Can I Meet Fantasy?

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.

Many Journeys ( A Poem)

poetry
I walk multiple paths in life.
My life is a combination of journeys,
all taking place at the same time
all taking their own time.

I look at the journeys I walk
and try to see where I’ve been
to see where the path leads.
I look back to see where I’m going
seeing the past as hints to the future.

On one journey
I am an artist;
dancing towards acting
while I write my paintings,
soon I’ll sculpt my imagination
trying new ways to shine my mind,
but always keeping pen near paper
to pour my emotions out with ink.

On one journey
I walk and journey
alone and with friends.
We talk in the silence
and let the silence talk for itself,
with my voice starting soft
growing as I crawl along,
only being able to be heard
when I discover myself around a bend.
Then love like a flood starts to pour out
and I learn to love by loving;
I learn to be loved.

On one journey
I am alone.
friends beside me,
Family supporting behind me
and God leading ahead of me,
but no one of my own.
On this journey there is an air of not knowing.
not knowing,
Is this how it will always be?

I look at the journeys I walk
looking back to see where I’m going
seeing the past as hints to the future.
I see a loved artist,
a strong, loyal friend,
and a happily single adventurer.

Telling My Dream

encouragement

The inspiration for this post comes from my weekly writing prompt series. The prompt is ‘Write a poem or short story with the sentence, “I didn’t want to tell my dreams to someone new.” ‘

I didn’t want to tell my dreams to someone new.
I wanted you to be the only one who knew.
But like a bird away you flew.
Leaving alone to see you in a new hue.

No, I didn’t even want to tell you my dream.
I wanted it to be my scheme,
but you pushed saying we will be a team.
Yet, you still left before the sun even shared a beam.

Friendship (A Poem)

poetry

I cannot, will  not lead you.
I cannot, will not tell you what is right.
Yet, I will walk beside you.
Yet, I will talk with you until you see some light.

Answers will come after questions;
who asks and who answers we’ll have to decide.
Some times the conversation will be made up of facial expressions.
Still no matter what I will be on your side.

This was just a quick little poem, that actually came from one of my prompts. Which weekly prompt I do not know, so cannot link you that blog. Still, I hope you enjoy this poem.

Inside Thoughts

writing

 

The words are bubbling. They are brewing. I once danced with them on the beach with the setting sun. Now the moon reigns and the words are a mush of over cooked strew. They are just bubbling and brewing no longer dancing in my mind.

The beautiful melody of fantastic descriptions and deep pondering has left my side. I now sit wishing and wanting for the words I needed to say to arise again. I wait for them to dance out of the sludge like stew that is now taking over my mind.

Tiredness slows down my thoughts and the need for sleep mixes all of them together. At sunset with the cool breeze whispering words to me, my mind was perfectly poetic as it pondered a pure poem.  Now only random ramblings can be rattled off as the stew thickens and traps the dancing melody of the pure poem inside.

Bury Deep (A Poem)

poetry

I battle with you
as if the war was needed;
as if I had no feet to stand on.

You tear me down
and I let you,
and I feel defeated.

You whisper awful thing
like I’m not really loved;
like I cannot stand on my own

My heart and happiness is real
but you tell me to ignore it;
but you tell I’m ignorant.

You know my every weakness
and you use it for my harm,
and you use it to keep me down.

But I am strong,
stronger than the war you wage
the defeat you push
the hateful whispers
and stronger than your lies.

I know if you were anyone else
I would push you away
spit in your face
or just turn my back.

If you were anyone else
I would be stronger,
but you are the little voice
the one the is buried deep
trying for weakness to keep.

I can not spit in your face
or turn my back.
I can not push you down
or choke you out.

Yet, there is this little box
it has a lock.
You little voice can go in that
and be buried very deep.

Where you say I’m a fatty
I choice to see a beauty.
Where you see hurt
I see my healing.
You see struggle as failure
I see it as a lesson.
Where you see loneliness
I see self-love.

So go in your little box
and I lock you up.
I will bury you deep
because your lies I don’t want to keep.

A Contrasting Human (Poetry)

poetry

My weakness is a valley
to the great hills of my strength.
My sadness and despair is the darkness
where the light of my happiness shines.
My naivety and optimism
contrasts my intelligence and planning.
I hope and worry.
I am confident after I am shy.
I am one coin with multiple sides.
I am human.
So I will push you forward
while I pull myself back
then I’ll push on forward
perhaps wanting to curl up in a cave
but never giving up,
because in my weakness I find strength
and I am intelligent enough to be optimistic in my planning.
The world is filled with both negatives and positives.
I focus on the positives
although I see the negatives.

The Poem I Wear.

encouragement

Write a poem about an article of clothing or outfit that you have worn in the past week.

This is post is inspired by my writing prompt post. 

Blue and strong I put you on.
Wrapped in power
ready to fight
as I tie you tight
with white.
It is clearly shown,
the army already knows.
I am a warrior
that does not know.
Tough I may be
willing to learn it’s true,
but not yet trained.

I know that the road is long,
yet I am beautiful
and I am strong
when I am wrapped in blue
tied tight with white.
Most importantly I am ready to learn,
because I am wrapped in my blue.

 

Not For you

poetry

I just found an interesting top search for this blog, so will be doing a poem inspired by, “may be am not the one for you .”

Maybe I am not the one for you.
Maybe you are not the one for me.
Maybe you are nothing but a dream,
wanting me to wake.
Yet, I open my eyes and see your face.
You are standing right in my happy place.
You showed me it and told me to come.
Yet, you are not the one.

My one will come
and I did wish you were him.
Now, I wish I did not make that wish.
I know you do not see the possibility,
so maybe I am not the one for you
and maybe you’re not the one for me.
Yet, I wished the wish
and it’s now flying on the stars.
I can not reel it back in,
even though I try.

You opened my eyes,
and now I can’t stop dreaming.
You welcomed me in to your happy place
and it became my mine.
Still, maybe you are not the one for me.
Maybe I am not the one for you.

You know it’s really interesting, when I see something on the search and  it winds up being something I needed to write. So, thank you who ever searched for that.

Five minutes more ( A Morning Poem)

encouragement

Writing Prompt
How do you wake up? Do you spring out of bed, almost always fully rested or do you hit snooze? What is it like for you to wake up on a typical morning?

Five more minutes,
please just five more minutes,
well five or ten;
fifteen minutes tops.
I just need to be curled up
in my nest of blanks and pillows.
Let me relax for a little longer
I promise I will wake up
I will get up and shower.
I just need to be in bed
just a little big longer.
If I could I would
just stay in bed
with my covers over my head,
but no I promised.
I will wake,
but I need five minutes more.