Jun 22

Beneath my fingers

Jun 22

if i looked closer

clouds chase and shift after each other,
streaks of mauve and porcelain,
breezing along the icy blue sky.
peaks rose before them,
like a sandcastles yet to be molded
by a child who had long left to play the tides.
awkward and stoic in their placement,
the dented curves and cornered edges
a silent tribute to the test of time.

and, if i stepped closer
perhaps i’d witness the haggard summit and 
the infinite memories sliced away by storms.
Jan 24

forever young

forever young.
dandelions, feathers,
floating in the sky,
look up, sir,
we’re going high

forever young.
treated like children,
expected to be adults,
you’ve lived your life,
now let us live ours

forever young.
and we care about friends,
so what?
and we wanna have fun,
so what?

forever young.
blame us for drugs,
mock the drunk,
“get yourself together”,
well you never did.

forever young.
moody? no.
angry? never.
disappointed? yes.
stressed? always.

forever young
riots, mobs, protests,
danger, ire, rage,
bands, beer, parties
connotations, assumptions.

forever young.
wrote in your texts,
in your book,
flip the page,
just take a look

forever young.
rowdy teens, yes?
pointless, idiotic, yes?
maybe we’ve got something to say,
Jan 16


Yes, I see the sun. Nice.
No, I don’t feel its warmth.
Yes, I sense the wind. Cool.
No, I don’t take pleasure in the breeze.
Yes, I can see the view. Pretty.
No, I’m not delighted.

The green meadows and creaking swing,
they feel so fake,
someone else’s dream.
Where’s mine?

I can see the smiles people give me,
laugh at the messages from friends,
hum along to some music,
joke with my family.

A brief moment of happiness,
a bright shooting star.
Gone in an instant,
swallowed again by the unyielding darkness.

They don’t protect me from the ghost in my head,
drive off the clouds pouring tears of depression,
get rid of this thing draining the life out of me.

I’m so, so tired.
Of myself,
of the world,
of life.

I wish I could tell someone,
express myself.
Those counselors wearing bright smiles,
Dec 30
poem, humor challenge: Goodbye 2020

A New Year- a Tiny Writes Conversation

This is inspired by Treblemaker's post "Boop. A Tiny Writes Conversation". Also, I'm sorry for changing a little bit of the wording from the original text on Tiny Writes. I had to make it more "poetic".

A little "poem" of rhyming created on Tiny Writes as a "Goodbye!" to 2020:

It's almost the end of this horrific year!
I think this calls for lots of cheer!
Hurray! A new beginning is almost near,
let's jump into it without any fear!

Lot's of laughter – can't you hear?
And many smiles, not one tear!
Let all the misfortune disappear,
give a toast and raise your glass of beer!

Written by Roses, Treblemaker, Moonsand, Crescent_Moon, dogpoet and Mysticat.
Dec 23
poem challenge: 'Twas ...

'Twas the night before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas,
the height of holiday cheer,
spreading through paths of isthmus,
announcing the time of year.

People are bustling,
buying last-minute presents,
the children are a-hustling,
scaring all of the pheasants.

Red ribbons are strung high,
colors of newly blossomed heaths,
stark against the grey sky,
reflected by ornament wreaths.

Candles of warmth lit aflame,
placed above crackling hearth embers,
pictures leaning on their frame,
coming and going with all the Decembers.

Giggling children write their letters,
to a jolly old man, tonight,
asking for toys and a sweater,
or maybe a brave wooden knight.

Then all the parents will come in,
hang their coats on the wooden rack,
take off boots covering the shin,
placing them all in a stack.

Tuck their children in their beds,
whisper softly a “goodnight”.
Dec 17

The Seconds, They Tick By

Finally found the time to write a few Christmas poems XD. School applications are stressful.

It’s Christmas,
who would’ve known?
It’s been a year,
I was shut in my home.

I remember sitting there,
counting down the days,
thirteen days, twelve days,
eleven ‘till Christmas.

Set up a countdown,
stare at each second,
cheer every passing minute,
ten days ‘till Christmas.

Put up the Christmas tree,
hang up all the ornaments,
pull out the stockings,
nine days ‘till Christmas.

Hang up the lights,
an inflatable Santa,
glowing in the night,
eight days ‘till Christmas.

Plan Secret Santa’s,
drag my parents to the mall,
buy all their presents,
seven days ‘till Christmas.

Write a letter to Santa,
Dec 16


Dec 01

Life Goes On

Nov 17

Are We Not the United States of America?

I admit,
I’m not a political person.
I never watch CNN or Fox News,
and I’m not ashamed to say,
I didn’t know the difference
between Democrat and Republican
until fourth grade.

But I know right from wrong,
good from bad,
compassion from cruelty,
peace from chaos,
unity from division.
My parents taught me those.
I thought all parents taught their children those.

Then why, when I go on the media,
do I only see
ugly words distorted from anger.
Manipulation spinning threads
around and around.
Chaos, not creative chaos,
destructive chaos, meant to mince you down,
shred you until there’s nothing left for the vultures.
Ire and rage,
hate and disdain,
mockery and ridicule.

“Trump got Covid!” a comment snarls,
“I hope he goes to hell!”
“Biden’s stupid!” another comment growls,
“Go back to whatever basement you crawled out of!”