Are The Words (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Are all the words already said?
Did they fly out of someone else’s head?
I can’t see and I can’t find
Any words that are inside.

Are all the words already made?
Did they already create all the new means?
I don’t have any to call my own.
No new words have been shown.

Are all the words claimed?
Can they never be changed?
If I use a word a certain way;
If I tweak the meaning in a different way,
will some one complain?

Are all the words already said?
Are all the words already made?
Are all the words claimed?
I think not;
you just have to look beyond.

Where I wear my Heart (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve.
It is not on a piece of clothing that I wear.
My heart is easily concealed
and easily shown
on my claves
and on my chest,
painted with pain
each part properly placed.

Here is my family
always a part of me
like a vine of flowers
on which I stand,
first known and first inked.

Here is my claim
that I love God and he me,
the closest to my heart,
the hardest to make part,
shining what I believe
the easiest to see.
Love is at the center of the cross.

Next, let me show you
my smile.
The only one of my inked on hearts
that speaks clearly its words.
‘We’re all mad here,’
it smiles
reminding me, always,
that everyone is crazy
in their own special way,
so keep on smiling
because you are crazy too.

The last for now,
my truest of true heart
blossoms forth
beautifully claiming
each friend then and now
whether at my center
or closer to the start
has created my heart,
either with love or with hate
and will forever be part of me.

You see I do not stand alone.
I stand on my family,
supported by my friends
with God at my heart
and a smile always near by,
so I inked them with pain
as a reminder
and a claim
that no matter what happens
everyone
in my life and in my heart
in at least one way will never part.

Vacation (Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry
I need a vacation
from my vacation
to remember my life.
Funny how things are funny
when you rather work
than relax;
rather long days
than days of nothing,
so give me gifts of projects,
show me love by showing me a plan.

I needed time away
to know how much
I don’t need time away.
Now work is a happy burden
keeping my schedule a pleasant task.

Self (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I lost myself
when I ignored myself,
not trusting my heart
not listening to my soul.
The gentle whispering
saying no was dismissed.
I turned away from myself
and hid myself,
so I lost myself.

Now I will find my heart
when I fly to the light
and can be bathing in support.
Will myself snap back in?
Will I come out of my hiding place,
when I am home
and my soul feels safe?
Will I then find my heart.

Here (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

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.

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.

Questions (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

For a little while now I have had a feelings for someone, well a crush on someone. I have written a few poems about this and have not posted them, because it was too fresh. Now, that it is on the tail end I feel comfortable sharing the poetry I wrote. 

If I write about you
will these butterflies fly away?
If I admit my feeling
will my heart slow its racing?
If I stare at your picture
will my heart remember to beat when I see your face?
Can you answer my questions?
Let me know you’re listening,
show me you care
or should I back away,
silently slink into the shadows,
back pedal and back up,
should I let you know
or let these feelings go?
Can you answer my questions?
Say you’ll slowly signal for more
or tell me to take off.
Either way speak,
answer my questions
that I cannot ask.

Clouds (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

 

 

I flew back east to be with my family on Tuesday and have been focused on this trip all week, which is why I have not posted anything most of the week. I am now back on my computer and have a bunch of writing from my flight to publish. Here is the first poem.
poetry

Magical puffs
of frozen fluff
drifts gently,
drifts gracefully by
as I sit yet fly
with the Sun beaming in
as I travel to see my kin.
I simply sit
and see where the puffs’ shadows hit
over the hills and farms
and over the homes with alarms.
Yes, I sit yet fly
as the graceful fluffs drift on by.

The Storm Outside (A Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Shh the only sound you hear
is the crashing of the waves.
The only wind near
is a breeze saying a storm will come.
Wake up today
no danger really awaits.
Get ready and start
there is no reason to wait.

As you shower the winds may pick up
the breeze will turn.
The storm is still brewing.
The weather is still ramping.
The outside should be safe.

Get ready and go,
the storm is still safe.
Drive to work,
it is only wind.
I, the weather, will wait.
I will wait until you do drive.

Now that you are in your car,
now that you think you will drive far,
I will come with an angry gust
and throw my tears your way.
Now the storm is raging on,
so turn around and stay inside.

I, the weather, will wait no longer.
You are awake and ready
but can go no further.
Turn around and watch all that I am,
as I hit your home with angry gusts of wind.

Yeah, that was my morning.

Pain so good (A Poem)

by tiffanyBrazilian Jiu-jitsu writings, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

 

This pain
is so freeing.
This ache
is very much relaxing.
Let this flame
keep burning,
this fire
never die.

The pain pushes me.
The ache shows I am alive
The fire,
oh the fire
it keeps me from looking back
from slowing down
because if I stop
the warming fire may die out
cool my heart until it is ice.

So let the pain hurt
the ache be uncomfortable
and the fire burn on.