I, Tiffany Joy, am a poet. I love sharing every poem I write with all who want to read them. I do this on my site by using the category ‘poetry‘ and also adding this tag to each post.
The Vine of Life
grows and splits.
The only thing that is clear
is the vine travels many ways,
flowers will bloom in their own time
and when they do
bees will come;
loving the flowers,
but not too soon.
Off to the side
A Rose does bloom
her bee is not yet seen.
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If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
You wonder and you ask me
Does your hope fly up in the sky?
Do you need your dreams to hide from reality?
Can you stop now from chasing your wants?
You see
I could give up and I could lie down.
I could turn away if you showed me how.
I would watch t.v. or read the whole night long
my time would be only all mine.
Yes,
I could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away if you showed me how
My nights would be free, my weekends filled with sleep.
And Alcohol, well it would be my best friend.
I really could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away. Please showed me how.
Life would be much easier, easier for me.
Easier to catch a breath, easier to do anything,
but that’s not me.
That cannot be me.
I am my dreams, not this reality.
I guess
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
I will paint my thoughts and write what’s in my heart.
My time will belong to my dreams.
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
My nights will be filled, my weekends hugged by hope.
And I will dance where my dream may go.
Because
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
I don’t typically write songs as you may know, so getting a finished song done is tricky for me. I believe the words are almost there, which is why I’m sharing them with you. I am still working on the tune and notes.Â
Please let me know what you think of it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.
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If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
The twirling pen yearns.
It yearns to kiss the paper again;
like a caged bird who desires to fly free.
It sees the unstrung violin;
the beautiful instrument that can only sigh.
Yes, instead of releasing it’s ink,
as it is meant to,
my pen twirls and whirls.
It dance through my fingers,
the same pattern repeats.
It yearns to kiss its beloved paper once more.
Yet it only spins,
like the unstrung violin,
its purpose is unfulfilled.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
Quietness fills the air
as my mind relaxes;
an eerie sensation.
My mind draws a blank,
wanting to be wrapped up
with the hug of a blanket.
I yearn to sleep the day away,
instead of doing work, I dread.
Still, if sleep was an option
my mind would not allow it.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
Home is where the heart is
or is home where a heart is?
How do you know where a heart lives?
A home may be messy.
It may be clean.
Loud noises may prevail,
or a simple quiet hum.
The smell of cooking
paint or farm animals
live among the walls of a home.
So what is a home?
Memories are made within the wall
and pictures display the heart’s love.
Styles along with dishware
are mixed and matched;
meaning hearts are mingling,
meaning that the home has lasted.
Loved is displayed
with knick-knacks
and photos of family
leaving lingering love in the air.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
This could be amazing;
ride upon unicorns
over sparkling rainbows
while bards play magical melodies
and wild nymphs dance on trees
amazing.
Others may spring into light
out of sheer joy.
This could bring delightful dancing doggies
or curiously cute cats,
wonders upon wonders could be brought.
On the other hand
if you flip the tape,
reverse my hopes,
show my fears.
This could be terrible,
rotted death could ooze out its orifices
like black tar filled humiliation
and the sulfur smell of dying dreams
those that were crushed by failure,
which would cause a dank cave
to become a bare home for my soul
with only swollen sadness
to guide my lonely days.
There is a burning flame
a flickering fire inside
that holds to the unicorn
almost seeing the sparkling rainbow
and knows
even if dying dreams are crushed by failure
new one will arise
out of the dream pulp
or ashes of failure.
The phoenix that is my heart
will go on
will create.
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.
The Window stays open,
but it’s cold outside.
The window stays open,
as I put on a heavy sweat shirt.
The window stays open,
so I pull on warm socks.
The cold air reminds me
of autumn leaves blowing.
The cold air reminds me
of my family gathering.
The cold air reminds me
that I am still alive.
The window stays open.
The cold air reminds me.
In a sea of knowledge
I’m surrounded by boats not fish
technology in the place of nature.
Pushing manual buttons
to answer virtual questions.
Even as I yearn for true life
I watch a mechanical fountain
as it pushes recycled water.
Electricity and lighted monitors
are my visual inputs,
with photo-shopped beauties plastered
all around the two-dimensions of my screen;
All the while knowing nature is so much more
fulfilling, beautiful, and inspiring.
It’s so sad that the shackles
of modern life keeps me coming
to the sea of knowledge
where I push mechanical buttons.
This was a very short poem, but I lengthened it. Let me know what you think and have a wonderful day.