Here is my love.
My love will be given,
from my heart
to your soul.
Relax and I’ll let it be.
Please, do not worry,
We too shall meet.
My love is here
in my heart
waiting for your soul.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio or watch a few of my poetry readings.
Let me live among the stars
Allow me to dance a jazz-square
on the moon.
If not teach me
how to trap my dreams in reality.
I will soar high
above my common life
living in the clouds of my desire
then like gravity
you pull be back
to where I sit.
Let me fly.
Let me soar.
Let me live,
even for a moment more.
Instead you pull me
chain me
and remind me of my fears.
Road blocks are made
while obstacles rise
like you forget what’s inside.
My heart will soar
I will fly.
You may be helpful
reminding me of reality
but my dear mind
you know my heart and my soul.
They will win.
I will live among the stars
and dance on the moon,
so please just step aside.
Oh, there’s the reason.
There it lies,
on the floor of my mind.
It was hidden
behind ideas of romance
under longings of intimacy
neither the reason.
They only hide the truth.
This attachment to a stranger
with the idea of romance
longing for discovery of the deep
was caused by a dream of more,
just like reading my mind
told by another life,
this one also touched my soul.
He spoke my heart,
showed the world my hopes,
and told me I could be
the more of my dreams,
without even knowing my existence.
What makes me beautiful? What is pleasing to the senses?
You may answer my curves. I do have them and the contrasting peaks and valleys are pleasing to the eyes. Yet, I believe that the strength hidden within the curves of my body are more beautiful than the outward appearance. You see my body hides its toughness and endurance behind my hour-glass form.
Perhaps you believe that my eyes are what makes me beautiful as they sparkle with blue hues. I could agree with you as I do think that my eyes are beautiful. Still what makes them beautiful is the mind and heart that is behind them. It is the life and love that shines out of them.
My smile, lips and mouth are also physical features that could be pretty by themselves. They are brought into beauty by how they are used. My smile shows the happiness that lies within my soul. My lips and mouth are only beautiful because of the encouraging words and unique thoughts that come from within.
You see my mind, soul, and heart are what makes me beautiful in my eyes. My outward appearance in beautiful because it shines what is inside.
Now that I answered what makes me beautiful I ask you, “What makes you beautiful?”
Here are the chains
I clasp on to my wrists.
Here is the weight
I tie to my heart.
Here is the knife
I slowly stab into my soul.
Here is the prison
I hide myself in.
I cannot unchain myself
from the chains I claimed.
I cannot untie or cute the rope
that holds down the weight on my heart.
I cannot heal the hurt
from the knife in my soul.
I cannot unlock my prison
that I once locked myself in.
So, I give you my chains,
please undo their locks.
I give you the weight,
please cut their ropes.
I give you the knife
please heal my wounds.
And I give you my prison,
please turn it into a home.
Yes, I give you my everything,
please make me whole.
I am not for sale but you can by small pieces of me. My body, heart, and soul are only mine. You can not buy or bid on them. Yet, I will bleed for you. I will bleed out all my creativity. I will happily give you all of my mind as long as I know where to find it at the end of the night.
Yes, I will give my all to give my art, but you will never buy my heart. I will bleed for you because my love will never end. Still no money and no treasure will be set to claim my very self. I will give you every piece of me and some times those pieces will be free. However, those pieces are the things I can spare, those bits are what needs to come out.
So thank you for collecting the things that I shed, but please know I am not for sale.
What do you artistic people think? Is that how you see selling your art? It was a random creative rant, so I don’t even know what I think.
Let the music play on,
sing your song out,
make the notes dance
out the throat
through your mouth.
Let your words paint music
with your instrument in hand.
You music is a beautiful painting,
so paint on the air.
You songs are a sweet aroma
to my mind,
or like a light shining into my soul.
So play on,
sing on,
and keep on creating.
Keep on sharing.
Let my life be filled
with the music within
your mind,
your heart
and your soul.
Play on
and let me hear
that sweet melody,
your beautiful rhythm
and that soul that shines from the deep.
Let the music play on,
You music is a beautiful painting,
So play on.
Are you the dream I dreamed?
Are you the prince that came
sweeping me off my feet
with a smile and a laugh?
Are you the dream I dreamed,
in a far off land
close by love?
Was it a love that would never end?
Are you the dream I dreamed,
both with my eyes closed?
Was the laughter real
and the looks meant
to penetrate my soul?
If you are the dream I dream
the prince I wished for
and my ideal
please let me know.
Show me how to start,
before your solid form
turns into a memory.
If your eyes are the windows to your soul
than let me look upon a warm loaf.
If poetry is the doorway
than surely there should be a poem
written to the food that warms it.
I heard a poem spoken
about peach cobbler
and how to make it.
I have heard a poem
about the houses lived in.
But there is no poem
about Zucchini bread
so I will write it.
Where to start
we go so far back.
This almost miracle
delicious in my mouth
reminding me of childhood
reminding me of family
and reminding me of love.
We share the time it takes
and we share the bread we make.
Some families have old traditions
spanning generations
going back as far as their own family’s creation.
My family has Zucchini bread,
the wonderfully green mixture before it’s baked,
the sweet smell that tells you it’s ready,
and the thick, warm taste when it’s cooled just enough.
It is always a happy time when this bread is cooking
the smell alone is enough to put a smile on your face
and love deep in your heart.
The smiles that dance on the faces in the kitchen
and the laughter that steams from creating this masterpiece.
Yes, other families have their traditions
and their memories;
we have our own
and I know I would rather taste ours
than yours.
So, here is to the flour on the floor,
the green goop on the counters
and the love in the bellies.
Here is to the freezers filled
the gifts created from joy
and the memories made.
Here is to the Zucchini bread
that I love to make
and love to eat.
I feel like this is a bunch of different poems wrapped into one, but I think it works. Zucchini bread is my favorite food, so it should have more than one poem written. Let’s just say this is multiple poems written to blend together or something like that.
What do I do?
sit in anger
in grief
waiting and watching
the ball of angry twine tighten?
What do I do?
Scream and shout
about the beauty that was lost
wallowing in my heart
about how it was unfair?
What do I do?
Watch my soul grow dark
and my heart breaks
What do I do?
I write
pushing off the anger
wiping clean the screams
that want to creep out.
I turn the light of my soul
to shine bright
and move on.
What do I do?
I continue on
I laugh at the poem that comes out
and smile
I get to write even more.
What do I do?
I win the battle
that rages inside of me
I first wrote a lovely little poem about aging and being loved. It was sweet and happy with the repeating line smile and play. Well that obviously did not want to be published and wound up being deleted some how. That is where this came from.
I hope you enjoyed this and have a wonderful day remembering you don’t have to be angry when your work winds up being for nothing.
Always smile and know you are loved.