it takes time to sort through sometimes you may get lost it might be mind boggling but keep trying don't give up
I'm starting over fresh putting the past behind and moving forward with every Tic and every Toc with every minute passing upon the great clock I lose a little Yet I gain alot... Tic...Toc...Tic...Toc
lies they cover the heart with a very thin see through mask yet no heart is made of stone those words of jagged lies they cut through the bone causing some tattered edges of puffy pain filled eyes leaving continuing scars
the truth may hurt causing a misty covered mirror a tear or two may chip opening the eyes answering those questions in thought causing doubt but never asked the truth may be a bit messy but it will always set you free
inspired by "Amanda Goodness" -- http://hellopoetry.com/amanda-goodness/ from her profile message ---“The truth is messy. It's raw and uncomfortable. You can't blame people for preferring lies.”
drips of joy some of pain peel me you'll find restrain liked or disliked I‘m all the same aroma and sight so guess my name
--"Hint-Hint"--
don't take these words by surprise you might shed tears from your eyes many have complained that I'm a nuisance yet who I am is who I am and can't help how I was named open your eyes cant you see an "ONION" thats just me...
undermy stormy eyes filled with sorrow and pain standing drenched in tears falling like silver sheets of metal like a hawk in the night I'm listening to the sound of my pounding heart tasting my own salty tears
pressing my face against my mirror studding all the possibilities of what was wrong closed my eyes silently like the shutters that hung over my bed room windows then very gently, I took another look alone in this glass world wanting to scream but I can't because every wall was easy to break
mind was struggling to escape from this darkness it felt like a tightened noose around my throat fighting for air I could feel my body falling this is madness, insanity, I'm so confused and lost all I feel is the pain like a fist in my stomach I just stood there staring at the floor with tears in my eyes I never thought my heart would break because I guarded is so well
friends are still friends through words or not sometimes their words are all they've got... letter to letter they can communicate a letter of words can inform a friend "No I didn't forget your birth date" the message just got to them late but all in all the message got through they might even send one back to Thank You.
friends are still friends it doesn't really matter from distances close or afar words can be spoken from wherever you are typed or even by hand words can also be written to or from a friend
letters or poems of rhythm or rhyme a friend? to that I say "sure" a friend I'll be if you'll be one of mine a friend.... YIP-EEE !!! a friend of POETRY
( Keith Edward Baucum) asked me a QUESTION: "Can I be your friend just a friend through poetry.".? And this poem is my ANSWER:
caressing the tree tops stale wind blows like a stalker creeping on their tippi-toes transparent darkness across the sky it flows lost in this view where just a bit of sun shows blaketing day the night through time it goes
PASSION is tied and crocheted together with unraveling PLEASURE twisted in emotions a sadden soul is dying yet no one cares to know sorrow is drowning any small faint of GLOW covered in the shadows of a sandy desert island the stench of worry LINGERS the air as hesitation stains the heart black with PAIN like a FIRE that has not completely lost control a wall of distrust stands with burning halls of brick crumbling through the mind crevices strangled by the tightened barbwire of MEMORIES poking and cutting through the DESIRE to dream leaving behind deep scars that still hold HURT there's no TIME to question the INSTINCT this heart that was once filled with LOVE is now covered with a fading perfume of sadness there's no way to escape this TUNNEL of confusion this garden of hell has taken over ever inch of this MISTAKEN yet unsolved JOURNEY
I am afraid to imagine I don't know what could make me happier to shake the hand of a new found friendship to really get to know someone talk for a while never judge by looks or just a pretty smile what really matters is whom we find inside we have to see whats there we might be surprised of the friendships we could share we have to analyze, ask questions and take the time to get to know them yet it's not always easy to open up never judge their book by its cover don't over look the qualities that looks can sometimes hide
I didn't really understand what she was asking... but I think she wanted me to write a new poem with the same meaning... and I wrote one as I replied to her message.... and ...... here it is.....
each fallen letter scattered the tabletop sliding their shadows behind from the darkness into light A through Z the alphabet yearns for their wording placement
I sometimes get one of those headaches that lingers thinking it's gone but it's not I feel there isn't much I can do but purge my words onto my paper asking the lines to take it away I need to put these emotions somewhere I have been silent too long and I'm hoping my mind stays on track and the head ache goes away
change is inevitable the world is spinning but I feel lost in time trying to make sense of things but there was never sense... only feelings....I feel too much...
the wind may change directions and blow gray shadowed skies over me blocking my concentration driving my mind crazy
I try so hard to change the way the wind is blowing but my thoughts leaves behind many questions and yet sometimes I don't even feel like answering with "why" or "I don't know" yet those thoughts continue
I take in a deep breath and the gray will fade making things better I just keep moving forward with my chin up its never easy but everything will be alright
its a brand new year yet sometimes I just want the days to last longer but times does fly by with no way to slow it down no matter how hard I try
I float through time just like birds soaring the sky I live life to it fullest yet changing with each step I take the steps that I make as go are for my next generation to follow
I am still able to keep my flow through every word I type or write I can feel just what and how I feel it really inspires me for this I know Yes I do, I do really understand I must be patient for it takes time to heal I can tell that all will be ok
change is such a good thing to see for without change the Earth just might stop its spin; then where would I be?
