Can I? A Poem

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Can I call you up,
before I take a step back?
Can I hear your voice,
hear you laugh?
Will I then be alright?
Will that then calm my heart
or could this just be the start?
All evidence is pointing
the wrong way.
Life and the world
is saying turn away
but my heart is saying no.
No to taking a step back,
no to giving up before it starts,
no to doing what is smart.
Yet, if I call you
I wouldn’t know what to say.
If I heard your voice
mine would run away
and I would be helpless
if your laugh was brought from far away.

Can I call you up,
before anything really starts?
Can I hear your voice,
some how see your face?
Can I tell you that
your mind seems so brilliant,
your strength seems so foreign
and your smile is so enticing?
Can I share with you
my thoughts and how I see you?
One of which is you as
my ideal which frightens me,
a strange tough work of art
that makes me want to inspect more,
but when I get to close
I must turn away,
because your eyes
they seem so knowing
so frightfully knowing
and prefect.

Can I call you up,
before I know what to say?
Can I hear your voice,
even if you are not on my list?
You are not the person,
that my created wish list created.
You only have the needed traits,
the non-negotiable and absolutely needed parts.
What about the goofiness,
and where is the sense of humor?
How can you seem so great,
but lack the lightness I seek?
How would you fit in my family,
when you are not even a little crazy?
You see you are too sane
to be my ideal.
You are too put together
to have me by your side.
No, see you don’t have the things
I have said I don’t need,
so you must not be the one for me.

Still can I call you up,
before I take a step back?
Can I hear your voice,
hear you laugh?
I want to even though,
all evidence is pointing
the wrong way.
I want to because you seem to be
my ideal which frightens me.

 

I wrote this on November 29, 2014 to help me with a crush. I saved it for a bit of time, so that it would not be so fresh when I published it. Since now I have started the process of getting over this crush I feel like I can now publish this work of art. 

I hope you enjoy.

Starting a journey

by tiffanyBrazilian Jiu-jitsu writings, other updates, random ramblingsPosted on 2 Comments

writingI started a journey last week, maybe you noticed. It is a life long quest to be my best. It will be a struggle see how this makes sense, showing some one or at least me something similar to growth. It is a journey that I have embarked as surprise to myself. This surprised journey, the sudden change in my seeing things is a surreal change in my path.

You see this new journey and sudden changed, changed more than a day like I thought it would. The first step was not really the true beginning. I thought it would be stepping into the hot sweaty gym, but no. The true beginning was asking the simple question, “Can I?” When the answer was yes, I was given a chance to step into the steam filled, rectangular room that was filled with blue and green mats.

My first class lasted all week within my muscles as an excited reminder that I did something impossible. What was that impossible thing I did, you may ask. I put down myself as I took off my shoes and learned my strength. I learned a new love. It is an impossible love that I told myself I would never find. It is the love of something that pushes you to the brink of your limits, but leaves you wanting more. It is a love that build you up, shows you the strength within you and tells you everything can be learned from. It is a love of Brazilian jiu jitsu and yes after only one class I was in love. After two classes I confident enough in this new journey to write about it.

You will hear more about my training and journey. This is only the start.

 

Rush

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I want to rush
buckle down
learn quickly,
move ahead fast,
never stopping
always hopping
never slowing
always going.
I want my days to turn to nights
and my nights to turn to extra days.
I want to skip all the steps
and get to the finish line.
Let me cross that line
let me get to where I am going
although I’m not sure where I am going.

I want to rush
skip ahead
read the last few pages
finish the ending scene,
watch the finale.
I want to stop working
stop living a life not meant for me
I want to rush ahead
to that day where this book
in the series of my life is over.
I want to skip ahead
to the to be continued screen,
wrapped in your arms – in your love.
I want to jump ahead to the end
where I am just being me
loving what I do.

Life doesn’t work that way
you cannot rush the days
and time already rushes to fade away.
Plus, the journey is
what makes the destination worth while.

Bubbling up

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

What joy is this;
What feeling of total bliss?
My excitement is bubbling up
I’m sorry but I just have to do it.
I have to shout out loud,
squeak and squawk.
There is no controlling
not this joy
not when a life was saved
and miracle was shown.

Can you contain a firework
after it explodes?
Can you hide the sun
once it rises?
Why than would you think,
could you believe,
that I could hide my thankful heart?

My heart is those fireworks
with the light of the sun
shining out my love.
The news of true life
sparked the explosion
and lit the happy fuse.

What is this joy?
Why am I in total bliss?
Because love came
and gave a miracle
by answering a prayer.

Fingers

by tiffanymy creative self, other updatesPosted on No Comments

writing

My fingers want to dance on the keyboard and feel the story or poem pour out. They want to touch the words and sense the love that can be found within. Within each word there is love and there is hate. It is a battle that rages in each word. How do I use it right? What is the best word to use? How should I write? I must write the right way with the write words, but my fingers they just want to dance. They perform a ballet and then a waltz across the keyboard in the rhythm of my music.

Oh dance fingers dance and let my mind explore and explode with the background music. Show me what I think and how I feel. Shed light to the dark areas of my soul. Where I do not dare to go. Yes, fingers dance on and press the keys to write my own heart’s song with the notes being words  of the wordless song.

How I do enjoy when my fingers dance along  with the music that I hear. They become fairies beckoning me to a new world, or a familiar home.They show me a story that was locked in my mind, unless they decide to write a poem or a new melody. AS I sit they shine love like a n old friend and converse with my mind like a counselor.

Yes, I love when my fingers dance.

If you haven’t tried closing your eyes and writing whatever comes to mind as you listen to music with no vocals you should. That is what I did with this.

Let me know what you think.

My Future

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

writing

I can see my future in gold, rising to platinum. I see the waves always at my door step, but never coming in. With peaceful chaos I live my perfectly crazy life, remembering to love and laugh even in the stressful hours, even when there is a storm outside. Because, there can be a hurricane outside, but my soul can find rest within the loving arms of the one who hung on the cross.

Yes I can see my future in gold, rising far above anything I have imagined. In my future I am draped with love and clothed with joy, wiping off fear and sorrow like mud that is flung. I know that all the pain, sorrow and fears that I may feel can be washed away and I will be made clean with love again.

I may not see my future with details and clarity, but I do see my future in gold and love.

 

This is another top search inspired writing thing. I really enjoyed a few of the top searches listed this past week, but was only able to jot them down as notes. The exact search was, “I can see my future in gold.”

Let me know what you think.

Beach Walk (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I walk with sand on my feet
with water rushing my toes.
My eyes point down
I lose reality
picturing a warm hand to hold
contradicting the cold ocean water
happy smiles on his face
as we silently walk in companionship
joining our hearts with friendship
and learning love through our eyes.

I walk with sand on my feet
with water brushing my toes
and dream a dream
I never really wanted to be mine.

Poetry of Words.

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry
Let me twist you
distort you
and make you my own.
I want to ring you out
and squeeze
every bit of meaning out.
Then I will fill you with flowers
and the sweet scent of love.
Once I dissect you
I will stitch you back together.
Once I know your insides
and can hold tight to your outsides,
then I will use you,
then I will love you dearly.
First,
Let me twist you
distort you
and make you my own.

Wow, that became a dark poem. I am talking about learning different words though, I swear. The you is a word. 

Are You My Dream? (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

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.

A Poem about Zucchini Bread

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

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.