Who is strong

Sometimes it would be easier if I didn't care at all,
it wouldn't hurt as much to just be a flower on the wall.
Hands full of broken hearts, sad stories, bad choices and pain,
Strong, dry eyed, calm and steady can be so hard to maintian.
If no one told me their secrets and asked me not to tell,
the dark thoughts of my heart might not be such a very deep well.
Carrying the weight of the world does not allow an off day,
no weak moments and no mistakes or everyone stares your way.

Fly by

Alighting delicately,
in the finest velvet dress.
Moving almost lazily,
no need to awe or impress.

Are You the Artist, or the Clay

push, play
guide, mold
texture, shape
moisten, smooth

The Master

Master of the domain, with a command on his lips.
Face etched in concentration, coursed with rivers of sweat.
Implements flash as what is whole becomes mere pieces.
Steam dances around the room, hot moisture fills the air.
Muffled crushing, wet snaps, and the steady clink of steel.
Sharp, tangy scents hanging elusively out of reach.
Master of the domain, obsured in a heavy haze.
Dark eyes, quick and busy, filled with determination
Movements rhythmic in the oppressive ocean of heat.
Bubbling water, a sizzle, and the woomph of fire.
Thick exotic fragrance, intertwined with the familiar.
Master of the domain, orchestrating each moment.
Hands carved of experience, and strengthened with success.
Taking all the fragments, creating a masterpiece.

Shape Shifter

Flowing, pure and crystalline.

Falls, untouchably fragile.

Shifting, unattainable.

Drifts in ethereal flight.

Hides frozen and translucent.

Symphony

The wind was conducting the sunrise today,

in a burst of flamboyance that's just fall's way.

Ascending a backdrop of frost bitten blue,

sun's first breath of warmth lit a rich crimson hue.

When wind cued applause for such glorious light,

trees replied with enthusiastic delight.

Dizzy confetti leaves escaped from the trees,

happily spinning and dancing on the breeze.

Then a brand new day was expertly unfurled,

as noble sun rose to beam down on the world.

Memories

Love a dozen-hundred-thousand.

Rain bows, pitter shatter.

Boy's toys, toy boys.

A circle a cycle.

Mistake, recycle.

Merry go round and round.

Ancient Being

I see you watching in the distance, draped in grey striped robes,
Standing very tall and regal, your range your soul domain.
Creased with age and etched with time, a crisp white cap of glory,
Sun shines on your open face, a full basin at your foot.
The folds of your character were formed from earthy depth,
Even heavily shrouded, the nobility shines through.

Your Eyes

Your eyes tell a story, if only I could read,
Of summer fun and winter nights, of love and miseries.
Your eyes grow a garden, if only I could go,
With winding paths and waterfalls, with rose and white daisies.
Your eyes have a map, if only I had a compass,
Through treasure troves and ancient ruins, through rivers and great seas.
Your eyes paint a picture, if only I could see,
The swirls of paint and brush strokes, the colors and techniques.
Your eyes consume my heart, you only have to try,
To read to me and carry me, to guide and show me please.

Do You Feel for that Pebble

Do you feel for that pebble, thats caught inside your shoe,
Knowing it is far from home, and now is stuck with you?
Do you realize, it's in a dark and lonely place,
Though once free to wait on the lapping of the sea?
Do you feel for that small thorn, thats lodged into your side,
Knowing it's been carried away from which it relied?
Do you realize, it's in an unfamiliar place,
Though once friend to humming birds, butterflies, and a bee?

Let's race

The ground flashes beneath our feet.

A steady, intoxicating beat, ba bump, ba bump ba bump.

Loose hair whips in the wind.

Breath short and heavy, and hearts racing, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump.

The world as a blur, passing by.

The mind as a passanger carried away, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump.

The movement familiar.

A rhythm both reassing and exhilarating, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump.

Torn

In the face of the ideal impersonator, words are echos.
Sleeping pictures and scenes all alike, in a million frozen fragments.
Through the scarred palms of the leviathan, slips chaff that was once sweet breath.
A millennium passes every day, a legion of miles each step.
Mind and tears of ice evolve, to a grain of time boxed for the future.
It cowers silently in the distance, not daring to move the air.

Reperio

A river flows through us both, with memories so strong,

Water running free, after being dammed so long.

It began as just a trickle from a rocky cleft,

Finding and pushing the cracks till there was nothing left.

I want to immerse myself, let it wash over me,

See if the current moves slow, or carries me swiftly.

Unparalleled excitement, as it all rushes out,

Maybe I'll go exploring, see where it carves it's route.

