Quisha: Favorites

Jun 2014 Quisha

Deneka Raquel

I am not a writer.
I am not good with words,
I cannot speak up for myself,
It is my pen that bleed words.
No amount of convincing can give me conviction.
No amount of clarification can make that distinction.
Please refrain from using titles.

I am not a writer.
I am just a dreamer,
Dreaming dreams of inverted galaxies
Where complexities are reduced to simplicity,
And maybe love wouldn't be so complicated.
I dream of a world where I'll be unchained and liberated,
Because currently freedom is hard to go by.

I am not a writer.
I am just another over thinker,
I stay up all night disassembling the world,
So I can put it back together.
Adding new features that I think will make it better
I get lost in thoughts, and day-mares, fantasies and others,
I obsess and I always suffer.

I am not a writer.
Though sometimes I am photographer,
Snapping,
Close ups and selfies of my terrible mind.
Giving glints of places you won't usually find,
All because I write sometimes.

I just express my emotions is what I'm trying to say. This poems sounds like I'm rambling..

#writer #dreamer #thinker #photographer

Jun 2014 Quisha

How Does My Good Luck Grow?

Jun 2014 Quisha

William A Poppen

How Does My Good Luck Grow?

I sit here and wonder
how does my good luck grow
soft and slowly around me?

I don't recall planting
a luck seed in the moist dirt
of a slip *** weathered with age.

My siblings feel battle fallout
from Zeus and Hades
hurling nearby bolts of catastrophe.

Mishap, misadventure, and calamity
do you lurk around the next bend
as I tread on a fair weather journey?

Life is unfair.
Brother and sister meek, what do you
inherit, the earth or misfortune?

I sit here and wonder
how does my good luck grow
soft and slowly around me?

A question without an answer.

#good #luck

Jun 2014 Quisha

Friend

Jun 2014 Quisha

CC

Friend

Dear friend
The emptiness
can be filled
However friend
Do not rely on others to fill it
They will come with overnight bags full of warmth ,promises and friendship
A promise is comfort to a fool
And friend
You are no fool
Other will come too
But not with warmth , promises and friendship
They will come armed with their cold hearts , their worn out weapons splattered with the tears,hopelessness of their of other victims
Their weapons will be concealed in their eyes , their movement ,their tongue
They will attempt to **** the little self worth that remains deep in side you
So friend do not let them in
Do not allow them to unload their weapons of mass destruction upon your emptiness
That friend will only bore a hole further inside you

Dear friend
The emptiness you feel can be filled
Will be filled with guidance from the Divine
Not people

#hurt #friend #strength #i #me #comfort #emptiness

Jun 2014 Quisha

Don't Waste Me.

Jun 2014 Quisha

Dolores L Day

Don't Waste Me.

Dear man that I will meet
Capable of lifting me off my feet.

Who is fortunate enough to take my hand
And whisk me off to an uncharted land.

Don't you waste it.

The moment our lips meet
Must be something utterly sweet
to behold.

So don't you waste it.

Years lying in bed
Waiting for the words that have never been said:
"How I love you."

All of the waiting and stress
Leaves something to detest
I am wasting away

So don't waste anymore.

I daydream of (B)ryan
of Eddie
of Ben
Too many flow charts I've scribbled in pen.

I've been waiting for you
To come, clad in Blue
And kiss me.

Dear man, you'd better run
My patience cannot be refund- ed.

While I fret of a wrong choice
All I want is your voice
To whisper of my glory.
And begin my story.

Of love.

So don't you waste it.
Don't you dare waste me.

I have a lot of time on my hands...

#love #fear #lonely #waiting #maturity

Jun 2014 Quisha

Is It Enough?

Jun 2014 Quisha

Ofentse Tsie

Is It Enough?

All the months we spent together, was it all a lie?
I sometimes wonder who's doing it wrong between you and myself, but then again

I somehow feel like I will never get the accurate answer.
You was all that mattered, although it wasn't easy to show it off to you, but still.

I miss you, the old you, before pain changed you. The unspoken regret, and hiding of secrets is what made us go separate ways.
All we ever do is fight, how does that make it up for us?

Is this the new true love? I doubt.
Maybe, if we go back to the chess board, and identify the pawns that are dragging us down, and stopping us grow growing that's when we will be enough for one another.