You're the closest thing
I'll ever have to love.
So, here's a little poetry
To brighten up your special day...
Beautiful as they are.
So, you'll have to promise me
That you'll always be yourself
No matter what
The world throws.
And one last thing,
Before my poem ends.
You should know
The luckiest bastard in the world,
To have you,
My dearest little birthday girl.
Why do we want to keep each other caged?
Why is it a norm for us to feel pain after a separation?
The only way to love you is to set you free. No. Not physically.
I set you free when the thought of you doesn't burden my heart.
I set you free when I understand that what we did was an act of love coated with our human needs.
I set you free when I leave out of love.
I set you free when I know that by leaving, I love myself and only by loving myself can I love you.
I set you free when I believe that you have freed me of you the day you first laid your eyes on me.
I set you free when I understand that freeing someone is letting go of our needs that we hang on to so effortly.
I set you free when you are no longer a need.
I set you free so I can be free.
Then I looked again at all the acts of oppression which were being done under the sun.
And behold I saw the tears of the oppressed and that they had no one to comfort them; and on the side of their oppressors was power, but they had no one to comfort them.
So I congratulated the dead who are already dead more than the living who are still living.
But better off than both of them is the one who has never existed, who has never seen the evil activity that is done under the sun.
how childhood felt
like a train ride
that never stops
like reading a book
with an infinite number of pages
But now you're 19-turning-twenty
and the train has finally
come to a stop
the tracks have changed its path
and you've reached the end
It's time to move on
move along and grow up
step off that train
and on to the next adventure
close that book
and start a new chapter
Be brave and brace yourself
for there is more to come
beginnings can be daunting
because it also means
saying goodbye to a life
you've lived and loved.
Nothing feels different
I'm just one year older, one year wiser
I still feel the rough texture of my soul
All the cracks, bumps, and soft spots
Looking at the horses and their strideful trots
I still get butterflies when I look at him
I say the first thing I think of on a wimb
I still like going to Dairy Queen with my dad
I like early morning cartoons,
and lazy Sunday afternoons.
I like to pet stray cats on the street,
And stop to pet every dog I meet.
I like to blow bubbles and dance in the rain
I burst out in laughter from excitement I cannot contain.
I sing in stores when I hear a song I like
And in Walmart I get on the little kid bikes.
Nothing feels different
I'm just one year older, not one year wiser.
I'm just five years old in my heart,
wish I could go back and restart.
Artifacts of childhood
Kept in your memories
feast, bash, captive sand tower
Bastille on every beach
Moveable, splendorous trausach'on
between frost covered wine cellers
and catacomb twigs.
Every sandbox you've
ever dug in - a keepsake found.
Stones and rocks of summer
Amphibian life - previously lost,
Every puddle frozen
The Earth hibernates
in a white cover of snow
No longer a child - your day!
Much more awakin to passing
of time; You - against your own impermonence.
by MBW or MBS or SP
My Dad was a unique person
too little understood.
I do not sing his praises
as often as I should.
This day I will remember
my Daddy as he was
holding me when I was little
tickling me, just because.
He would tell me not to worry
or have no fears, or tears.
He's in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days, or years
I won't think of him as gone away
his journey's just begun.
For life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.
I'll remember not his fight for breath
nor remember not the strife
I'll not dwell upon his death
but celebrate his life.
Today I celebrate his birthday.
He would be eighty~four.
Though a woman now of many years,
I'm still my Daddy's little girl.
i sit at the plastic table alone
my friends are asking a question
to the supervisor that watches
she says no so they
skip towards me
singing in cracked voices
they get the entire room to sing
and in their fabulously split awful voices
they chant the words
that make me smile
my cheeks flushed pink
my smile wide
my laughter loud