Time for a Time Poem

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Where did the time go?
It must have flown out the window,
yes out the window of my soul.
You see I saw time
it danced so merrily
but the dance was a slow waltz,
then I stopped watching it
that must have been when
it grew wings
and flew away
out the window of my soul
never to return.

Where did the time go, though?
Where did it fly to
and why can’t I be with it?
Did I hurt it like a wounded puppy,
or was it because I took it for granted.
I once thought it was a giant mountain
an endless journey
or even a bottomless pit of love.
Now I look around
and yes I have what remains
but in places I can see the ground.
I can see where time ought to be.

Still, time has flown away
and I do not know where to.
One day I will find out
where it flew to,
until then I will count my blessings
count my love and
cherish family along with my friends.
with or without the time to do it.

Puzzle Pieces

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

writing

If we are all puzzle pieces fitting together to make a beautifully detailed picture can you be the one connected next to me. I want to force your gold and silver to connect with my puzzle piece, but I am cardboard. I am just a cardboard piece and you are metal. Perhaps you belong to another picture one perfectly planned for the materials you are made up of.

I do see another puzzle piece off and forgotten. He is not a shiny metal that looks out-of-place. This lone puzzle piece is also cardboard, just like me but his picture is being pulled apart as if life lifted the layers off. I know though, glue and love will mend any bends or pulled picture pieces. This other lone puzzle piece does look to be in the same picture with brilliant bright colors creating a beautiful part. Perhaps this pretty puzzle piece is part of the picture, but he may not be so tightly connected to mine.

My paint is not as bright or beautiful. I do not shine with beauty as the lone puzzle piece, still I will investigate. I will search every configuration. I will try to force the pieces that may not fit together. I will try even if the other piece remains unaware or uninterested in fitting together. I will figure out for myself by gluing down the pulled apart paint with love and glue until I know either way the puzzle is put together.

I Am A Dork (Almost an Acrostic)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I am a dork
And will not apologize.
Me being a dork is just who I am
And why would you apologize for being yourself?
Don’t you see
Only you can say who you are
Rarely can anyone else look inside you and find
Knitted answers of all of who you are

I am a dork
Always smiling
Making my life happy
And expressing my joys
Daring to live out who I am
Only holding back when fear creeps in, which
Rears its ugly head in crowded arenas
Kind of like a boss that I must beat.

I am a dork
Answering questions you may not ask
Matching characters together in my mind
Alone with my stories some times
Darting from one to the other like an
Owl looking for the best rotten to eat
Ranking each story into its own category
Kindly explaining to all that each is my favorite in its own way.

Yes, I am a dork and happy to be.

A Poem from Top Searches

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Some of you may know that I sometimes enjoy writing poems using what people search for. This poem is another inspired from the search. 

I’m just another dreamer

wishing to get inspired

in the same place

where I find guidance

to make a change for the better.

Who am I?

I am a poem in a person’s body

one of those gym people

and lover  of life,

who sees the beauty in inspiration

who guidance in the struggle the world gives me.

Who am I?

I’m just another dreamer

Play on (A Poem for musicians)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

writing

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.

Stop (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

 

Dear mind,
dear dreaming self,
please stop.
You are walking
at it’s a dangerous path.
I see the briers.
I see the holes,
pit falls,
stumbling blocks
and thorns.
I can tell
where all this thinking,
where all this dreams,
and wishing will lead.
It is clear as a day
without a cloud in the sky
and I am wearing new, clean glasses.
The briers are crisp
and the thorns are bright.
The holes contrast the beauty of the light
the pit falls are almost shouting
with their daunting blackness.

The warning signs are hung
and they are direct,
so mind please stop,
dreaming self wake up.
I know where this is going.
I have been down this road,
journeying around this area,
too many times before.
I have walked to the end of the road
nearly falling off the edge,
so mind please sleep
and dreaming self turn off.

You need to stop,
before you fall into the hole.
Desist unless you trip
into the dark pit falls that are around.
Resist even thinking about the flowers
their steams are thorns.
Turn around before the briers get you.
Mind, please I have had enough.
Dreaming self it is all a dream
one which you control.

Please, self, turn around,
in your mind,
walk down another path.
Do not journey down
the path meant for two.
Do not go on the road
when you are alone.

Thank you.

Who I Am (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Ask me who I am
and I may tell you
I do not know.
Ask me what I am
and I will tell you
I am a puzzle not to be known.
Ask me how I am
and I will smile
saying that should already be known.

Who am I?
Today you ask me,
and I will answer
with this moment’s answer.
I am me.
I write my heart,
not knowing all of it.
I speak my mind
still hoping to grow it.
I share my soul
praying that you won’t break it.

I may not know everything
not even about who I am,
but I know
I am stronger than I have been tested,
smarter than I seem,
and more loving than I let on to be.
My heart is deeper than any ocean,
and how deep it goes scares me at times,
because the deeper the chasm
the easier to fall,
the easier to be broken,
so my heart may be deep,
but I do not venture
as deep as it goes.

Who am I?
I do not know,
an artist at heart,
but with an organizer part.
I am a nerd to start,
who loves all things about art.

I do not know fully who I am,
because I have not fully lived.
My life is not over,
so I will still be changing,
still be growing,
and I will still be learning.

Who am I?
I can only answer
quite simply,
I am me.

 

Myself (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I’m going to reach down deep
to pull something up.
I will whisper now
while I learn how to shout.
I will stop myself
to become myself,
because with every dream
there is a struggle.
When you try to turn
you dreaming
into your reality
you must sacrifice
to get everything.
You must give away
to see your dreams in reality.
So, I will fight against myself,
push what I want now down
and pull up what I am meant to have.
I will control who I am,
to become who I want to be.
I will whisper, ‘keep going,’
so I can shout, ‘I made it.’
Always reminding myself
my dreams will be reality.

Some days you just have to remind yourself that you can do it. The road may be hard to get to where you want to go, but you can do it.  You can face and beat any struggle, challenge, or obstacle if you know and believe you can.

One day I will prove that to you, by my life, til then keep on journeying on with me.  

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. 

I'll wait (A Poem about writing)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I will wait
for inspiration to come
for thought to appear,
like a word bubble from my head.

I will wait
until my mind is ready
and my brain turns on,
like a computer booting up.

I will wait
until I am ready
until my body tells me
it is time to write.

Then when patience
is no longer needed
and inspiration comes
I will write.
I will write whatever
my mind tells me to write,
my brain whispers to my fingers,
and what is scribbled
in the thought bubble above my head.

When I know what to write
I will ready my body
unleash my mind
and write,
but until then
I will wait.

 Sometimes you need to wait other times you just need to write. This of course is a combination of both. I needed to write as I waited.