Tag: #writing

I’m Broken

person sitting on rock on body of water

By the ocean,
before the night.
I broke, from missing you.

Tainted Blood

person s hands covered with bloodA lonely peer, a doorway.
Most still lay asleep.
Strangers, cloaked as lovers.
Lineup…for the rabbit hole.
Their smiles, fake, and you know it.
Will, did not lead them here.
All they want is to shower in that devil’s medicine.
Melt and run away.
How can you hold their hand?
Allow their laughter, their play,
to fill an ego until you trick them.
With a lie like the blood is clean.

Journal Entry # 123 – Women Too!

person standing on hand rails with arms wide open facing the mountains and clouds

A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.  – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Past Eight

road amidst bare trees
Whistles silent,
brews stress pinched to the nape.
TV flickers black and white but can’t turn it off.
Frozen mittens dry from the blessed heat,
brings sweat with no one to blame.

Mumbles first, like there’s someone to fight back.
Then, the knee goes,
not worry, just wonder.
Past eight…

…old lady’s not home.

Forgotten Notes

backlit boy couple dark
Let me sing to you, my daughter,
so I may make the strings of your heart,
play music that’s in between.

Journal Entry # 122 – Plant Those Trees

apple blur bright close up
Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.  – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Am I Write? # 2 – Never Doubt Yourself

close up of human hand

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” – Sylvia Plath

The Red Road

macro photography of pathwayI walked a path less travelled,
on a road covered in red.
Evergreens bowed before me,
to welcome back an old soul.
Draped, lonely…in silence.
A still that became my only friend.
There, my worries were sheltered,
protected by a forgotten trail.
That journey became ritual,
to protect me from blended reality.
I ran as soon as the sun would let me,
far away from the stranger who looked just like me.

 

Am I Write? # 1 – Let It Flow

CW-Banner
“But when people say, Did you always want to be a writer?, I have to say no! I always was a writer.” – Ursula Le Guin

That Song

alone-beach-black-and-white-702264.jpg
I remember that song.
Every note just for me.
Sweet melody,
aimed straight toward my heart.
Our souls in tandem with the music.
I’d bathe in the cast of your light.
You with that grin.
I’m there sometimes,
when I go back,
for a listen…just for me.