Unnatural Nature

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry
In a sea of knowledge
I’m surrounded by boats not fish
technology in the place of nature.
Pushing manual buttons
to answer virtual questions.
Even as I yearn for true life
I watch a mechanical fountain
as it pushes recycled water.

Electricity and lighted monitors
are my visual inputs,
with photo-shopped beauties plastered
all around the two-dimensions of my screen;
All the while knowing nature is so much more
fulfilling, beautiful, and inspiring.
It’s so sad that the shackles
of modern life keeps me coming
to the sea of knowledge
where I push mechanical buttons.

This was a very short poem, but I lengthened it. Let me know what you think and have a wonderful day.

Choice and Action (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

Joy is a choice.
Love is an action.
How can you choose
Joy when you’re drowning?
What loving action can you take
when your soul is fighting to survive?

I escape from a self-inflicted prison,
now able to see
to breath
but still hurt by hits
fired from one who knows
where the wounds will be effective.

Still I will love
and find a way to choose joy.
The hurt will heal.
I will not cage my caring or my calling.
Joy is a choice I am choosing.
Love is an action I will do.

To Sleep (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry
Will my eyes fall
before my mind fades?
Will poetic words escape,
running faster than sleep?

They are there,
right behind my pen,
pushing and struggling to be freed.
Too many push
Too many are jammed into the passage way.
The ink cannot be spread fast enough,
they are clogged and stuck.
My eyes are falling
as my mind fades.
My poetry lost the race;
sleep won.

Writing with Colors (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

Speckled with colors
and pink dyed hands,
I came to write
about what I saw in this land.
Words escaped me
my mind drew blank
as I push a story aside
to focus on how to create.
Yet, here I sit
speckled with colors
and pink dyed hands
only thinking lost thoughts
waiting for words to write.

Poem for Music

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

Show me your pattern,
undo your meaning,
let me into your world,
and make me dance.
Make me bounce in my seat.

I know that’s what you want;
your beat makes me dance;
your words move me to writ;
and your rhythm is the pace I write.

Yeah it’s like you know
what I need,
What is in my heart,
where my mind wants to go.

So, Show me your pattern,
undo your meaning,
let me into your world
and make me dance.
Make me bounce in my seat.
You know you do.

Game ( A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on 3 Comments

poetry
Let me think.
I need to ponder,
If I choose wrong
I may meet an ogre.

What would she do?
Where should they go?
There are many enemies around
and my rolls have been low.

My spells are running out.
There is no rest in sight.
I think ogres are getting closer.
I’m sure they want to fight.

A party member is running off.
I guess we all should follow.
If we run into a dragon.
I’ll give it that party member to swallow.

Hey DM do I get inspiration? 

I hope you guys liked this poem. Let me know what you think.

A Pondering Poem

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry
Can art go on art;
Laying on it like a lover?
One inspiring the other,
romantically entangled,
but no romance to handle?

Would the art be part of the other art;
like one piece of the whole is the heart?
It would supply life,
living as section,
being whole by being only a part.

This is just a fast little poem, but I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.

Dark Den (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

Please give me,
a dark den,
with a cool current flowing through.
Let the ground be a bed,
not dirt or grass.
Really I just want a dark den
to lay my bed.

For you see
I simply don’t want to be me.
Not that I do not like being me,
simply put I don’t want to be.
Just for a time,
just for a night.

All I want to be
is in a dark den,
one that is cool,
with my beautiful bed
to curl up comfy in.

Who For?

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

Who do I do this for?
Who will win from my hard work?
Who will smile as I undress,
displaying my wonderfully curvy body?
Me, the answer is me.

I will win,
I will smile
and I am doing this for me.

I do not strive,
I do not fight,
I do not struggle
not for anyone,
except me and God.

If I do not do this for me,
then it is for God.
If I do not win,
then it is for God.
If I do not smile,
then I lost sight of God.

Who is all this for?
It is for me,
but if not me than for God.

Can I Meet Fantasy?

by tiffanyother updates, PoetryPosted on One Comment

poetry

I do not want to live this life.
I want to dance with the pixies,
laugh with the werewolves
and maybe meet a fairy or two.

I do not want to live this life.
I want to see my thoughts
in air bubbles that are
taken away by the evening’s breeze.

I do not want to live this life.
I yearn to be free.
Free of things tied to reality,
where there is magic.

I do not want to live this life.
Yet, I know I have to.
I guess I will just depend on love
to be my magic
and honestly that is enough for me.