Life is so busy
Time rushes by in a blink- eyes shut for a moment- and you miss it
I breathe faster
My heart beating-thump, thump, thump
My lips move constantly
Spewing out bits of worthless information
Not food for my soul
No warmth for my heart
It is just time
Rushing, moving, sinking, ticking
I am so busy
And for what? I cannot say
I miss writing so much that I sit here with tears burning my eyes-right now
With no words to come out....yet I yearn to write
I long to write.....
So I do
Meaningless, harmless, frivolous words
and it feels so good
Letting them flow
To empty my mind
Not caring who reads them
grasping to this moment where I stop
I stop and I breathe
Slowly
My lips part- yet nothing is spoken
My canvas is blank- my moment is still
and I write
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Forest
The leaves crunch under her bare feet
Moist soil tickling between her toes
Sweet winged creatures buzzing in her ears
Alive
Majestic trees look down upon her
The moon peeking through the leaves
His sleepy eyes resting on her path
Flickering like candlelight in a room swallowed by twilight
Shadows dancing across the faces of the forest
Smiling and laughing
Frowning and brooding
Fear
The night sings his lullaby
Lugubrious voice of the wind
Enchanted fiddle of the crickets
Hooting hums escape from the graceful throats of the owls
The blinking stars tinker their tune across the midnight sky
Rejoice
Darkness wraps his lovely arms around her
She breathes
Mist nestles in her hair
Gleaming like diamonds atop black silk
Her skin aglow
She escapes what is naught to enter what is now
Beauty unattainable through the tender eye
Home
Moist soil tickling between her toes
Sweet winged creatures buzzing in her ears
Alive
Majestic trees look down upon her
The moon peeking through the leaves
His sleepy eyes resting on her path
Flickering like candlelight in a room swallowed by twilight
Shadows dancing across the faces of the forest
Smiling and laughing
Frowning and brooding
Fear
The night sings his lullaby
Lugubrious voice of the wind
Enchanted fiddle of the crickets
Hooting hums escape from the graceful throats of the owls
The blinking stars tinker their tune across the midnight sky
Rejoice
Darkness wraps his lovely arms around her
She breathes
Mist nestles in her hair
Gleaming like diamonds atop black silk
Her skin aglow
She escapes what is naught to enter what is now
Beauty unattainable through the tender eye
Home
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Searching
Underneath this dirty surface
I look for truth
I search for balance
yearn for freedom
I wake from this coma and you are still by my side
You are silent
My hands rip through the tension
My eyes burn through the tears
My arms hold a ghost
Transparent
You are not true to your heart
You suffer through the indulgence of untruths
Alone
You wait
Alone
I search
I seek refuge
I need guidance
I reach for the hands of God
I walk away
Still searching....
I look for truth
I search for balance
yearn for freedom
I wake from this coma and you are still by my side
You are silent
My hands rip through the tension
My eyes burn through the tears
My arms hold a ghost
Transparent
You are not true to your heart
You suffer through the indulgence of untruths
Alone
You wait
Alone
I search
I seek refuge
I need guidance
I reach for the hands of God
I walk away
Still searching....
Thursday, August 5, 2010
I CAN do this!
This is funny.
I like to look at author's blogs/websites.
Authors I admire and love- who inspire me on a daily basis.
I was reading tips from a writer.
Her tip is to write.
I think that's funny.
Because she is right.
It's so much harder than one thinks.
At least for me it is.
I stopped writing.
I knew it wouldn't last.
So I wrote today.
I stopped in the middle. Not understanding why I was getting upset.
And I realized as I was revising- that I just don't think I'm good enough.
But I'm not going to give up.
I'm going to keep writing.
That makes sense, doesn't it?
If you want to be a writer, you have to write!
I CAN DO THIS!
I like to look at author's blogs/websites.
Authors I admire and love- who inspire me on a daily basis.
I was reading tips from a writer.
Her tip is to write.
I think that's funny.
Because she is right.
It's so much harder than one thinks.
At least for me it is.
I stopped writing.
I knew it wouldn't last.
So I wrote today.
I stopped in the middle. Not understanding why I was getting upset.
And I realized as I was revising- that I just don't think I'm good enough.
But I'm not going to give up.
I'm going to keep writing.
That makes sense, doesn't it?
If you want to be a writer, you have to write!
I CAN DO THIS!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Tired
So I figured since this was a journey on my road to writing, I thought I would share something with you.
Since I have exactly 4 followers (still) and I have no idea if anyone is reading this blog, I don't have a clue if anyone has even noticed my lack of blogging recently.
In an effort to get past my self pity, I will go on to explain that I have been rejected for the first time.
Scratch that, my writing has been rejected.
Scratch that again, a poem of mine has been rejected.
This has been my fear all along.
My worry.
My "problem".
So here it is. It's happened. Now what?
Well, I think I'm taking it pretty well.
First, I read the letter several times.
Then, I got really angry.
I mean seething....foaming-at-the-mouth-angry.
How DARE you tell me my poem is not GOOD enough for what you're looking for.
(the letter said nothing of that sort, by the way)
Last, I cried.
I cried many tears.
In fact, I wailed.
I even did one of those stunts where I look at myself in the mirror....
all puffy eyed, blotchy red, and weary.....
thinking to myself......what are you doing? Who are you? What are you here for?
This is the worst part.
I stopped writing.
I didn't want to write.
To hell with writing.
That was my bottom.
But see, if you've been reading my poetry lately you'd know.
I'm already at the bottom.
So in all reality. I didn't move much.
Now what?
Seeing that I don't love being down here, I have to pull myself up.
Somehow.
Someday.
I need to get up!!
What do I need? One word- Four syllables.
Sim-plic-i-ty
That's it!
