Maybe we all feel sorrow stronger than any other feeling
And that is why we all write about it
Because there are so many ways to describe pain
And we struggle to find the words to speak of the joy we can feel
So we simply feel it
And that is why we don't write happy

I'm so terrified
But I wanna be different
Reckless and happy
Staring at the stars
Open bottle beside me
But I'm worried
And concerned
And there's nothing I can do

"Go Slow", I told my life in January
"I want to take this journey at your pace"
"I want to build those bridges again"
"I want to complete you as I would always want"

"Hello!” I heard a call from the near far.  
Was it really a response from the healing heart of February?!
"I hold the right to set your pace"
"I hold the right to bless you sleeps"
“I hold the right to curse you sleeplessness"
“I decide the right for you in everything"

Until the obscene April summer turned up,
It was not life; but the Cyclone’s desire to fell everything en route.
I learned; there might be things to cherish
But would not want to own again

Rains in Kerala carry the rhythms of life
I once again made those paper boats
At my pace, as the 10 year old,
And as July demanded
Life grew deeper within, in that rhythm of rains
Nursing the one who nursed me for long
I learned, there are only cycles in life,
There is only movement in life

The flight took off, despite the pedantic reasons thrown over the tarmac
In that morgue of frozen mummies, I felt the futility of expectations
My Wings of fantasies halted, on top of the panoramic Great Wall
In the arc lights of award night, I enjoyed the pleasure of losing
Walking alone the Washington streets, I found the walks of life...

November comes concealing a lot; it conceive sorrows
It grows a detached attachment within and around you
November reinforces the relativity in everything
Life, love, respect, trust and confidence

I like the reds in December, it's flamboyance
I like the irony of "hope" brought in by this very end!
There are only cycles in life, no gains or losses
There is only movement in life, some forward
And some stuck in the maze and not knowing which way.

Created by perfection,
Not from without but with great intention,
Physically,you're flawless.
From your toes to your face,
Upto the longest strand of your hair,
Believing this may be a great dare,
But its true,
Its true that the flaws flow from within you,
Not your body,physique or biological make up but the mind,
And to this notion;most of us are blind.
Accepting and loving yourself the way you are,
Makes you shine flawlessly like a star.

You dont even deserve to have my name escape from your lips.

Is there anything more wonderful
Then being part of the poet’s corner?
Lucky am I to be a poetry lover!
A romance novelist used poetry to ponder
A story that changes and transforms
One’s heart.  Is there anything more wonderful?
Joining a poetry site, I blundered
My way to writing a poem, oh what torture!
But lucky am I to be a poetry lover.
Many offered their support, allowing me to discover
My path and slowly my writing became stronger.
Is there anything more wonderful?
So many inspired awe and wonder,
Giving me strength to claim my own corner,
Justifying my becoming a poetry lover.
To those who offered encouragement so tender
I offer my thanks and give honor.
Is there anything more wonderful
Than becoming a poetry lover?*

Kelly Rose
December 29, 2015