That Night by the ocean
The waves sung me a lullaby
Of palm tree silhouettes
And tropical sunsets
Of singing waves
And gritty white sand
Of lemonade sipped on the shore
Of nocturnal ukuleles singing a melody
Of sandy flip-flops left on the sand
Of little ocean seashells
And ocean treasures beneath the waves
Of hibiscus blossoms in bloom
Of tropical fruits
Of salty breezes stirring my brown hair
Of tropical Nights
And on and on their lullaby went
And hushed me to sleep*

*~Marian~

I hope your heart will heal
To the song of my pedal harp
To roar of the mighty waterfall
Gushing down the rocky cliff
To the lullaby of waves mending your wings
To the flowers that waltz in the meadow
I picked one and put in your hair
I gave you a pair of wings
To fly very high
I gave you a beautiful harp
When the Fairies danced at Night
I danced with you
Beside the creek
Underneath the veil of moonlight
With its glowing rays dancing on the ground
Dear Poetess, heal thy heart
I will always be thy friend

*~Marian~

Daisies in hair, freckles in laugh,
Summer camp dandelions,
Bubbles in the air.
Cling like a koala to your back
So I can fight off the pirates
And the dinosaurs
And the giant squid
And my mother's meatloaf.
Where do teachers go at night?
Do they sleep in their classrooms?
This caterpillar is my new best friend.
But so is this firefly. But not that moth.
Roll down hill into mud puddles of chocolate goo.
Sing songs and jump on clouds like trampolines.
Mouth like an innocent firecracker; 3-2-1 blast off.
Kissed and tucked and loved into bed.
Dreaming of how good we're going to have it,
Not knowing that we already did.

When the color doesn't suit you, paint it.
When the gray wall doesn't inspire
Paint it a hue with golden sparkles.
When the sky is dark, close your eyes
Imagine streaks of sunshine shimmering
Through the happiest blue.
When your heart is stained black
Only you hold the palette and brush.
With each choice, stroke the gloom away
And paint in the joy.
If the world's colors are too bright
Throw buckets of mud on it
In order to heal the wounds.
For you are the artist of your reality.
If you don't like something,
Pick up a brush and paint it.

Look into my eyes,
and you'll see the seas that I've cried.
Look right into them
and see what's behind my smile of lies.
Look at the scars on my skin
behind each one is a story carved in
of each time I lost a battle
and gave in.
Are you looking deep enough to see me?
Hiding behind walls avoiding to be seen
running from the demons
from inside, that are chasing me.
Can you see my aching soul?
And the darkness that doesn't lessen but grows?
Can you see who I really am?
The one who's isolated, scared and alone.
Can you see into my eyes?
Past the tears I've cried and smiles that are lies?
Are you looking deep enough to see,
behind my round brown eyes,
my excruciating desire to end my life.

from 2501 miles away
dusk was plagued with silence.
bathing in solitude,
we sat together.

although seven states
lay between our sleepy limbs,
laughs rolled between yawns,
weary waves on a quiet coast.

few of your whispers spread
thin clouds coating gray skies,
but you were the sun.

and I found warmth mostly
in your soft laughter.
we tasted cigarettes that morning,
the breakfast of champions.

and the faint thought of you
tangled in my wrinkled sheets,
was enough to fill me up.

I thought the sweetest song
I might ever hear
would be the strum of your voice,

but maybe it was the
whisps of words I caught
when you sang and spoke
just under your breath.

I thought love would never
grab my aching limbs again,
but I let it carry me off
from 2501 miles away.

It's so easy to hang your head in shame,
To apologise without sincerity.
It's so easy to wither and crumple,
To let self loathing eat away at you like blight.
It's so easy to allow yourself to become nothing; something temporary.

Simplicity is a requirement,
we avoid all which attracts anarchy within us.
We do not anticipate accidents, we do not anticipate
those who clamber into our lives and shine
with individuality and complexion -
we fear those who possess difference.
It reminds us of what we lack,
or of what we are too afraid to expose to others.

And I fell in love with a rose, when I am merely a dandelion.
I write poems only to destroy them immediately;
endless words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.

I wither, I crumple.
I chose simplicity.