The Page Stares Back at Me,

Image courtesy of http://okbrightstar-stock.deviantart.com/ (slightly edited by me)

blank,
uncaring.
Words are in there,
I feel them,
though they stay hidden.
I try to coax them
by stroking the lines with my pen.
They scatter in meaningless dribble,
afraid of what I may make them say.
Words are tired of being sad.
They long to be happy,
to tell stories of love and romance.
I don’t know how to arrange them,
so they run.
My pen is dry,
my paper empty,
even my Words have left me.

Image courtesy of okbrightstar-stock

Rebirth

Ditch (Photo credit: Ben Bunch)

There are times, when life seems quite mundane, plain, even boring. We travel through our days doing our routines. Work, home, running kids to soccer practice, darts, whatever it is that occupies our time till the next work day. We go through time in a rut and think little of it. Then, for me at least, I read a poem. In an instant I am transported to another world, another time, another mind. I read and the words do something to my soul. They touch me in a way no woman ever has. The gently stroke my sorrows, caress my aches, hug my dying dreams. The words give me life, though I know it is only borrowed time, still I rejoice in the moment of rebirth, while at the same time I know, in the dark recesses of my mind, that the rut awaits and if the words do not come again, to save me in time, I shall lie down and simply cease to be.

I Tried to Write a Poem for You

Mountain Sunset

I Tried to Write a Poem for You

I tried to write
a poem for you,
but it is hard
to write about such beauty.
You intimidate me with
your talent,
your smile,
your soul.

I tried to write
a poem for you,
but thinking of you
makes my heart ache.
It aches from the joy of
knowing you,
talking with you,
being hugged by you.

I tried to write
a poem for you
but all I could think of
was how lucky the man is
whom you love,
to hold you,
to touch you,
to kiss you.

I tried to write
a poem for you
but there are no words
worthy of you.

Sometimes I try to write sappy love things…this is what usually happens. Oh and don’t ask what the picture has to do with the poem. I have no idea. I just think it is cool. It is a computer generated landscape I made and it makes me feel calm.

A Word

A Word

is on my tongue,
the word I long to speak.

It rolls over my pallet
like fine wine.

Swallow it and I am
intoxicated with the joy of it.

Speak it and I am
diminished for the loss of it.

Once uttered it is no longer
mine, but belongs

to Wind and
Ear.

I can never call it back,
make it mine again.

Reason

Reason

I strive for reason,
grope through sub-consciousness,
laugh at my desire.

Frail delicious afternoons.
Cold impending winter.
Loves soft chortle.

Grey eternity’s ending.

This is just a silly little exercise. We were given several words and were told to make a poem out of them. I can’t remember which words where there but it was fun and this is what I came up with. Just a little nonsense for the middle of the week.