Your words keeps
me thinking.
I can feel every line
I'm reading.
Sometimes I hold
my breath so appealing.
When you can write
straight to someone's soul
and find your heart
is beating faster.
So fragile like
nothing else matters.
This feeling is what
I get when it's you
I'm reading.

is a strange emotion
you get caught up in the motion,
thoughts that give you the strong notion
others are more blessed than you
in what they have and what they do
and so jealousy ensues.

I'm an amateur and I know it
I have no background as a poet
I have no sheepskin. No degree.
No tenures. University.
I'm just here to simply state
I don't rank there with the greats.

When I see the stats of other folks
I don't poke fun and make rude jokes.
Yes. My heart, it sometimes breaks
Do I have the art it takes?
It sometimes makes me sad and blue
I would like to be like you...
but honesty is my ego's salve
it takes time I do not have
I'm happy with the things I've done
I am here to have some fun!
I'm also here to be inspired
Your poetry makes my level higher!

This goes out to loving peers...
thank you all for being here!


♡ Catherine

When i was young, i was very fond of reading stories of different kind. Be it a fairytale where i could be a princess who would soon meet her handsome prince. An anecdote of some legendary ****** who saved her town from a monster.

My books were full of pictures, colorful and in peculiar shapes. But when i grew older, books became thicker and less entertaining for me. The images i am used to seeing in each page disappeared in every turn. As i grew taller, the fonts in my books grew smaller.

I lost the joy of reading.
Slowly, it fades.

But then i met you.
And reading becomes my hobby again.
But it is different with you.
I came to love those complicated, hieroglyphics-almost codes that made up your personality.
I love how unpredictable you are. Like i'm reading a tragedy but in the end, turned out to be a comedy, or a sweet love story.
Nevertheless, everything you say and do, you never cease to amaze me.


I came to love reading...
You.

Reading has always been my escape, my consolation. So I have come to the conclusion that if I were to be unfocused by the words that are written between the pages, then something in my life has gone amiss. That in itself tells me that I cannot continue to read this book until the problem has at least become bearable, because one cannot escape reality if it is pulling you in at the strongest it can go.

All these books to read

and all these songs to sing

but all I can think about

are these empty pages

and how my hand would look better

with a glass of whiskey.

she added little lights to the corners
so she could see
she was in springtime
as the lilies and asters in the breeze
green grasses and tea leaves
welcomed the night in warmth

Oh how I love to sit,
drink tea and to a book commit.
To be taken into a beguiling imaginary place,
where anything is possible if only we embrace.
A true escapism from all of life's horrors,
we become the character's explorers.
It can be a despondent journey across the pages,
as I continually ponder what my life has become for ages.
I realise all the characters that I will never be;
recognise the adventures I alone will never see.
Although, it can be a beautiful experience if we read between the lines;
because we discover who we really are and build on virtues as we read the signs.

I come alive
when I silence my voice
and drink your words through my eyes.

I come alive
sitting beside the window pane
hearing the pitter-patter of the soft rain.

I come alive
in the steam of the tea
encircling me like a dragon's smoke wreath.

I come alive
in the still of the room
unprovoked, unperturbed, pleasantly alone.

I come alive
deceptively physically dormant
but inside my mind, a bombination; restless incantation.

I come alive
the voices of time as my celestial guide
the paths innumerate; infinite possibilities.

Reading readily rewrites my
reactions --
results in wondering what is right and
what
isn't