Some Poetry
I’ve written poetry here and there, and I’d love to have a compilation of what I’ve made so far. So, here are some poems I’ve made up until this point:
Under the Bright Noon Sun
A moment of clarity emerges,
Under the bright noon sun.
You see, I see many things day to day.
Many of these things are well known,
Well seen.
Well, I’ve seen under the bright noon sun
Something I don’t usually see.
There were ants along the sidewalk you see,
Working diligently for their Queen.
Their life’s work presented right in front of me,
And yet, why don’t I see them except while sitting,
Under the bright noon sun?
They’re working just a diligently as me,
So why does it take sitting on a bench under a bright noon sun for me to see,
That these ants, soldiers, warriors for their queen are just like me?
Working diligently for myself, the queen,
Protecting my soul from the harm a gentle breeze can bring.
A soldier in my own mind,
Under the bright noon sun.
So will anyone see me as I am,
That I am the same as anybody,
Unless they experience their moment of clarity,
Sitting on a bench within their own thoughts,
Under the bright noon sun?
My Beloved
Your heart has seen the depths of hell,
While your soul destroys demons that pollute my mind.
You look into my eyes to tell me, “all is well”,
When my instinct is to run and hide,
You’ve battled to put my mind at ease:
A trait most coveted.
My love is what you have managed to seize,
So, my heart is yours, my beloved.
Moscow the Cat
Laying with you,
Watching your breath.
Memories fly as birds,
Birds you watched from my bedroom window.
Knowing the inevitable,
I tell you goodnight.
I’ll see you in the morning.
My Sun and Moon
An immense bonfire dwells within my heart,
While and unstoppable mountain sits in my mind.
Both are powerful, yet neither rules the other.
My passion for life is luminous and magnetic,
While my apathy for life is a never ending expedition.
Both are of importance, yet neither more than the other.
Duality.
Why is such a thing seen only as separation?
When opposition is just as the sun and moon:
Both magical, both essential, both unforgettable images.
Yet, when it comes to my internal sun and moon,
They are a wall between healing and my wounds.
But healing and wounds are in themselves dual…
That is it.
Who Am I?
Who am I?
Nothing but labels and lies told to me as a child.
Who am I?
Nothing but stories and images told to me through the screen.
Who am I?
Nothing but ideals and beliefs told to me by the actions of others.
Who am I?
Nothing but none of these things told and shown to me throughout my life.
For I am greater than,
“Who am I?”
Unprepared
My feelings for you are a reckless hike,
Planned in the moment with no foresight.
I took this trail without research,
Noquestions asked,
No supplies packed.
Ginger Ale
I’ve woken at 5AM,
And all I can think of is you.
These thoughts are the ginger ale I drink,
Instead of brushing my teeth.
Refreshing,
Yet ignoring the morning breath upon my tongue.
These thoughts conceal the truth that,
I should brush my mind of you.
A Devil Like You
A devil like you would have the world entrapped by your beauty, if allowed.
Instead,
A devil like you has entrapped my mind, my heart.
The treat is your body, your soul, your voice.
The cage is the impossibility of and the turmoil of,
Not being with you.
Flowery Language
I miss you.
Three words weaponized by men,
To keep a woman in their pocket.
Flowery language that means everything to one,
And nothing to the other.