I'm leaving you behind this is our last kiss and for that I am fine my past is where you'll be it was all your fault it will be me you'll miss I'm done; finally free to make something new it's your lost not mine Goodbye I'm ride of you
sunshine lingers land over receding tides seashells on the sand carring the ocean within with a warm gentle touch there silent whispers unfold held to my ear I listen as a beautiful story is told
a false clay mask covers clenched faces hoping the edges wont break held together by the cracks of the bitten lips a single drop of pain reignite the agony for silent it wont remain behind the quiet yet heavy mind full of deep confusion black clouds of frustration overlaps the screams of the crying heart
the flight of nature under its feet embracing and absorbing the world floating high above in plain sight singing its lovely song so sweet spreading its gentle wings so light soaring through life's wonderful sky full of desire sailing so gracefully through the colors of the rainbow its destination may be unknown yet with its determination it will fly
that first moment I lose myself I cant remember but its carved deep in my heart I just know I'll surrendered to something greater than anything else I live my life searching for it again and again its not lust its not passion just what can it be? that moment is it PURE LOVE?
no lit light bulb or wowing spark has hit me yet! I've opened every phone line and every book or magazine I could find they use to bulge with my dreams & aspirations today my eyes are down and my ears are wired shut I think I've loss my muse will I remain uninspired?
when the words are hard to express out loud or other people just can't seem to understand I write to release all my anger or frustration grabbing a pen or a sharpened pencil in my hand leaving smudged lead or wet ink on my finger tips scribbling jotting down all the thoughts that attack conquering my mind trying hard to escape my lips releasing emotions that pull me down or hold me back the knotted tongue of confusion is loosen now untied I'm able to climb out from the depths of the dark pit grabbing Life's sturdy rope that depression tried to hide
cute,funny, smart makes you wonder whats behind the smile charming, sweet, satisfying may sooth the urge for a little while yet not your cup of tea not a toy on a string I've made up my mind I'm not your play thing I refuse to waste more of my precious time if you love me why wont you just set me free?
there are as many definitions of poetry as there are poets as a writer I feel poetry is a form of art; the antidote for depression an illness that can take a away all hope from a determined soul with a passion for living life but not enough strength to climb from the deep pit of darkness that shadows the heart
I know from experience that poetry is a powerful antidote yet it may not cure depression but will help keep it under control my mind I know is an ocean flooded with feelings, emotions and thoughts when its too hard to say what I feel I grab my pen and poetry become the paint of my unspoken thoughts
poetry is my lasso of words that has pulled barbwire of confused thoughts from the crevices of my thinking mind bridging from the rocky cliffs of frustration to the solid valley covered lands of peace
hidden in the hovering clouds of depression is a locked door that blocks the exit of a crisp and clear wonderful world holding the true beauty of imagination hostage yet to free the darkened soul use the antidote for it is the powerful key unlocking creativity as a writer I call this; the key of "POETRY"
broke her heart did he there was no time to think was it her fault thought she a glass of ***** was her drink was it the glass that he forebid or the slip of her tongue and sadden face for told a huge lie is what she did her heart in her ears poundin at a fast pace tears ran down her cheeks from her eyes she dare not look at him any more for it was him that she despize that's what she was drinking for
I feel drinking, drugs, or even suicide is NEVER a solution to any temporary problem.
bottled with emotions of impatient confused thoughts hopping lily-pads and jumping rocks my brain holds it all like a shooken soda bottle ....fizz...fizz....fizz...zzzzzzz.. ..
