Poetry is like painting with words to me or creating a song without notes. It is highly creative and subjective. I love sharing my poems with others in hopes that they will touch and connect us more.
If you would like to read my favorite poems please check out my portfolio or watch a few of my poetry readings.
My brain is melting
turning to mush.
Driving to work
and working all day
has melted the things
that use to be in my head.
My mind is melting
rotting into mush.
I think I can feel
the goo dripping out.
My brain is melting
turning to mush.
My mind is melting
rotting into mush.
And now I think
I have said too much.
Do you ever feel your other side; the side that you try to hide? Do you ever try to push it down lower, because that is not the side you want shown? Do you ever wish to get rid of the part of you that should not have any part of you? And do you feel like that side, that part, could create a whole other you?
I once wrote, “I am Jekyll, but there is a Hyde.” I thought I got rid of that side, but in fact it just ran to hide. You see I am me and who I want to be. I am happy to love and love to be happy. I wish to be the sunshine in anyone’s day and want to try to see a smile on another person’s face. I am Jekyll but there is a Hyde, who hides.
She comes creeping out when I forget that she exists. When the sun is shining and my heart is filled she comes out to remind me of all the things that went wrong, scratching at the surface of my pain and playing with my fears. Reminding me with daydreams of the perfect man and the future that may never be. Wanting me to take an easier way with wider possibilities.
She forces me to look deep inside of me into the dark places that I have forgotten about, but where she lives. Like a vampire this other part of my sucks my joy and my identity away, trying to make me keep her out. She wants to play. She wants to drag others down with her, so that she can say that every one is sad and no one wants to be around.
I turn away from this darker side of me. She is not who I want to be. I do not want to worry about a future that may never be or focus on the fears that only scare. I do not want to work for nothing and live a zombie like life. No I want to be the happy version of me. The version that hears the laughter of friends and the love of family. I want to be the one striving and working towards my goals, not just sitting wasting my life.
The question remains. Do you ever feel your other side; the side that you try to hide? Do you ever try to push it down lower, because that is not the side you want shown? Do you ever wish to get rid of the part of you that should not have any part of you? And do you feel like that side, that part, could create a whole other you? I do.
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.
Yes, a poem about Greek yogurt.
A delicious poem
filled with memories
and thick creamy goodness.
This is a poem of love
that sticks on your tongue
slow dissolving, but never forgotten.
A poem about the lasting taste of honey
and a hug of comfort.
Healthy because of it’s favor
and wonderful because of it’s flavor.
Scoop me out some of this poem
so that I can remember,
the times when it was just a food
and the times when it was more.
Give me the reminder of a helping hand
and moments with my friend.
Yes, this is a poem about Greek yogurt
which fills me with joy
and sticks to my spoon.
It reminds me of a far away life
and makes me happy where I am now in life.
Yes, this thick and creamy
delicious and dreamy
healthy wonderful, some times a snack
other times a meal,
memory inducing and always honey filled
food is a poem in my heart.
I hope you smiled because of this. I did when I was writing it.
Does the sun shine only for me?
I wonder if you can even see.
The sun is bright
and gives such a warm light.
Does the sun shine only for me?
Or does it shine only for those near the sea?
The waves are rolling and crashing
and my happy beach memories are rehashing.
Does the sun shine only for me?
I ponder if it actually shines for that tree.
The one that is tall and mighty
who was made, like the sun, by the almighty.
No the sun shine for both you and me
It shines for those near the sea and the tree.
The sun shines for happiness
and I think it shines to impress
yes, to impress you and me.
Thank you for looking
and reading
and seeing
into my soul
into my heart.
Thank you for living
and laughing
and loving
with me
around me
and far from me.
Thank you for being
the person you use to be
who made you to the person you are
and is pushing you to be the person you will be.
Thank you for viewing
and supporting
visiting and liking
what I do
who I am
and how I do things.
Thank you.
Here is a fast but from the heart poem. Let me know what you think and if you are reading this, this poem is for you. I am truly grateful for every person who follows me and every view.
I hope you have a wonderful day and let me know what you think.
I know this is posting during the day, but I am writing it at night so bear with me or wait until it’s night to read it.
Inspiration push
one more poem
one more rhyme
before my brain runs out of time.
Please shine your light
for one more minute
just for one more writing
so that I can call it a night
The day was long
yet I want just one more poem
pushing myself to meet my goal
of one more
because I always want one more.
So push on inspiration
come close muse of my mind
dance out one more poem
sing out one rhyme
until we are out of time.
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.
I have put off writing this poem. I haven’t really wanted to truly face my ideas of loosing weight and why I want to get healthier. I also feel like I don’t have to share my reasons behind wanting to lose weight. Yet, this poem keeps bugging me, so I will write it if only to get it out of my head,
I hope you enjoy this poem.
Dear media,
Dear society,
I see the type of woman you ask for
I see your demands.
Media please know
I do not believe in your ideals
Dear society
I do not want your either.
I simply want to be me.
Yet the me in the mirror
does not match the me in my soul.
I do not know the woman
staring back at me.
I do not know the body
that I am in.
I am too young
for these ache.
My heart has more energy
than my body can take.
I yearn to do more
and be more
but how can I
when there is still more
more inches around my body
more acne on my face
and more aches in my knees.
I see you media
I see you society
and I almost want to embrace
this more type of me,
but I can’t.
I don’t want to me in your mold
but I want to me in mine.
I wish you did not demand perfection
so that every one will know.
I simply want to be the me
that I know.
I simply want to be the me
that is the same age as my soul.
I simply want to be me.
So I will.
I will turn my life back around.
I will fight these aches off
while the inches run away
and the pounds disappear.
I will fight my unhealthy cravings,
struggle to do what is right
and smile while I sweat.
I will fight until I am exactly who I want to be.
I will fight until I am
the me I want to be.
Dear media,
Dear society,
my health, my body
has nothing to do with you.
My health, my body
is mine and I will fight for it
despite of you.
I will fight until I am
the me I want to be.
Rispetto
A Rispetto, an Italian form of poetry, is a complete poem of two rhyme quatrains with strict meter. The meter is usually iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of abab ccdd. A Heroic Rispetto is written in Iambic pentameter, usually featuring the same rhyme scheme.
Traffic was bad
so I went back
Not getting mad
used a time hack
took my some time
to write this rhyme
not being stuck
which would have sucked
Guess how my day started?
I hope you enjoyed this poem and let me know what you think. And as always thank you for reading. Have a great day.