Poem a day, day 2*

It's all fun and games
Until someone loses a heart.
Take it from me.
Well, he did.

Great fun, good times
Next thing you know...
You turn around and
Someone's stolen your heart.

I only took my eyes
Off of it for a minute
And it was gone.
Possession is 9 tenths of the law.

The law of attraction.
I liked him,
I love him.
**** didn't see that coming.

Or maybe I did.
I couldn't have stopped it if I had.
Pickpocket skill level 100
Item: 1 heart.

Day 1 of a poem a day*

God created 'man' in his own image.
Is that why we feel compelled to
Create, invent, make
Things that were never there before?

Is this compulsion a God complex?
Or reflecting the nature of the Devine,
Or perhaps our own Divinity.
Because it's that big, no matter how small.

It's everywhere, in everyone.
Some people think they're not creative.
But creativity isn't just 'art'.
It's creating a building, a positive experience, anything you make.

Some people think they're not artistic.
When they've learned to suppress it.
Taught that it's not 'worthwhile'
Or comparing themselves to others.

It is in us to create.
When you express yourself you will create.
In whatever form that might be.
And it's beautiful... whatever form that might be.

Take time to smell the roses,
Take time out for yourself.
Take time... but time is not
Yours to hold on to.

Time slips by
Even if you could time travel
You still age
Your own time slips by.

Your only choice is now.
The only time you 'have' is not.
Make your choice now,
And remember, your next 'now' holds the consequences.

The maestro plays
And the puppet dances.
To do the maestro's bidding
Is his will.

The maestro plays
And the puppet dances.
The creation develops as
Creator watches.

The maestro plays
And the puppet mesmerizes.
Bringing the maestro
Along for the ride.

The puppet dances
And the maestro plays.
Creating to the rhythm
Of the puppet's moves.

The puppet dances
And the maestro plays.
As the creation
Creates the creator.

Isn't it fantastic,
What fantasies are made of?
Where the mind might wander
And lurk without discretion.

Fantastic flight of fancy,
We fancy to be reality.
but fantasies sit awkwardly in the real world.
Not quite fitting right.

The corners dig and poke at life.
Fantasy insisting on what isn't practical.
Fantasy requires; more time, more money, less commitment.
conflicting needs that can't work.

Reality insists on choices.
You can't work less and have more money.
You can't love two men
And have everyone happy.

Reality rubs at the sharp edges of fantasy.
Wearing it down with compromise
To fit into reality.
But the mind is limitless, able to conceive the fantastic.

Wouldn't it be fantastic?
Wouldn't it just.

"Stay away from mirrors"
A piece of advice not about evaluating my looks
But about getting out of my own head.
To stop naval gazing and look outwards.

Look outside of myself for what to write about
Things to say, starting lines.
So I'll steal a line "Stay away from mirrors"
More than just good advice.

"Write like you're talking to someone"
What would that look like?
Who do I talk to freely and naturally?
My Mum, my daughter, and my 'Secret Lesbian Lover'

Ok so you want wild, weird, crazy ramblings
Without the input of their side of the conversation?
If you say so...
Duck! This **** is going to get crazy!

Then edit... haven't I covered this before?
(Or did I just think about it)
My poems fall out of me then they're gone.
I can't seem to revisit them to complete or edit.

That is true to the idea of write like you're talking to someone.
I don't really edit when talking much.
I know I should, then I could say the right things.
I am too open, I doubt that will change at my age.

So should I manage to follow this advice
We can expect;
Wild, crazy ramblings which could be about anything.
Possibly made readable if I learn to edit.

I do hope I don't lose followers, this could get messy.