Tag Archives: poetry

Taper

A candle is lit

In a solitary, dark room

Full of

Paper bag memories

Wrinkled and strewn about

Smoke fills the air

Suffocating high hopes

And possibilities

To start anew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Close your eyes

And hide in the darkness

Of corners that the candle

Flame barely illuminates

And slowly breathe in

The poetry of lost promises

As the candle burns

Leisurely into oblivion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wave goodbye

As you drift into

The darkness

Of black and white memories

That have since been lost

In the candle smoke…

~ found poetry

A woman participates in a candlelight vigil in support of women safety in Mumbai

I’ll Meet You There

I love to sit in silence
beneath the shady trees
and listen to the song of birds
and to the buzz of bees.

I love to sit in silence
and watch the Clouds roll by
then read a book or sing a song
and hear the wild bird cry.

I love to sit in silence
when the day is almost done
and see behind the distant hill
the paint glow of the sun.

I love to sit in silence
in the evening twilight
and listen to the whippor-will
singing with all its might

I love to sit in silence
beneath the Starry sky
and pray to all in earnest
to live in silence all the while.

-via Goodreads

last night

Finding The One Later In Life

The Mystery

Having met you later in life,
there are no memories of
young romantic love,
high school roller skating parties,
college weekdays longing for your touch.

No memories of experiencing together
life’s first tastes of freedom
or the innocence of believing that
we had all the time in the world.

I never knew your young body nor you mine;
those days when I looked radiant in the morning.

When life finally brought us together
We stood before each other
In the stark reality of all we had become.
Too mature to hide
Yet secretly wondering
If the other would stay
And if love was worth the trouble
After all this time.

Piece by piece
We removed the layers of life
Shedding off what no longer served us
Until we discovered a place deep inside,
Beyond judgment, expectation,
Or what anyone else thought

Where we found only pure light.

Smiling, we instinctively knew
We had everything we needed
For the rest of the journey.

Now
With you by my side
I can see the light in your eyes
Reminding me
Of who we really are.

Forgiveness has never been so easy
And love so real.

Having met you later in life,
The knowledge that our time here is limited
Grows stronger with each passing moment.

Instead of running,
I pause and breathe.
Hold your gaze.
Feel your energy.
And open my heart to the mystery of life.

Author: Christy Sperrazza

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Opaque

Some say I’m the quiet type
usually not the life of the party

I’d much rather stay home and
sip on a bottle of pineapple Bacardi

Reflect on life
and all of its meaning

Cook, listen to music
and spend all night dreaming

of what the future looks like
contemplate the afterlife

Don’t need to live rife
or excessively abundant

Don’t mean to sound redundant

Don’t need many friends
not quite sure how to trust

Hard to let down my guard
hard to adjust

my mind to the fact that
people don’t always act

with your best interest in mind
Will have you resigned

thinking they’ve left you behind
might have turned a blind eye

to all that you’ve given
over time

I won’t go into that deeper
probably because

I’m a peacekeeper
doesn’t mean I’m fragile

especially not a pushover

Doesn’t mean I’m a doormat
or someone you can get over

or disrespect in any way
shape or form

I’m out of the norm
don’t usually conform

to the thoughts and ideas
you might have of me

See

a girl like me
always knows

but doesn’t always show
or really disclose

how she feels

I’m like the calm before the storm
I like to keep the peace

but don’t think
you can get by with a wink

and a smile
Because after a while

I’ll put you on trial
and question your lifestyle

So even though
I’m the quiet type

I’m an original
not a prototype

Won’t stick to stereotypes
won’t fall for the hype

I’m just me
and I’ll continue to be

on this quiet path of happiness
where my spirit is completely free…

~Author: Carrie King

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Arid

There is an arid Pleasure—
As different from Joy—
As Frost is different from Dew—
Like element—are they—

Yet one—rejoices Flowers—
And one—the Flowers abhor—
The finest Honey—curdled—
Is worthless—to the Bee—

—————————

Rather arid delight
If Contentment accrue
Make an abstemious Ecstasy
Not so good as joy—

But Rapture’s Expense
Must not be incurred
With a tomorrow knocking
And the Rent unpaid—

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

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Clean

Oh, I can’t wait for Spring to be here

So, I can clean my house again

Sort out the mess in the attic

Clear the garage

Tidy up the garden

There’s a lot to be done

Like washing up the window panes

Hose the drive way power clean the roof

Remove the dead leaves from the gutter

But the Winter is here to linger for another few weeks

I guess I have to sit and wait 

Learn the art of Patience.

 

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“As I Began to Love Myself”

As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional suffering
are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth. Today, I know, this is “AUTHENTICITY”.

As I began to love myself I understood how much it can offend somebody
As I try to force my desires on this person, even though I knew the time
was not right and the person was not ready for it, and even though this
person was me. Today I call it “RESPECT”.

As I began to love myself I stopped craving for a different life,
and I could see that everything that surrounded me was inviting me to grow.
Today I call it “MATURITY”.

As I began to love myself I understood that at any circumstance,
I am in the right place at the right time, and everything happens
at the exactly right moment. So I could be calm.
Today I call it “SELF-CONFIDENCE”.

As I began to love myself I quit stealing my own time,
and I stopped designing huge projects for the future.
Today, I only do what brings me joy and happiness, things I love to do
and that make my heart cheer, and I do them in my own way and in
my own rhythm. Today I call it “SIMPLICITY”.

As I began to love myself I freed myself of anything that is no good for
my health – food, people, things, situations, and everything that drew
me down and away from myself. At first I called this attitude
a healthy egoism. Today I know it is “LOVE OF ONESELF”.

