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 Feb 2016 Katherine Dee
Sjr1000
I wish upon wishes
I wish all the
time

If wishes were horses
than beggars would ride
This is something we've known
for a
long long
time

But still I put
wishes on stars
and
go along
for the ride
whispering out to the great unknown
listening and wishing
for
another story untold

But
of all the wishes
I could bestow
I wish for that peace
we all
wish
to know.
If wishes were horses is a 16th Century English nursery rhyme
 Feb 2016 Katherine Dee
r
It's not the rain
that makes my eyes wet.
It hasn't rained in forty days.
Nights are long and quiet.
The silence cuts to bone.

It wasn't rain that quenched the fire.
It hasn't rained in forty nights.
The well is dry... so am I.
Nights I sit in silence
while it rains.

r ~ 4/19/14
have the words
to weave the magic carpets
that take us on virtual
trips to

heaven

or

*HELL*

you choose
Humans enjoy reading about
the bad before the good
sometimes

I'm going to be on the main site
for a while
I seem to have lost some
of my readership

That's okay
I'm here for the poetry
I don't participate in the gossip
and am distancing myself
from those who do

I have a core group of staunch supporters
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE
I thank God for you

♡ Catherine
She was an artist, a vangogh of modern times,
Illustrating her anguish and despair in red paint.
She was complex, drawing masterpieces from rhymes,
At the same time sketching on her arms till the red became faint.

The more she drew, the stronger her words became,
As the ink on her body became colorless.
She needed no recognition, no fame or name,
But at times her thoughts relapsed and her pen became powerless

The blade she held in her hands,
Contradicted the beauty she wrote in word.
She wrote of red roses, smiles and scenic lands,
But the more she wrote, the less she was heard.

The wounds contracted and reopened, incomprehensible,
Even if she's found other outlets.
Days and nights passed and her words became infinitesimal,
**Blood drenched the tiles, until her body ran out of it.
I would build her a garden,
where her beauty could bloom
I would build her a rocket,
and get her the moon

I would build her a vessel,
she could travel the land
I would build her a mansion,
where memories stand

I would build her an island,
somewhere she could escape
I would build her a new world,
any size or shape

I would build her any wish,
make a place of her own
so I built her paradise,
where I live alone
Once upon a midnight dream
to those who most need her gleam
comes an Angel, with no ill scheme
to fix your heart at the seam

When the darkness comes to fight
she appears, to be my light
for when my heart is filled with fright
she comes wielding pure delight

When I see her, no mistake
she has come to cure my ache
her touch is soft, I do not shake
she will stay till I awake

The dark fog tries to embrace
I stay calm; I see her face
protected by her flowing lace
she defeats it with her grace

The darkness stays buried deep
I no longer fear to sleep
no longer do I lay and weep
for its my heart, she will keep
As I lay on my bed,
listening
   to the rhythmic melody of the rain
  dancing                  my
                    outside                 window,
my
     mind
             wanders through my memories
             keeping me from the slumber
     I seek during these late hours.

why my mind favors
the sour memories
                                        of betrayal and heartbreak,
                                        of regret and guilt,
I will never understand.

their memories flooding my thoughts,
make rest a foreign concept.  

Do I dare speak their names
to break the silence that
imprisons me only to feel
my insides churn and
my heart ache?  

why do my dreams
                           gift me with
                                                        glimpse
­                                           of
                            the
            future
only
to be kept awake
by the past they've paved?  

why, when all I pursue is happiness,
do my thoughts poison me with sadness.

My dreams reveal what is to come
to my unconscious
                          but not to my conscious.  

My mind only lets me feel
the emotions of the future
                          but keeps from me
                                         what is to happen.
It lets me feel when good will follow
but keeps from me the heartache that
                                                            ­           ends it.



Why do my thoughts poison me so?



My thoughts let me fall


                                               for her
                                                            and trust her completely
                                                            when­ it was aware

                                               of the Betrayal
                                    that was to end
                                    that happiness?



why do my thoughts poison me so?



My thoughts urged me to leave her,

                                                     to feel like leaving
                                                     would help me
                                                     only
                                                                ­    to feel Regret
                                                                ­    with my decision,
                                           to feel like
                             I've made
             a mistake,
to be weighed down
with the guilt that I hurt her
and
for nothing
      but my
                   own
                              misery.  



why do my thoughts poison me so?  



I know not
            why my own mind
            is against me

            but in its campaign
            it has renamed


**Betrayal     &      Regret
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