Whispering Willows |
| by Laura Mason |
| Whispering willows in the wind, Throughout their calm, majestic leaves, Breathe a sigh of unspoken tales, Fables of hangings and murder plots, The love-affairs of courting couples, Names on bark entwined for love, Sleeping beasts awaken at dawn, Burrowing to the surface skin, But at night, how she sleeps, Her slow steady process, Growing, receiving and giving new hope, Where she falls, others will succeed, Her place overturned in the, Circle of life. |
thiS LiFe liKE aN jOUrnEY juST waLK wItH yOur OwN pAtH...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I Am Someone |
| by Annastasia Aressia |
| I am someone I walked past a dead face even though the person was alive I saw my eyes in the mirror and cried at the sight I looked at a person I didn¹t know and I met a friend I got heads to turn when I walked past I learned a lot about myself when I lost a new friend I cried every tear in my body when I thought about love I got hit bad then got back in the ring I climbed a mountain of rocks and saw an eagle fly over- head I heard terrible things about myself when no one thought I was listening I realized I was strong when I didn¹t cry when it hurt I found out who I was when I was with someone else I thought I was lost forever when a friend found me I held a life in my hand and it was my own I was a pawn in someone else's game so I surrendered to a brook I walked the fine line between surviving and not wanting to survive I still am I am someone |
Look Within |
| by WhtDove |
| There is so much beauty in This wondrous, blue rose If only we could capture it Within our very souls If we could take its beauty And apply the glow within Search a little deeper In the soul beneath our skin Take what it does stand for And shed its love abroad Don't hide the glow within you But share the love of God You know you can't touch beauty Without it rubbing off on you And spreading it to others In the kindness that you do There lies within each one of us The beauty like this rose When it's used in touching others Then its beauty overflows |
Into Every Life |
| by Christopher |
| he looks into air, himself falling rain Dripping coldness past, memories old pain. Drops fall, the puddling his damp water-life. Spiraling a mirror, self-lonely strife. A sigh, one frown, crying soft saddened tears. Storms of remember - through bleak yesteryear. Clouds a-whorl, dark sky sheltering fair heart. But how can he joy, while taking no part? Covering cold soul, corona of defense. Defying the stab of her fate's intents. This is madness, he thinks in plaintive cry. I'm here, on the cusp, of lay down and die. What my destiny, but an empty-off dream? A plaything with which gods and angels scheme. Am I doomed then to live, time never-free? Subsumed wholly 'neath life's scattered debris? Is justice, outside this torrential doubt? Perhaps more than sorrow, painful fall-out? Is love, perhaps, just a sliver of sun? Shining through mists, revealing Avalon? Personal paradise, which I can own, Evoking happiness, hither unknown? he raises from streets of lonely no more. Light slicing through darkness, hopes washed ashore. His withered gait now straightening with pride. he glides like an angel 'cross future's tide. Belief in life renewed, no, only found. Footsteps echoing, a cadence of sound. Caressing the ground, sing the beat of his heart. Into the sun seeking love's brand new start. |
A Rose |
| by Elizabeth |
| A lovely rose with petals soft A scent so sweet and light So beautiful a flower With colors shining bright. But something not so savory About the fragrant rose - The thorns, so sharp upon the stem, That sharpen as it grows. Yet still lovely is the flower Despite the thorns that prick Just as life and love are sweet They too have thorns that stick. But do not fear to live or love, Life's not exempt from pain - So pick a rose, you may get hurt, But you will also gain! |
I Am |
| by Skyfyre |
| I am ... A man With a full heart, hidden Somewhere in an empty room ... With eyes not quite of autumn's gold, and yet Neither all of summer's green; I wonder ... If love is a tale made for children -- A granting of sweet dreams in their innocence -- A honey-coating to help their throats Choke down the bitter draught ... I hear ... A voice that whispers warnings, half-formed, Bodiless as hope, until I swear I cannot draw Another breath unless this spectre be unmasked, His lies mangled ‘neath my righteous tread; I see ... A man, proud, uncompromising, Diaphanous as air -- less, even, than the tears That fall in desolation about he weary feet, Salt poison pooled upon the withered ground ... I want ... A measure of quietude, a certain silence, The echo of alone which heals me of dreaming, The nothing that stills the wanting, The numb, the cold that laughs at pain; I am A man, hidden ... I pretend ... That I can live forever -- that Time Has no puissant but that which I afford Him -- And so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow, Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking ... I feel ... Too much -- too deeply to be directionless, Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes Hold nothing of recognition -- only my reflection -- A meeting of shadows in sunlit glass; I touch ... The downy wings of hope, in wonder, In reverence, in need, in hunger; Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame, A sacrilege, self-defined ... I worry ... That I am alone; that in my longing I have forsaken all -- but oh, what reward, What smile divine should light the path to freedom -- And how can I but heed the siren's call? I cry ... For having too much, for fear of bursting, And then, when by the pouring of my soul I lie, a vessel emptied, I cry again For what was had, and lost; I am A man, empty ... I understand That life is what you make it, That sometimes, the coat of many colors That marks your triumphs brightly, blends only To loneliest of grey ... I say That we are made by life, shaped, Broken, perhaps -- unmade and voided -- But always, the core of us remains, waiting With only faith, with trust, to be reborn; I dream Of bluest waters, reaching With unnatural hands toward the faded sky, Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits, Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds ... I try ... To lead by example, knowing That merely the telling holds no power; A gift of giving is merely a day, while A gift of knowing spans forever; I hope ... That my darkness holds you gently, That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling Wields nothing past the words it summons, Except that it touch you with only healing ... I am A man, only. |
