"throuhg" poems
Music is
Pure exhilaration, inspiration, and ecstasy/
Uncontrollable drive and dedication
An uncontrollable but welcome smile/
A shot of adrenaline throuhg every vein/
The pulsation of an entire body
Every muscle fiber pulled taut by anticipation/
A crescendo of notes and chords fueling an emotional high
Butterflies, no- jetplanes in the listeners stomach/
Being headed from the lyrical content
Unification through the melting of souls
Rent apart by individual and intensely personal fetishes
Immortal...
Timeless.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
It was back in those days, the elementary school days,
when we were all friends, characters to one anothers plays of nonsense.
When we reigned over puddles with galoshes or brightly coloured gumboots.
When we wore capes and knew all the sing along songs.
And yes, I do recall, fondly so, that big park.
We were all there, whether in soul or in spirit,we explored the butterfly gardens, our parents and teachers were there too,
a school trip of sorts?
Just a vivid but fotgotten dream?
Who may answer these questions but ourselves by eventually succumbing to the universes natural way and forgetting the questions and finding and accepting the universes other answers.
The flowers of the light May day were in full bloom and that glass greenhouse, the one that intrigued me so, stood just like a castle.
After lunch, when the children were running throuhg green grass or wiping sticky hands from oranges upon the damper grass of the shade and while our parents and teachers sat on their coats dilly dallying, I stopped.
Stopped from my playing like a bunny caught in someones eyes. Was it a hand that grabbed mine or mine that reached out? Lead to a rivers edge, a little stream or pond. Ducking under willow and stepping over bushes and creeping through imagined dens of foxes or coyotes. My companion, my little friend, the face on the memory is blank, perhaps we had even more company.
We held hands.
We held hands like friends in our childhood innocence, before the concept of cooties, before the playground held terror. We sat hunched up by the pond poking sticks and reeds into the stream. Poking at the river flies and mud. Lost in a mystic realm of childhood unknowingness.
And then it caught me. A glimpse that magnified. The little water spider, gliding on the surface as though the surface were glass.
Oh water bug, from my bright eyes and blurred warm memeory you stood out to me. Majestically skating in the reflection of my face. As though you were that man mentioned in grandfathers stories from the book he said he beleived in, that man himself, walking on water. Such grace and beauty in you're perfectly casual stride, a quality I later noticed and looked for in people. Oh water bug, slipping your little bug fingers through glassy streams like a figure skater on an ice pond.
Do you remember me little bug? I was the one, the one with the little hands reaching out. I tried to hold your magic in my hands.
I was the one that in awe
reached out
But like a snap dragon,
in a blink, you were gone.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
Why does someone with a beautiful smile have an ugly heart ,why does someone with a beautiful smile have an ugly soul ,why does someone one with a beautiful smile want to give up on life and love,to just let life pass them by , you are so beautiful but so ugly to hurt the ones who love you the most , to take away the life God gave you because times are hard , every hard time is a test to prove that you can get throuhg anything, why does someone with a beautiful smile have to hold on to the anger and not forgive , why would someone with a beautiful smile not realies that a beautiful smile doesnt last forever.....
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC