i was born
with a heart too big to fit
inside my chest
and a soul bigger than my body
so i have chosen
to leave pieces of my heart
in the places my feet have known
in the people i have loved
in the words i have read
in the beauty my eyes have seen
and my soul-
i have scattered it like seeds
and i have left parts of it
in songs,
in poetry,
in the laughter of children,
in the arms that have held me
and the hearts that have loved me

Ode to a Poet(writer)
I know you,
All alone
4am is when you feel most at home.
I feel you,
Blank page, full pen,
I see you,
Looking at a page waiting for a tale to unfold,
Behold!
When it starts, it flows,
I am you,
Hiding away, writing my pain,
Escaping reality,
Day to day,
We are art,
In the way we move,
We are the dreamer's and believer's
Pad and pen in hand til our dreams come true.
C. Tyler

. 
     Heart and soul pour forth
            an artesian spring
                    arising

                    set free
    through the conduit of poetry

brilliant constellations gleam adrift,
          soothened reflections
         float away unfettered,
              mirrored upon
       peaceful rivers sojourn

              downstream
             coursing afar

          conjured beyond
      the mesmerizing spell
of the outbound tides beckon

               unconfined
                swallowed
       by the scattering voice
           of the rising sea

               fomenting
       a comfortable silence
                 all at sea

         within ocean deep


                        someone you used to know 2017

The world is not yet awake.
I can hear my own heart throb in my chest.
I can hear air rush in and out of my lungs.
At 2am I can clear my head of everything that consumes it,
And remember to breathe,
And enjoy being alive,
At 2am.

.

    Memories
    are like
     footprints
        in the sand.

         They tell...
          In so many
          fragmented
          tales,
         where you
         came from.

        How far
       you've walked.
       How lightly
       you've trodden.
        And how hard
         you've dug
          your toes
            in deep.

             But...
             Unlike
              footprints,
            memories
           don't get
           washed away
            so easily
             by the tide.

.

Uncomfortable within this skin.
My joints complain
and muscles scream.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."

My mind in shambles.
Ideas incoherent
and thought processes
sluggish at best.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."

My emotions are in
total disarray.
I'm not happy
yet I'm not anything at all.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."

My insides twisting,
splitting.
Every grain and fibre
set on fire.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."

If this is normal,
I'm petrified with
the prospect of
what isn't.