|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Looking Beyond ForeverWhere does it lead?
The road past the rolling hills
The flowers and the sun
The clouds moving on beckoning us.
Wide is this path
A single way falling into the horizon,
A lonely journey
I long to walk this path
To run towards the end but never reach it.
The wind invites you to come with it along this road.
People Relax in the SummerThe patina of summer
Overlaying the Earth
The people and the cities
Mask the movement at our feet.
The birds in the sky- the animals below
All flowing like water around us
Changing while we sleep.
The ocean tides-
Grasping at the moon,
Dancing with the trees,
Aging over time,
Our time here-
Drawing to an end.
Nothing is ceasing
Despite our still minds
Our patina of summer.
Summer's Phantasm SongListen
In the breeze the crickets
The fairies light their lanterns
And the soft glow of night
Or our collective imaginations- radiates
The Best RelationshipOurs is
A love unfitted,
But full and strong.
Since it is while we sit in our own rooms
On the opposite sides of the world
Not knowing we exist.
We imagine our life together so sweet,
Who are we to have reality ruin it all?
A Narrow RoadLong walks
Down a narrow road
With my past at my heels
My future out of reach
The present always catching up.
ChildI am not finished with my childhood
I am not out of my wonderment
My knowledge cannot fill up
Like a cup. It does not overflow.
I will never grow beyond my imagination,
My youth is internal, beyond my body
Beyond my soul and beyond this world.
The young ones here are forever.
OursWe come together, and we fade away.
We are always here, but we cannot stay.
It is what we love, it is what we are.
The destiny of everyone, but ours alone
Is what matters to today.
The SunThe sun is shining on the sidewalk
On Tuesday, after school, after war
After a child is born, and a man dies.
The wind that blows in the cold brings in the new warmth.
The rain gives life as it helps destroy.
The universe that begins becomes to an end.
The same sun that shines on the sidewalk shines on our skin
On the soldier and the killer,
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be part of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
To the Boy Who Likes PoetryHe was a maze of metaphors
but she didn't mind
getting lost in him
raising a warrior never was an easy jobi.
when i was a child i would
sit on the porch in the rocking chair and watch
the sky fall and the ground flood -
safe on my wooden throne, i'd call out
amid the thunder that
it would never pull me to the sky, away from
the home i'd always known; when the storm
would cease i'd stand triumphant
over fallen soldiers, lying
like stained glass and shimmering, rippling --
when i was older
i stood in kitchen and watched you
bake, fingers drumming to the beat of a
war-drum you never could hear -
and you'd tell me stories of sleeping beauties
while i read about the knights
who risked their lives, got angry at the girl --
you taught me how to be
a lioness when you realized this girl would
never be a queen. i was made to rule, but not in
robes, made to claw my way
out instead of sit and watch the fight -
my throat ached to sing
a shout of victory, my skin itched to dance
in a triumphant haze as charcoal painted
the night alive --
and now when thunder shakes
the ground i count its be
Keep in Touch!