art, beauty, love, Poetry, short stories

September Rain 

​I love the rain and I love the cold

But I can’t stand cold rainy days
When the sky is Grey, drained of life
And the city’s buzz slows to a hum
When I can hear each single droplet
Drumming quietly on puddles
And count the tiny chilled explosions
Dancing on my bare shoulders
Those days I really can’t stand

An act of kindness passed
One stranger to another
A meaningful smile shared
Spreading like contagion
And I normally wouldnt notice
But with the world slowing down
And the rain calms my mind
I finally open my eyes to seeing
And it chills me to the bone

Not the kind of cold ward off by jackets
That I can honestly do without
On cold September days like these
It seems to take a lot more than that
The warm glow in another’s eyes
Bright memories etched on two minds
Warm smiles, a loving touch
A meaningful moment encased in a locket
Or maybe just a passing smile
Innocent in its intentions
But all that escapes me, so days like these
Days like these I really can’t stand
They chill me to the bone…

Advertisements
Standard
Poetry

Change my Life

I’m going to change this life of mine

One amazing day at a time

I’m going to turn everything around

One small change at a time

I’m going to challenge every obstacle

One innovative idea at a time

I’m going to heal this broken soul

One act of love at a time

Standard
Poetry

Colors Of Fall

Still so young, My soul grows old

Disguised in youth, my heart is weary

I’ve tread firmly down this path

Now I stand quietly wondering

Where I’ve lost the romance of life

It is now fall in early September

As a child, my favorite season of all

But I must have grown blind

For its lost its wonder

The birds do not sing me lullabies

The wind does not blow chills down my spine

The leaves are not painted in hues of sunlight

The air does not carry the scent of warmth

All the things I’d come to love

Disappear before my eyes

The colors of fall hide from my sight

I see the world in shades of gray

Oh how I miss the romance of life

Standard
Poetry

You Do Not Know Me

I can tell you my story

And you can assume

But you’ll never truly know

The life I’ve lived in these shoes

I can show you my pain

And it may all seem clear

But you’ll never understand

How I got to where I am
I don’t need your sympathy

I don’t need your care
And no I’m not were you are

But that does not make me weak
Keep you judgments and your hypocracy

Keep your assumptions and your deductions
Keep your theories and beliefs

No part of you is welcomed here

Standard
Poetry

Dreams A Child Dreams

When I was a little girl, my father used to say
Ever so often, ever so relentlessly
“The world’s not an easy place just wait till you see.
Who do you think you are, do you think you’re a queen?
You’ll never see regret coming till it’s already behind your ears
And when you remember how I told you so I’ll be sitting here waiting”
As a child with rebellion in my blood and pride in my dreams
I use to stand there silently and gracefully
My shoulders squared, chin lifted high
As though to say “Yes, I’m a queen and one day you’ll see,
I will climb so high, to where you can’t look down on me”
And I was so determined, so hungry to succeed
That I didn’t notice the thought creeping up on me
Till it was my living breathing reality I could not escape
The paralizing realization that I am no queen, I am no royalty
Nor did I ever truly believe myself to be
I had been waiting for that day I’d “see”
The world not as I dreamed it would be
But the cruel hard place he instilled in me
How naive must I have been to think that I’d ever been a queen
How naive must I have been to have ever believed

Standard
Poetry

Love Me More

“I will love you more than that
I won’t say the words and take them back”
I sing along quietly to the night
Waiting for a man to get it right
Resisting the urge to burst into tears
Trying to hold on a few more years
For him who will love me more than that
Who won’t say the words and take them back

Standard
short stories

Writer’s Block

  Finger tips drumming onto blank sheets impatiently, she sat there. Taking in shallow breaths of the stiffling dead air, she pressured herself to create.
  Create. Simple. She pressed the pen to the empty sheet till the black ink bled  out. Create dammit! Something.. Anything. But nothing happened. Nothing came to mind. Nothing written down. Just her, an empty room, the deoxigenated air weighting down in her lungs, and the pitch silence suffocating her. Hot tears scorched at her eyes and forged pathways down her cheeks, soaking into the empty sheet as she desperately grasped at the emptiness within her. Hoping. Just begging for something to be found.

  She covered her mouth, horrified, as she tried to hold back her sobs. The realization crept up on her like death.   “What.. What Have I become”
The world started to spin and as her center of gravity shifted she was knocked out of her chair. Frustration and emotions she could not easily identify overwhelmed her. She attempted to force air into her burning lungs when she came to the realization that she wasn’t breathing but it was already too late. Everything disappeared as she fell into the darkness… And there truly was nothing.

Scarlet Angel

Standard