I want simplicity.
Simple food, simple conversation, simple life.
I don't know if this is possible.
But at this point, I can't even concentrate on my writing- my head is so jumbled with complicated mush!
I'm tired.....my body is tired....my head is tired......my heart is tired.
I'm reading a book right now (too cliche to do a review on)-
and someone in the book asks her "what is your word?"
What the hell?
There is no cotton-pickin-way I could give you ONE word to describe myself right now.
I especially couldn't give you a word that wouldn't sound suicidal at this point.
But after thinking about it.....I would love to......I yearn to......I need to.......have a word for myself!
Let's get back to simple.
This is my goal.....I'll let you know how it goes.
Since I have exactly 4 followers (still) and I have no idea if anyone is reading this blog, I don't have a clue if anyone has even noticed my lack of blogging recently.
In an effort to get past my self pity, I will go on to explain that I have been rejected for the first time.
Scratch that, my writing has been rejected.
Scratch that again, a poem of mine has been rejected.
This has been my fear all along.
My worry.
My "problem".
So here it is. It's happened. Now what?
Well, I think I'm taking it pretty well.
First, I read the letter several times.
Then, I got really angry.
I mean seething....foaming-at-the-mouth-angry.
How DARE you tell me my poem is not GOOD enough for what you're looking for.
(the letter said nothing of that sort, by the way)
Last, I cried.
I cried many tears.
In fact, I wailed.
I even did one of those stunts where I look at myself in the mirror....
all puffy eyed, blotchy red, and weary.....
thinking to myself......what are you doing? Who are you? What are you here for?
This is the worst part.
I stopped writing.
I didn't want to write.
To hell with writing.
That was my bottom.
But see, if you've been reading my poetry lately you'd know.
I'm already at the bottom.
So in all reality. I didn't move much.
Now what?
Seeing that I don't love being down here, I have to pull myself up.
Somehow.
Someday.
I need to get up!!
What do I need? One word- Four syllables.
Sim-plic-i-ty
That's it!
I want simplicity.
Simple food, simple conversation, simple life.
I don't know if this is possible.
But at this point, I can't even concentrate on my writing- my head is so jumbled with complicated mush!
I'm tired.....my body is tired....my head is tired......my heart is tired.
I'm reading a book right now (too cliche to do a review on)-
and someone in the book asks her "what is your word?"
What the hell?
There is no cotton-pickin-way I could give you ONE word to describe myself right now.
I especially couldn't give you a word that wouldn't sound suicidal at this point.
But after thinking about it.....I would love to......I yearn to......I need to.......have a word for myself!
Let's get back to simple.
This is my goal.....I'll let you know how it goes.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Hope
When your heart is drowning
And you sink low
To the depths of the unknown
You seek light
Sometimes
By the fate of something larger than your own existence
A nightlight shines
Brighter than a full moon in the arms of a starless night
And there is hope
Pulling you into her arms
Awakening your sleepy soul
Kissing your warm tears
You lift your head and your tired eyes open
To see the color of life
Awake
You stand
Brush the dust off your heavy heart
And you try to live again
You will make mistakes
You will take roads that lead you to the wrong places
You may even sink to the bottom again
There is always hope
And she will pick you up and cradle you
Hold you until you are ready to face your life once again
Her arms will lead you where you are supposed to be
Hope will always lead you back home
And you sink low
To the depths of the unknown
You seek light
Sometimes
By the fate of something larger than your own existence
A nightlight shines
Brighter than a full moon in the arms of a starless night
And there is hope
Pulling you into her arms
Awakening your sleepy soul
Kissing your warm tears
You lift your head and your tired eyes open
To see the color of life
Awake
You stand
Brush the dust off your heavy heart
And you try to live again
You will make mistakes
You will take roads that lead you to the wrong places
You may even sink to the bottom again
There is always hope
And she will pick you up and cradle you
Hold you until you are ready to face your life once again
Her arms will lead you where you are supposed to be
Hope will always lead you back home
Thank you, Isabel Wolff
As I wipe my eyes and close the book, I am reminded why reading is so sacred to me. Why I escape through the pages and get lost in the words.
I picked up A Vintage Affair and bought it solely for the yellow printed words on the front......"Read this if you're in need of a serious feel-good factor."-Daily Mail (U.K.)
Well, I was definitely in need of a feel-good factor.....so I bought it.
The author painted a historical picture like no other.
Her poetic words describe vintage clothing and the fabrics came alive as I read each word and pictured each piece of clothing as though it were hanging right in front of me.
The emotions of human nature come across in her characters and exude warmth, sadness, and friendship within your heart.
The unforgettable history of the Holocaust is embedded in your heart forever as she touches the surface of the suffering administered through such times.
As I read through blurry vision and reach for my tissues, I cry tears of new and of old as her words reach parts of my heart that remind me of my own past.
I don't know if this book will do the same for you....but it is sure to spark some awakening in your emotions.
I picked up A Vintage Affair and bought it solely for the yellow printed words on the front......"Read this if you're in need of a serious feel-good factor."-Daily Mail (U.K.)
Well, I was definitely in need of a feel-good factor.....so I bought it.
The author painted a historical picture like no other.
Her poetic words describe vintage clothing and the fabrics came alive as I read each word and pictured each piece of clothing as though it were hanging right in front of me.
The emotions of human nature come across in her characters and exude warmth, sadness, and friendship within your heart.
The unforgettable history of the Holocaust is embedded in your heart forever as she touches the surface of the suffering administered through such times.
As I read through blurry vision and reach for my tissues, I cry tears of new and of old as her words reach parts of my heart that remind me of my own past.
I don't know if this book will do the same for you....but it is sure to spark some awakening in your emotions.
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