
Let your soul bleed
let every piece of every microscope thing
be felt inside the core of every humans being...
Let the words pour through you,
like never before
let the fire from your most passionate desires
be heard by a thousand minds you have inspired
Let your soul bleed....
Let your heart scream....
Let your self have everything you need...
Breathe
Because a writer, never dies..
through their fingertips they have an instant copyright
and with love as the only motive they accept life is passing by
but if they write their words in blood they live an eternal life
because she replied how forever was at least worth a try..
You will never die....
Your soul is something that can always stay alive...
You may loose your body, but not your essence of life...
scream
No one ever lied. No one ever said it would be easy ..
they all said it would be hard, and whispered confusing
but they gave you the tools, that some day you would use
now its your job to tighten any screws coming loose
Happiness is a way of life...you choose...
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 1:10 AM UTC
There was once an angel with one broken wing,
that had a vision of regrowth at the end of a dream,
woke up one morning and began fixing things
finished mending her method of flight,
again had the freedom to fly through the sky,
however fast, however high, however wrong, however right
And one day she was going about,
saw a spark of light amidst a very dark cloud,
she spoke to him and asked his name,
with no reply he only slowly grinned,
with the flash of a smile,
she was consumed by him
She stayed in captivity for a while unseen,
until again she awoke from a lucid dream,
determined to change everything
insisted she knew exactly how to break free
So she fought and she fought to knock the walls down,
but eventually found she had an easy way out,
slipped right though that crack and swore she'd never look back
As she flew she began to grow cold,
and it seemed she had forgotten where it was she had to go,
she flew in circles hoping no one would know,
but soon enough her secret was exposed
She asked for a hug,
to be reminded of love,
the way the maker had intended...
Wanting more she took out a loan
on a garden she was determined to grow
As the flowers bloomed she was again consumed
by the power of the spark,
as light shined through, her keeper knew,
she was ready again for what only he could do
She was surprised by the spark, his eyes pure blue,
his voice of reason so fresh, so new,
a past more broken, held together with glue
than the one she was fighting,
with a blindfold and noose
She made it through a great depression,
or so her mind had made her think,
but she was still young, and so very naive
this was a plan she could never foresee
So she went along, with the bigger plan,
learning how to let things happen,
discovering life, in a completely new light
making sense of the unimagined
She spent a day in silence,
tuning the entire atmosphere out,
and when she waited for the voice to come,
she was able to hear the sound
A voice so calm and steady,
familiar sweet and heavy,
telling her she's ready,
for the test she would be getting
It told her to stop, and slow it all down,
look at things a little differently now,
eliminate hate, and jealousy,
replace it with positivity
That loving yourself is the key to it all,
the only way to be sure you can handle the fall,
the right way to get through it even if you have to crawl,
the best way to ensure, the engines wont stall
As she began to understand this,
she no longer ignored pain,
she accepted these things for just what they were,
and started living again
And on a little journey,
she took with his spark today,
she found that he had found himself,
along the broken way
Again she was consumed,
but in a positive sort of way,
never again would she look
at any spark the same
The angel and that spark,
sit now on a different level,
holding hands tight like handles,
passion burning like candles,
caught up in the blaze
her plans went up in shambles
And maybe its the shambles,
that builds the stories end,
of a love that will never be lost,
and the finding of a friend
Forgive me while I sit here,
without too much to say,
but I find I become speechless,
when our souls begin to play
Push me, pull me, love me, hold me.
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 12:51 AM UTC
I thought it was a disease,
The way it had it's hold on me
But I was the one who was sick you see
I wanted to run, this time only physically
I let my mind rest, and suddenly it hit me
I was the rock kissing the dirt on the ground
Waiting to be forgotten or kicked around
So I asked for help and help was found
No longer waiting to be picked from the crowd
Standing my ground on the other side of town
I took a step back and came back wondering how
How did I waste, so many nights?
Looking for the answer, I was trying to hide
Reminding myself, I had to remember it right
When I asked for an angel, she sent me a few,
Gave me the tools, and a new book or two
Told me to read, and to write it all down,
Told me not to worry about the weight of the crown
She some how managed to show me,
I couldn't even stay in count
And the greatest gift I'd ever gotten,
Was learning how to slow it all down
Listening to the rhythm
A simple monotonous beat
A rather tedious feat
If you do ask me...
... I realized how much potential, waited in those keys...
The lessons were simple,
But simply never stated
But even in the afterlife,
She is trying to relay it
How thankful I am for the gift of her hand
Patiently teaching patience to me
So sing with me, just one more song,
The way no body's ever heard before...
Sing with me, and they'll come along,
Leaving worries not anywhere close to my door
Sing to me, until I fall asleep,
About those wooden ships, and lucid dreams
Sing to me, until I fall asleep, til my ears bleed and I begin to weep
Sing to me, until I no longer breathe and we make them see
living in song is all we can be
So sing that simple song to me..
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
Trying to juggle daydreams and night schemes,
Staying clean and flying free,
No one ever told her there wasn't ever a key
To the city they talked about under the sea
Where the buildings made of gold replaced liter in the streets
And happy was the saddest emotion you could ever be
Children were born knowing they could sing
And walking wasn't as impossible as some make it seem
No one ever told her there wasn't ever a key
How far will you go questioning if ends met means,
When did you know you would give up your dreams
I refuse to be the one that trampled your needs
If we can't walk together we can't walk as a team
I am begging you please, please, wait for me...
I'll catch up soon but I was being held back,
By the emotions you're teaching me
And the compassion you lack
How is it our lives found the same track?
When will reality be coming back?
Is this a fairy tale or a proven fact?
I'm tired too but not holding back
"I'm tired," doesn't mean I won't hear you
I may be tired but I live to be near you
We all get tired but I will stay up
So I can be the one you wake to
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 3:01 PM UTC
With two black eyes she refused to cry
She held it inside until thoughts of him had finally died
When she finally was free from anger and pride
She danced for the moon as her soul found the light
She graciously tip-toed in a gown made of lace
Thanking God above for helping her hold on to her faith
Remembering a song she heard some time before
She was ready and waiting, with the chains that she wore
When that day came, and the battle began
She was not the one with the gun in her hand
Instead she was waiting, accepting her fate
Until the gun didn't fire, and the realization was made
When the bullet of reality had finally hit her
She looked at his poor soul and saw what he had always been after
So she left that fight with her head held high
Because today was not her day to die
She called for help from around the block
Armed and dangerous was the message they felt
When they arrived and he pulled out his knife
The officer felt in fear of his life
With two black eyes she refused to cry
She held it inside until the day that he died
When she was finally free from anger and pride
She danced for the moon as her soul found the light.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
I knew a girl named Sally,
Her mom bought her a new pen,
Told her it was a magic wand,
Full of stories she had to tell them
Her mom bought a journal,
With the phrase,
"Your words can change the world"
Written in script on every page
She carried her journal with pride,
By day and by night,
She began understanding
She had the power to write
As her work progressed,
Her stories soon played out
She found the voice she never knew she possessed
Was heard when she wrote it down
So she began telling stories,
Of how people made her feel,
How Johnny gave her butterflies,
But didn't know that she was real
She told a long tale
About a friend she used to have,
Cindy from across the street
Who taught her how to sing
She wrote a lengthy novel,
About Martha Ann Gustavo
Who could play the Grand Piano
Better then Mr. Oswaldo
She colored a few pictures,
With her magic fun filled pen,
To illustrate the points she made
And to give more life to them
Its funny how your mind works,
When you let yourself find out,
You're capable of so much more
When you don't fill your head with doubts
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC