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A cold wind blows into my soul
like a ghost dances
to the beat of a heart that's been broken
by the promise of words.  
Until, there is no more time left to ache
for what has not fallen
from the air you breathe
to be seen or heard.

Your silence speaks inside of me,
calling out to be tears
selfishly chaining this cold wind
inside of my soul,
to remain.  
All that I love has been painted
by the promise.................
of your words,
and the sweetest sound I know
is your voice
caressing my name.
Copyright ©2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
 Mar 2014 James Jarrett
T
Untitled
 Mar 2014 James Jarrett
T
Push another button
I dare you
I'll be gone before you can mock me
for leaving.
But I'll probably stay
long enough to make it harder to leave,
And still walk away,
Forgetting to breathe.
But I remember to keep
An easy stride
so easy your pride
might not survive.

I doubt you and I
don't trust you and I
don't think you are real.
You are crazier than me:
You soak in my zeal
Run your thumb along my greatest appeal
explore the cloaked
cliffs and  plateaus, and yet
feel no love towards me.

I am too weak
To stand tall and reek
of eagerness to speak
with no constraints.
I bare my greatest pains        
to enslaved brains
that manipulate to gain
something that flows freely
from me.

At the throw of a stone,
I'll walk alone.
I'll fall and crawl and bawl alone
But I refuse to throw another bone
your way.
I might confuse again your joyfulness
as mine
and accidentally stay.

Push another button
I dare you
But I know you won't
make it so simple.
You'll plead when I run but
Still bleed as I burn
everything on my shelf
to sterilize the needle
needed to sew your brittle ego.
I weave a steady thread
of lies and secrets and hope and dread
over and under.
You won't stop bleeding
As if to say " See? You can't help me, either!".

At least I tried.
You've clutched your lies and secrets
hope and dread.
Good for you, you have held onto
your head.
Mine flips 5 times a day. ​
From what
I have experienced;
whiskey is thicker
than blood.
 Mar 2014 James Jarrett
Diane
Meow
 Mar 2014 James Jarrett
Diane
Two cats were we, tangled together in the sunlight
drowsing in awareness of peace
and its war rising, with the proximity of our bodies
 Mar 2014 James Jarrett
Diane
I would not trade one year of my life.
Not those requiring great caverns of energy
simply to rise and meet the day
nor those from which pain has burrowed
deeply in the delicate fiber of my psyche.
For every decision by me and others, each
grouping of words that have passed between mouths
every face that has touched or met my gaze
have left tiny autographs for me to read and interpret.
And I like who I have become,
observation, trial, success and error
all training my intuition,
I see her and trust her with implicit acceptance!
Guided by glory alive in sun and soil
knowing thyself is my greatest feat
I create my own creed with which to live by
a truth that is mine, and mine alone
no one can steal it, but contribute quietly
my teachers come in many forms
surrounding me in ways only I can understand
For I will live true to my genuine self!
recognize my gifts and use them for good
have intimate, meaningful and loving relationships
value human beings and bestow demonstration
learn always, my mind remained open
develop my character with un-tethered honesty
impact humanity in positive ways
embracing the present, in fullness and experience
because there is beauty every way we turn.
That I am alive in this moment is greatness
and wisdom begins with this realization.

“Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it,
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.”  --Walt Whitman
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