Mar 26

Remembering You

What I remember of you is very little.
I was young when you passed.
I remember when you gave me,
a five year old,
four lollipops.
Your reasoning?
"two in each hand
so you don't lose balance 
and fall over"

I remember you at your husband's wake.
You cried over his casket
it was "the worst day of your life"
as you said.
It was soon forgotten.

I remember visiting you.
You offered us icecream and I felt
uncomfortable- but that's not your fault.
You didn't know that Grampy
wouldn't be coming home today.
You didn't know he'd been gone so long.
We let you live
in your ignorant bliss.

I remember that you didn't look the same,
you laid expressionless,
your face was too flat,
instead of round, plump, and smiling.
They had your hair just right,
blonde ringlets framing your face,
as you slept under the orchids.
Feb 05

For a Dear Friend

A Leaf flutters
before blowing
into the stream below.

A moment, serene;
loss yet freedom.

A small drop falls upon
her soft veiny surface.
A larger drop beneath her, 
it all falls.
Splash, crash, and one last flash
of light.

A Leaf flutters
before bending back
into the cold dark.
 
Oct 13

When Writing

When putting words on paper
Becomes like trying to squeeze out
That last dollop of toothpaste.
When getting inspired
Becomes traveling through youtube
For countless hours.
When you find yourself
Crossing out paragraph after paragraph,
But you continue.

It’s what makes a writer a writer,
Pressing your pen to the page
When there is nothing to say,
And finding it.

Don’t ever think you are out,
This well does not run dry.
There will always be a new idea,
There will always be a road to it.
This is not the period at the end of your sentence,
But nobody said that this would be easy.
Oct 08

"Why Write?"

"Why write?"
you say. 

I have a simple response,
"to live."

I write like most people breathe,
I inhale life and exhale ink.

I need to see my thoughts on paper
before I can believe they are real
and true.
My journal is the where, how, and why
of my everything.
If it hasn't been written,
it can't be mine.

This is my existance,
I can live no life without that precious
pen shaped indent in my finger.
 
Oct 08

My Last Year

"Try to make a few last-minute memories"
I tell myself,
before I let go of my friends, sister, family.
Each memory must be perfect,
to keep me moving forward, 
whenever I look back.

I have to remember all the little things,
my dog's fur between my fingers,
the smell of all my old books,
a flute ringing through the air.

I wrap it all up now,
before I lose myself in preparation,
before home becomes a place I visit.
Sep 24

Thankful

I'm thankful,
for a home, 
for love,
for warmth.

We often overlook it,
we forget that the things around us,
the things that we call necessities,
not everyone has.

Many people,
those on the opposite side
of the planet,
or the opposite side of the street,
don't have these necessities.

Alone and shivering,
their cracked skin yearns for touch,
their eyes, to be looked into.
Their chapped lips haven't
uttered the words
"I'm home" 
in far too long.

So please,
be thankful for what you have,
and be compassionate towards
those who have nothing.
 
Aug 20

Dear Charlotte

Dear Charlotte,
I heard
we all did and I hope you're okay.
I know you aren't 
you can't be
not after all that's happened.

Dear Charlotte,
I offer my shoulder to cry on
and I'll cry with you,
because this should be over and long past
but I guess equality is eternally fought for.

Dear Charlotte,
please remember that you're one of us
and we stand by you.
We stand by you when men with
fire in their eyes, in their hands, and on their tongues
declare that they want their freedom,
but what they really want is free reign.

Dear Charlotte,
we want the freedom to live
not the freedom to hate.
 
Jun 23

Endings are Always Bittersweet

Because on one hand,
whatever you have finished
was probably really taxing,
and you have been
looking forward to completion
for a while now.

But, on the other hand,
it's over,
and you can't stop it from being over,
and you surely can't go back in time and experience it all again,
so now you just have to sit 
in your memories
as they slowly evaporate and fade from view.

Eventually, you will learn to move on
to the next phase of your life,
afterall, you still have so much life to live,
so don't waste it on the past.
Stop looking forward to completion.
Start looking forward to beginnings.
 
Jun 19
poem 2 comments challenge: Moment

How?

How is it
that we are all so different?
None of us are exactly the same, 
not to anyone present or past.
There are billions of us 
all stuck on this little planet 
in the midst of billions of other planets
that are somehow all different as well.

Is the universe really this creative,
this skilled?
Can the universe really come up with all this,
and not still up once?
There must be something more.
May 26
poem 4 comments challenge: I Wonder

The Sun and the Earth

I wonder if the Sun rotates
or if it stands still,
holding us all in balance.

Does it turn,
watching us constantly?
We are the perfect creation,
the pearl of the universe,
we are life.

Or is the Sun unaware of our magnificence?
Does it know that it has been fueling us all this time?
Because while we are it's life,
it is ours.

I wonder if our Sun takes pride,
that among all the stars,
only it holds life.

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