As I began to love myself I quit trying to always be right, and ever since
I was wrong less of the time. Today I discovered that is “MODESTY”.

As I began to love myself I refused to go on living in the past and worry
about the future. Now, I only live for the moment, where everything
is happening. Today I live each day, day by day, and I call it “FULFILLMENT”.

As I began to love myself I recognized that my mind can disturb me
and it can make me sick. But As I connected it to my heart, my
mind became a valuable ally. Today I call this
connection “WISDOM OF THE HEART”.

We no longer need to fear arguments, confrontations or any kind of problems
with ourselves or others. Even stars collide, and out of their crashing
new worlds are born. Today I know THAT IS “LIFE”!

~ by Charlie Chaplin

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Float

That’s what we do everyday isn’t it?

Try not to sink to the bottom, keep swimming stay afloat, stay alive survive.

Paddle, paddle, paddle.

Reach the shore in one piece at the end of the day and tomorrow do it all over again till we can’t swim or paddle no more.

Hurry up, hurry up!

No time to admire the view.

Unless it’s time for you to sink, then suddenly you have all the time in the world.

Ample time to enjoy the scenery while drowning.

Take it all in.

Everything you’ve missed while paddling, is laid out before you while you’re taking your last breath.

Then all of a sudden everybody cares.

Everyone has a good word to say about you when you’re dying.

Life is a struggle from birth to grave.

Time is infinite but our time is limited.

It will be over before you know what’s happening.

Stay afloat, swim, paddle but don’t forget to stop in the middle and smell the roses.

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Pillage

When the world will come to a halt
And words will be frozen within
Feelings halted in dark corridors
Emotions buried in piles of debris
World will be shocked to react
Humanity will be jolted to numbness
These idiosyncrasies’ will have no effect
No philosophy will be able to decipher
World will be shown the truth and futility
So much hurt, pain, wars and bloodshed
World will be scarred beyond recognition
As we hide behind political correctness
We have already marginalized humanity
From the deepest cosmic philosophies
We may have erred many times and still do
Lest we find ourselves orphaned one day
This abode will not be our shelter anymore
Left deserted, emptiness will reverberate
Opportunity lost, we have plundered it
Not much of a path is left for tired limbs
Our journey of futility and exasperation
Disconnected from the cosmic bonds
World will be a standstill, and time frozen

-Standstill by Amitav Radiance

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A Christmas Story

Up and down the streets she ran
With black satin sack in hand.
Filled with sharp knives
She planned to end lives.

From house to house she crept so quietly
Looking almost, no, indeed shadowy.
But she was not alone with her sack
There was something riding on her back.

Green eyes gleamed riding through the night
Glaring around so full of spite.

“Who are you?”
A man’s voice asked
“You don’t know? I am not masked.”

“Get out of here! What do you think you’re doing??”
“Out of here? I think not. You are the one I’ve been pursuing!”
“Pursuing? You’re nuts! Get the fuck outta here!”

“Right now I can feel your fear!”
“Ha! That’s rich. I’m not scared”
“Like I even really cared”
“That’s it, I’m calling the police. They’ll have you pinned.”

The shadowy girl just grinned.
The man went for the phone
In one second he hit the floor with a moan.

Those green eyes glared down
“Ha! What a clown”
What a sweet voice.
The man looked up at those eyes
“Time to say your goodbyes”
With one swift move of a vase that man was gone.

“This isn’t so hard now is it?”
The shadow shook his head
The blood flowed red
“We have a long night ahead.”
He kicked the pieces of vase
“Yes, I know, Sweet face.”

With that the shadows did flee
That man didn’t even get a chance to plea.
Hours passed
This town sure was vast.
They went tapping down the road
Carrying the sharp load.

“Let’s go home now, honey.”
She huffed. 
“Quickly now, before it gets sunny!”
Up the stone pathway she ran
At the door they gave the town a brief scan
“I’m dreaming of a red Christmas.”

She turned the handle of the door
“This time of year is always such a chore!”
He sighed as he hopped from her back
She tossed down her big black sack.

He swept the dirt from his clothes
“The living should thank us”

She brushed her hair
“Those we killed were too much to bear”

She hopped up on the windowsill
“They made me positively ill”

She stared out into space
“And…back to my loving place”
She turned to her evil little doll
He leaned on the wall.

“Wanna open presents now?”
He smiled
“My goodness, child”
He laughed quietly under his breath
“What a quick transition from the subject of death!”

~Disclaimer: Though I found this piece among my old documents I doubt if it is mine. I am not this wicked 😉

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Daily Prompt

Relax

Bad things are going to happen.
Your tomatoes will grow a fungus
and your cat will get run over.
Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream
melting in the car and throw
your blue cashmere sweater in the drier.
Your husband will sleep
with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling
out of her blouse. Or your wife
will remember she’s a lesbian
and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat–
the one you never really liked–will contract a disease
that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth
every four hours. Your parents will die.
No matter how many vitamins you take,
how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys,
your hair and your memory. If your daughter
doesn’t plug her heart
into every live socket she passes,
you’ll come home to find your son has emptied
the refrigerator, dragged it to the curb,
and called the used appliance store for a pick up–drug money.
There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger.
When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine
and climbs half way down. But there’s also a tiger below.
And two mice–one white, one black–scurry out
and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point
she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice.
She looks up, down, at the mice.
Then she eats the strawberry.
So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse
in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat,
slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel
and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely.
Oh taste how sweet and tart
the red juice is, how the tiny seeds
crunch between your teeth.

-Ellen Bass

insomnia

daily prompt