Poem: Rare Books

I collect rare books

Like a rich woman collects diamonds

Worn and dusty covers

Are jewels of knowledge

And gems of the future

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Poem: Isn’t Enough

Feeling the super feels tonight, guys.

 

When something feels like nothing

doubts, hopeless feelings

that maybe you aren’t good enough

exhaustion, like maybe

you’re just not right for this

 

It’s hard to tell anyone, though

they only see what’s on the outside

it’s hard to believe a friendly face

could be suffering

 

She wears a brown, fuzzy sweater

her eyes are blue and full of life

but maybe underneath

you see her fingernails are really paint-chipped

the lips wobble

smudge on her dark pants

eyeliner is beginning to run

 

her mind runs a marathon everyday

her heart is squeezed in two

maybe breathing isn’t as second nature

as it should be

 

you might feel like you know her

you might feel like

nothing can be as complicated

as what you see on the outside

but you don’t hear

what her whole self is saying

behind the smile

Poem Rerun: Library

I posted this once before, but I seem to be in the mood for reruns today. Do you guys ever do that? Maybe it’s a bit arrogant of a writer to share their stuff over, but dammit, sometimes you’re just proud of something, you know?!

Plus, I love libraries. I hope everyone is having a great Sunday! Happy Writing!

Library

stacks of books
quiet corners
and table nooks
The chairs are patterned
The carpet’s soft
Daylight beckons
Here’s where we start off:

Pick your destination
A rocket to space
Mars like universe
A romantic place
He’s on a pirate ship
She’s in the sky
Stomp through
castles and lakes
Watch dragons fly

Hiking through jungles
Searching for treasure
Double-secret-agent-lives
an island of pleasure

Here’s the adventure:
Giants and elves
Magic spells
Risking your life
One sunny afternoon
All on bookshelves

Poem: Something Missing

Because…was feeling all the feels the other night.

Something Missing

A boy kicks a hacky sack
outside alphabet soup, toy shop
on that liberal side of town

You can be surrounded by people
And feel so lonely
Smell of incense, wet dirt
Live music, sounds nice
the summer night, to tell a story
a story filled with heartbreak, regrets and new memories

Security is an old man with an empty coffee cup
Families are diverse and couples walk unashamed with tattoos and purple hair
The singer croons and someone in the crown whistles
And I think that this night feels perfect,  almost

The seat next to me is empty
And just as a write this – someone whistles
But it’s not you, babe. It’s not you.

Poem: Dumb Bum

Dum Dee Dum…

Feeling like a bum

all in bed, nightie on

feeling sleepy

energy gone

watching Netflix

making rhymes

life is exhausting

…to be creative

…sometimes

I like the new job, guys, but it’s hard to be creative sometimes when you are burnt out from work. Sometimes I work out after dinner, and that seems to give me more energy. Sometimes I read. But most of the time, I am a bum, sitting and watching Netflix and just tired, tired, tired. 

What about you guys? What keeps you motivated?

 

Poem: Library 

stacks of books
quiet corners
and table nooks
The chairs are patterned
The carpet’s soft
Daylight beckons
Here’s where we start off:
Pick your destination
A rocket to space
Mars like universe
A romantic place
He’s on a pirate ship
She’s in the sky
Stomp through
castles and lakes
Watch dragons fly

Hiking through jungles
Searching for treasure
Double-secret-agent-lives
Just for her pleasure

Here’s the adventure:
Giants and elves
Magic spells
Risking your life
One sunny afternoon
All on bookshelves

Just Reminiscing, Poem: Summer

I love this time of year, and I couldn’t resist sharing this poem I wrote a few years ago. I love this poem. 

Summer is like magic. Summer is the part of yourself that is happy when the sky is blue and the days are longer. Summer is about childhood memories, fireworks and sticky marshmallow fingers sitting around a campfire. Summer is about reminiscing. It’s about dreaming.

Source: fstoppers.com

Source: fstoppers.com

Summer

 

People say there is something

about the way light shines across crystal

across diamonds, too

 

But there is really something to be said

about thousands of lightning bugs

on a warm June night

that makes the world glitter and take a deep breath

 

These are the diamonds of the mid-night summer

these gems of remembrance

these flashes of yesterday.

Poem: Writing Mind

Managed to spend a good four to five hours writing today! This is good news! I worked on a few projects at once, but one project I really got in to today. I realized I could probably submit it to the writer’s digest contest by June 1st, but to do that it needs some serious rewrites.

I got in the writers mindset a lot today and trying to emerge…is like waking up from a deep sleep. (At least it is for me.) I get this spacey expression on my face, and conversation is difficult, because part of me is still thinking about character’s dialogue in my head or planning which way a character is gong to go next.  It is an interesting feeling to say the least, but hey, at least I was productive today!

Pictured I snapped this weekend at the lake.

a writing sort of mood

everything sounds like poetry

blank stare

“Whaa…”

emerge from the world

like a band-aid ripped from a wound

jarred back to the present

words are like poetry

the trees are like poetry in motion

and everything is heavy, heavy, heavy

like a dark blanket

trapping the sun

in its shadows