Their Pain |
| by Meredith Mcghin |
| I can only imagine What it's like to sacrifice How it feels to do without What it takes to pay the price To offer all I have Unto others with a need I can only imagine For myself, I live in greed I can only imagine What it's like to be alone How it feels to be rejected How to get by on my own To never share a secret To feel empty deep inside I can only imagine For myself, I live in pride I can only imagine What it's like to be abused How it feels to lie awake Feeling angry, tired and bruised To have no friend to turn to Filled with rage I can't release I can only imagine For myself, I live in peace I can only imagine What it's like to know such pain How it feels to wake each morning With a past I can't explain To live a constant nightmare That no else can parallel I can only imagine But for them, they live in Hell |
Rose Of Life |
| by Ellie LeJeune |
| I am unfolding gently beneath your loving touch Becoming I let wholeness breath my petals free Awareness Sweet fragrant Spirit touching senses into life Wisdom Giving beauty back to the universe Knowing Each petal, sweet miracle of life Oneness We are hues of color, yet one in Spirits blossom |
In Times Of |
| by Kit McCallum |
| My soul drifts aimlessly in times of hopelessness. It searches tirelessly for meaning and truth ... Yet finds no direction. My heart bleeds quietly in times of loneliness. It yearns to find warmth and happiness ... Yet it somehow eludes me. My eyes seek out visions in times of want. They gaze endlessly through the blackness that envelops them ... Yet they cannot see the light. My ears listen earnestly in times of silence. They search for familiar sounds to comfort and console ... Yet they cannot penetrate the darkness that surrounds me. My arms reach out frantically in times of despair. They seek strength and compassion to enfold me ... Yet they find nothing substantial to enwrap. My mind cries out desperately in times of solitude. It poses intense questions that demand answers ... Yet there are none to be found. My hand reaches out earnestly in these times of confusion. It dials the number of a familiar and calming voice ... And gratefully, my lifeline to sanity ... remains intact. |
In Times Of |
| by Kit McCallum |
| My soul drifts aimlessly in times of hopelessness. It searches tirelessly for meaning and truth ... Yet finds no direction. My heart bleeds quietly in times of loneliness. It yearns to find warmth and happiness ... Yet it somehow eludes me. My eyes seek out visions in times of want. They gaze endlessly through the blackness that envelops them ... Yet they cannot see the light. My ears listen earnestly in times of silence. They search for familiar sounds to comfort and console ... Yet they cannot penetrate the darkness that surrounds me. My arms reach out frantically in times of despair. They seek strength and compassion to enfold me ... Yet they find nothing substantial to enwrap. My mind cries out desperately in times of solitude. It poses intense questions that demand answers ... Yet there are none to be found. My hand reaches out earnestly in these times of confusion. It dials the number of a familiar and calming voice ... And gratefully, my lifeline to sanity ... remains intact. |
Drifting |
| by Kit McCallum |
| I sometimes find I'm drifting Through this life without effect; I often wonder if I'm truly Worth what I've been blessed. I search through days that have been hard, To try to understand, The many trials that I have known, The life that I have had. You see me in my daily grind, So confident and strong; Yet when I am alone, I question Just where I belong. I often try too hard I find, To analyze and guess, To scrutinize, investigate My life I will confess. For somewhere deeper, there must be Some meaning to this life, Some way to make a difference, Give a reason for this strife. Is there some hidden meaning? Some agenda to be found? A greater purpose waiting If I care to hang around? It teases and it taunts me, Always slightly out of sight; A hazy vision out of reach, Where darkness hides the light. I struggle to bring clarity To what awaits me there, And yet this weak illusion Always fades before my stare. It seems the harder that I try, To focus through the haze, Just serves to add more questions, Through my endless, tired gaze. Perhaps I'm trying just too hard, To understand it all, For can we ever truly know Just what we have in store? Each incident, each moment passed, Just adds upon the next, But in the end, will I find truth ... Or will I be perplexed? Perhaps I make it harder Than it has to be sometimes, But will my searching bring to me My meaning over time? Or will it leave me broken, And confused as I feel now, While questions bring no solitude, To this, my wrinkled brow. |
Let It Fall |
| by Michael G |
| One more anti-hero worship from the depths of some enigmatic fool that left the suburbs for the open fields of post modern flight from hell. No, not from the quakes or the rumblings of racism, that stench we all tend to want to get rid of, but the fact that there were just too many things wrong. So off I went to the last journey of my youth, through the pubs and alleys of Los Angeles that served many nights of reckless talk and the establishment be damned. There goes Happy House, Scream and all those open up at 10 pm party houses, where you paid 5 bucks to drink yourself to life, and walk out Saturday morning at 6 am like the kind demons we were. And dance the pain that we had kept for the week and wonder what 30 would be like and if the Virgin Prunes were right about "If I die I die". But then, that love in your soul the one that makes you write and pour out those false indignities that caress your heart and mind for after all we've been through stars have their moments and then they die |
by Steven Mather
If one more day should pass me by
without a glimpse of you.
If cold night should once more descend
before I feel your silent touch;
if sunset comes without a word,
then tears will bubble from my eyes
to river down my face.
My heart will like a deadstone lie
and I, forlorn and hopeless,
will turn away to die.
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