Dark Lady

The mistress never agrees to a date,
Thus never early, and yet never late.
In the dark of night, or the light of day,
She is laying in wait, to make her play.
But she has no conscience, not a regret,
In her stone soul, cruelty’s blade is set.
She will grab the heart, twist, and squeeze it tight,
Or arrive with a kiss, in the middle of night.
Sometimes gentle, as though a mercy done,
Soft and fast, over before it’s begun.
Consumed with anger, mistrust, or despair,
Creates a violent, crushing affair.
Appears when convenient, to her design,
Then once there, the lady may change her mind.
Embodiment of a great, silent snake,
Lady of discretion, like an earthquake.
Without prejudice, none her favour win,
Young, rich and mighty all repay their sin.
Mistress of Death is of many graces,
She has many names, and many faces.

Insecurity

This stone creature sits,
Unbalanced in my mind.
Glowering it scrapes,
Delighting in failure.
Just to haunt the heart,
It echos whispered words.
Gleaming in the dark,
Drooling over weakness.

Dear Grandma

Each year goes by quicker than the last, leaving sweet memories of past.
A loves first kiss, the oceans scent, baby smiles, flowers and money spent.
Families grow, little ones sprout, off to see what the world's about.
Friends multiply both near and far, teaching us about who we are.
Our hair will turn, our feet will swell, but they're all signs of a life lived well.
Our family is close, our friends are dear, and laughter is still a great cure.
When hours pass to end our day, we bow our heads and start to pray.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done...then thank god for life, love and sun.

Brain Storms

Watch them drift, sinking gently, spinning in treacherous seas. Brainstorms, thought clouds of dreams and memories.
Innocent little hopes that are dancing in the blissful whiteness. Don't reach to recover the bits and pieces.
Like the sunset that bleeds and disappears, water faded. Open your eyes, theres new hope on the wind.

Night Insanity

Alas, pleasantness, horror cavorts tonight,
Frolicking with madness through the recesses of your mind.
Beware of the acts performed within your sight,
The tyranny of images on the inside of your eyes.
By this state that you enjoy, be fooled not,
The sky falls from beneath your feet and leaves you in the dark.
Delight in the view, delight in the plot,
But slip not into the picture, lest evil win tonight.

Growing Up

Drift among forgone ages and whispers of preserved faces.

Recounting footsteps to losses and gains.

Yearning for the careless youth less the pains of growth.

Drift along what is to come and whispers of those still faceless.

Dreaming of foot steps for losses and gains.

Yearning for the careful grown, less the aches of youth.

Starting Over

Covered eyes reflect a day of mirrored waters. Of a sky filled with the future and depths filled with the past. A surface always shifting, like a frightened singer hunting for the wishing well's content. Can it be poured into love rimmed, rose tinted wine glasses?

I am thunder

The soft, wispy clouds build into a wall of blackness, that bursts with such light, and such earth shaking might. My heart races, the storm has charged me with it's strength, and I run, leaping into the flow of power.
My body tingles, exhilarated, the flavour of rain on my lips, the smell of lightening on my wet chilled skin. The wind uncoils from my sides, churning the excited air, as I snap a whip of electricity. I split open the swollen sky with a terrifying, satisfying crack, and a rumble erupts from deep within me.

Can You See

Can you see my hands? Can you see the marks, and the scars?
This one here is from holding on too tight, this one is for trying not to fall.
Here's one from reaching out to touch someone.
This one is from holding on to long, and one from playing with fire.
There's one, for letting go before I should, here, from trying too hard.
And this one is for trying to catch someone.
This one is from trying something new, and here, from not being very careful.
Can you see my heart? Can you see the marks and the scars?
For when I see my hands I can see my heart.
I wouldn't change a thing, I love every mark.

In fond memory

Etched into my heart,

embedded in my soul.

A light in the brightest

memories I hold

Bottled Whine

This past year has been difficult, with little sign of it changing. I have friends who encourage me to talk about it. I understand, I have always let people use me as a sounding board, wanting them to know they can talk to me about things. But maybe that's the hard part. My roll has always been that of the strong one, the listener, the shoulder to cry on. It just doesn't seem to be in me to talk about my issues. "You need to talk about it." I was told "What is there to talk about, there is nothing I can change, nothing I can fix or make go away, so what is the point. There is nothing to talk about," was my response. But my gears were going. Does bottling up ones emotions make a sour old woman, or a rare vintage? Eventually, I went to a councillor. I didn't want to be someone who thought they were fine, thought they were dealing...until they jumped off the end of the known universe. So, I told this councillor my life story, start to finish. It felt... like I was telling secrets! I told her how I felt about each aspect of my life. I felt as though I was a whiny, self centered little Cretan, talking about things I had no business bothering someone else with. All in all, she told me that I was dealing well, that what I was going through was normal, and she gave me some "coping techniques" she called them. So what did I learn? I learned to trust myself, because I am a reasonably intelligent person, with stong beliefs, who already over-thinks everything, so if I feel okay, I probably am. That doesn't mean I am not going to honestly analyze myself. I do, frequently, I always will, that's why I hope to be a rare vintage rather than go sour. But, I am going to brazen forward no matter what is presented, because I am capable.