Some poems are hard, I just don’t know what to write
the words stick in the back of my head
and refuse to form sentences and lines.
I sit and wait and hope for the words but
they are lost in the jumble that is my thoughts
like a tangled ball of yarn I have to untangle it piece by piece

and hope it is usable and not just a pile of ruined thoughts.
it reminds me of knitting a sweater
stitch by stitch, word by word, it comes together
and after work and some time it makes
a beautiful thing to be worn and showed off,
but sometimes it fails and falls apart

it unravels in my hands and the hard work
that I have put my love into is lost  
it crumbles like a cliff into the sea
making waves that crash and wreck my body
leaving it helpless and crumpled
like the ball of paper I threw on the floor.

a small white ball on a grey floor,
the beauty of it hits me and I find my inspiration
it’s something simple but isn’t all beauty simple?
the curl of hair on a lover stretched out like a cat in the sun
moonlight floating through the window
falling on a pale white limb so much like the paper

with scribbles and crossed out lines
the paper is beautiful, damaged yes
but beautiful none the less, like a body
with curves and waves and endings and beginnings
scars and stretch marks pail in the dark
shining like tears on the cheek of a girl who lost

lost a parent, or a love, or lost the part of her
that cried “you are beautiful
“you are loved, it’s okay not to be okay
“as long as you rise up again and what ever
you do, do not forget who you are”
it is beauty plain and simple

and as you read my piece of paper
with the lost poem of the girl who fell apart you’ll see
its simple the floor is the sky and the word are stars

52

Whether my bark went down at sea—
Whether she met with gales—
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails—

By what mystic mooring
She is held today—
This is the errand of the eye
Out upon the Bay.

I called for her and she came to me,
In my lucid state.
She looked so different, so beautiful,
So radiant, and free.
"Visit me," I begged, finding that she was getting harder and harder to see.
"Not yet, you aren't ready. I only come to those who need me."
I began to understand, tears streaming down my face at a fast rate.
There was nothing I could do, she was gone as quickly as she came.
So until the day I need her, I must patiently wait.
I just hope you know that without you here, nothing is the same.

Some people smoke
Some people drink
Some people do drugs
And others fall in love

They all die in different ways

Splendor of a moonlit night
frozen in vacuum silence of desolate air
lies within reach.
Let the mind break its golden cage
and spread flapping wings.
The sky and stars, trees and earth
will absorb all the steam
and bring us within our hold
for, we have a right to live every day.
Let's open the chiller door
make a drink and make up our mind,
sip the beauty and spread ourselves.
That's the way to peace and heaven,
that's the way to live with self.

9th Oct.2016