wulfhug
I never have much to put for my bio, but I would like you all to know this, the wolf is apart of my soul, and I've had enough of denying it so. / My thoughts and my heart are always speaking to me, and I'd like to place them here. / Just a 17 year old girl who's love for canines and nature and great friends and japan surpasses that of a normal human being. Yes I live in the city, and I am in love with stars. / / I feel like I can be at home, here. / I love to love. I love to write. / The deep and complex languages of my mind will land here. / Much too, will the silly bits. / / Poems of: Well, look and see. / Against all, and nothing, I can always write poetry. / / I am friendly, speak to me! I'd love to make new friends on here :3 Young or old!~ I'll speak to you if I find you o interest. Thank you for reading friends.
I love you so much but
I'm not going to change for you sweety
I'm changing for myself
I'm changing at my own pace
And for what I believe
Will be in the greatest interest
of all who I interact with too.
Darling, hush and evaluate yourself
I allow you to respond to my changing
If you cannot be patient you may leave
It's alright.
If you cannot believe
It's alright, its alright
Your loving me doesn't mean you have to stay
Your loving me doesn't mean you have to go
Your loving me. Means you love
yourself first
If you have to stay / If you have to go
To love
Yourself first
Then do so.
But,
I have decided to take my personal journey more seriously.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
dear kind reader,
humor is a very personal,
a very individual thing,
so,
i beg your pardon,
i never promised you a rose garden,
if the parlance of the street,
offends your nature so sweet,
i beg your pardon,
i never promised you a rose garden.
but this much i will confess,
funny i find much of this mess.
and i'd rather go to my grave,
with hearty laughter,
milk spilling laughter,
screaming ' yer killin' me!"
than any other way!
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
bathed in the cool light of the moon,
my sweet puppyhead and me,
sit.
under the full soft light,
her ray’s illuminating the yard,
the woods.
footsteps crunch drying leaves,
fox, deer or foe?
waning canopy,
boughs lighter each day.
fall, majestic, peaceful
dying for another year.
plants and creatures,
taking refuge in the deep dark void
of mother earth,
of mother nature.
squirreling away tidbits for a late winter snack,
coats blooming, thickening.
such delight,
each night,
sitting outside,
my puppyhead and me.
quiet and solitary,
no humans
annoying me.
silent and still
only nocturnal creatures
meandering about.
what magic,
what sacredness.
what mystical delight.
never apart,
only the ONE.
such silly confusion,
thinking a person,
separate and small,
quaking with fear.
the big deep dark mystery
laughing and jovial,
always here,
here for us all.
open your eyes,
feel your nature,
always here,
never apart.
fearing death
fearing life,
what a silly way to live this
life!
the moment you were born,
you began dying,
what a relief,
knowing the score!
relaxing into the madness,
laughing at it all,
pure and free,
forever more,
and not……
being,
not being,
eons of reflection,
sages and rishis
revealing the truth,
it can’t be done for you,
only you can become
that which you are….
that which you always were.
my sweet love, my sweet life,
my puppyhead and me,
sitting here in Fall.
~~~
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
*whimsical
fickle
oh sweet precious way of grace
you elude me
only because
i elude
'you'*
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
I enjoy distance
Long drives with no destination
Music blaring, miles growing
I enjoy distance
Long walks to nowhere
The peace calms my restless soul
I enjoy distance
Little steps each day
Away from difficult situations
I enjoy distance
Between people and places
And me
I enjoy distance
It gives perspective
Emancipation
I enjoy distance
I also enjoy coming home
When distance has run its course
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
I saw the old man circling the tree trunk
Weather beaten skin, bent gnarled hands
and piercing blue eyes
He seemed to study every knot and crack
in that ancient timber
Then without a word turned and picked up hammer and chisel
The wood chips then began to fly and like confetti on the ground lie soon in heaps some ankle high
Occasionally he would stand back and look but never once a rest he took
Mallet strokes both hard and soft some from under some aloft fell there with unerring skill always busy never still
Long into the night he worked now by the light of an oil lamp and so the tree stump 'neath his hand then became a work of art
At long last he stood and turned to me and said three words " that'll do lad"
I approached to see just what he'd done and there I saw the perfect rose every petal and leaf in place the slender stems in the breeze did sway
With no plan or picture he had made the start
And created the perfect work of art.
So what is creativity? Well that's your next challenge.
No love poems because they've been done a million times. This time something unique
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
*While I know
my dreams
are
running
down
a staircase
with.. ..shoe-laces.
.. untied ..*
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
I feel like a magic spell.
Cast upon hell, cast upon
everything right with this world.
I feel like an angel,
floating in my own head.
Singing words
into threads of melodic chance.
*here hope dies.
but I still live.
what a terrible, wonderful
nightmare and gift.*
Her essence remains,
it leaks into me, but...
only enough to keep in these
thick growing ropes of deceit
of a self
that cannot reside forever
*no one can see my little girl.
like I can see her.*
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
*Take me to a place where I can live.
Far away.
Where I can be, and I can stay.
Where I can relish everyday.*
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC