New
Lets find a new hope
Time to learn a new rope
All this while
So much pain
Lets find a new gain
Born again
Born again, like learning to reopen my eyes.
Funny how you can live your whole life seeing one way of thinking.
How you can supposedly shield yourself from the sins of humanity.
All the while, little do you realize that you’re the biggest offender.
Closed off to any new ideas that may shatter the bubble you live in.
Then one day your mind is opened.
Your eyes that once saw sin, see heathens in a whole new light.
Different actions played out by differing situations you never were enlightened to before.
I am born again, eyes opened and mind clear.
A whole new world before my newborn eyes.
entries out of order
Sorry for that. I had some trouble getting post to show up. Finally got things figured out. Hopefully it will be in order from here on.
Overlooking the Lake
Sitting on a bench
notebook in hand.
High pitched and fast talking kids
birdlike, chatter all around the lake.
Human chickadees.
In the water they churn like piranhas.
Their older versions move slowly like herons
in the woods and have calm sounds
and gentle ripples when they swim.
And I’m lost in my head
at Lost Lake because
I’m supposed to be home
writing about a location
for the poetry marathon.
Poetry Marathon poem #8
I sit
within the halls
of laughter
and friendship.
I know tomorrow
holds change
softly within its
well-manicured hands
and I do not fear
the one who
pulls the strings
though that may be
paranoia speaking
but perhaps not.
I do not fear the known.
I do not fear the unknown.
I am brave enough
to face-
8 pm Poem
White picket fences
Cleanly cut lawns
Perfectly tended flower beds
Inviting welcome mats
Cutesy curtains
Screaming children inside
Domestic violence galore
They’re unable to eat meals together
But it’s okay
They look perfect
So it’s okay
That’s what they’ll tell themselves.
Hide and Seek…9pm (and for me, the end)
How hard can it be to find someone to love me, just me, not the idea of me or a part of me. Someone to love me, to want to be with me, to want to dance with me, to write sweet songs and harmonies with me. Cause I want to find you to make breakfast for you to write you a poem based one hundred percent on you and only you about you wanting only me and allowing me to be an integral part of your being. to go to bed at night knowing you’re there and you waking up knowing that I care, to hold me in your arms everyday, to laugh at your jokes and wipe your tears away.
But I am fifty-two.
and still looking.
Wedding Band
It is
A promise
A reminder
A symbol
It is not
A collar
A leash
A chain
Companionship, not ownership
Freedom, not bondage
Love, not possession
Imaginary wit
Curse me not with your pity,
or self-proclaimed intelligence,
delusions of importance,
mythical wit;
I find myself uninspired,
just incredibly tired,
of your self-indulgence,
disproportionate confidence,
imaginary superiority;
your lack of respect for others
astounds me constantly,
and yet I stay,
and allow you to do the same.
Falling Behind
And suddenly
As Lot’s wife
Turned into salt
I meet my own drought
Of words, of images,
Of ecstatic utterance
And settle into
The calm of a Saturday evening
With ambient music
And one good book.