WAIT !!! don't twist the cap..
my mind is like an incubator for it may take a while for a good idea to develop
there are so many definitions of poetry yet the lines shout out my name it's time to release some of my pain write words about love and hate as fast as I can, at every rate pick up a pen, begin to write start with an idea, a thought, a light dreams and hopes are in creation my pen turn curves with such imagination emotion spilling out on every line with a flow, a mark, with rhythm and rhyme explaining a point with a written voice revealing my life, showing my choice feelings splashing on each page I am no longer in my quiet stage let it all out and set it all free I call it my definition of poetry
me as a poet use my written words and my canvas is you; "the reader"...
echoed steps faster pace shadows on every corner running with no destination tripping over her confusion she's now on the ground eyes covered with fright
Can the ocean really get flooded?. when the ocean in my brain gets flooded ......
my thoughts are tangled up in the tornado twisting and turning in my head surrounding my brain that fight through the tossing thoughts, emotions and feelings that my lips may have trouble speaking my pen is the oar I use to pull my drowning soul out from the troubles waters
The ship wreck of words sail through the rough thinking waters running fast causing a whirlpool headache as they fight pushing and clawing at my brain walls yet surviving thoughts that were able to brake free from the storm of depression they smudge a trail through the dripping wet ink falling from my oar of a writing pen dragging behind the clustering drift wood of lost words smearing through the lines of the solid land of paper
my brain calms down a bit to inspect the rest stop of provided free range of open writing space clearing the way for all the injured broken pieces of memories and lost thoughts that were still floating behind the mind is trying to stay focus by thinking, searching for any surviving notions or ideas that hangs there on the tip of my tongue
tossing out the remembering lifesavers to pull in other surfacing thoughts that wants and need to be revived from the fallen debris clustered crews of gathered thoughts form as my pen holds the ink of hope and inspiration dragging my down confused depressed soul to safety by writing my trapped untold story
ink its flowing through the valleys of paper marking detailing the saved unspoken words freed from the clutches of depressions prison my brain can now release its story through my scrawling pen that I hold in my writing hand
There are always traps of frustration, confusion and depression; which is the worse pitfall of them all the war from the thinking process is never over preparing for their battle I take the action to grab the already loaded weapon for writing; the "INK PEN"
my thoughts are chasing the words as my mind attempts to catch them before they fly away and disappear my pen taps breaking the silence the ink awaits its turn to touch the blue lines of my white paper which holds the empty space for what ever I want to be written
its a brand new year yet sometimes we just want the days to last longer but times does fly by with no way to slow it down no matter how hard we try
we float through time just like birds soaring the sky we live life to the fullest yet changing with each step we take the steps that we make as we go are for our next generation to follow
change is such a good thing to see for without change the Earth just might stop its spin; then where would we be?
failed yet false exploding smile belly full of butterflies heart skipping pulse in lost of illusive alibis time measured and deceiving lies over lapping lies
teeth and fist tightly secured hard as stone belly knot tied blocked tears resisted it was me who cried
living through silent droplets that fall from the eyes unable to forget the wounds written by the fallen lies down the red stained cheeks with belly knots and ties the broken hearts hurt soul tries its best to hold on while hope is slowly being stolen by lies over lapping lies
no words in the world could really describe what I feel deep inside I wrote a letter in my mind that turned into a message that I wanted to send hoping you it will find by sailing through the wind
I received your letter one day it really had me thinking bringing tears to my eyes with no real reason why friends I thought we were you and I but all I found inside was the sad words "Good-bye"
my thoughts aren't always sublime my grammar could be right or wrong trapping my mind; forming a block where the words might be hard to find a notebook in my pocket; a pen in my hand always seeing everything so inspiring sometimes others can't seem to comprehend leaving wet ink to dry on my finger tips dreaming, thinking, jotting down the thoughts that's conquering my mind trying to escape my lips being who I am I make writing an everyday task for there seems to always be something on my mind to write or not to write is the question to ask
she failed to take a breath as her darkened thoughts penetrate through the hollow core of her soul the feeling of nausea hit and came with her fear of death
worry lingered her thinking brain covering the walls with ugliness her mind is stained black with pain what was she to do; leave or weep? there was no comprehension of the monster which she was about to meet
she's choking on falling tears that claw down her sadden face there's no escaping the monster in the crevices of her mind hovering her deepest thoughts
with no mask concealing the shadows of her darkened fears she had no time at all to inhale dripping wet eyes filled up with hesitation crying tears of sadness that has taken over her warm soul
the monster trapping her soul strangles her with a tightened noose coated with hurt and pain its barbwire teeth of darkness holds her head down very low chaining her against the wall she hangs there deep in sorrow away from the world all alone reflecting on yesterday's rain
she could not speak; her silence caused her tears to tumble the damaged thoughts down every line of the damp pages smudged with her words of the hurt and pain that covered every inch of her inside journal
there is true darkness trapping her soul leading her through a maze of loneliness causing her to loose the shape of her whole the young girl she use to be has vanished leaving her a confused woman living in her own garden of hell