Don't Forget Poetry Today!

Guess what? Today is a special day to recognize the art of poetry!

Poetry is a balm for the soul. At least, it is in my opinion. Whenever we learned to analyze poems in school, I was more likely to admire the work than to dig deep enough to tear it apart. Whether it was Emily Dickinson, T.S. Eliot (..."Do I dare to eat a peach?"), Tennyson or even Aphra Behn, they all spoke to me on some level. I believe poetry can heal and make us think about the human condition. Which we certainly need a lot more of these days. 

Check out some of these links to the stunning work of contemporary poets on my blogs:

Also, in honor of National Poetry Day today, I'm using Throwback Thursday to feature some of my past poems. Keep in mind, there is no particular theme to this grouping...

Enjoy! :)


Dream with Me

My yearning for you is strong,
something I’ve never felt for anyone else…

There are nights like tonight,
when I ache so much for you that sleep eludes me.
With bated breath
I remember our last embrace,
savoring your arms around me,
the warmth of your body against mine,
your chest beneath my ear as I witnessed the steady beats of your heart,
a constant comfort.
I recall our quiet talks about nothing and everything,
our shared laughter.

You’re the only one who reaches me on all levels,
physical and emotional.
But the convenience of technology – firing up a text thread or dialing your number –
is a poor substitution for the real thing.
The truth is
I need you in my life.
It’s a forever kind of thing.

With the storm striking outside – rain pattering against the panes of glass,
the occasional rumble of thunder
and each curse of lightning –
despite it all, I’ll do my best to keep you safe in my heart tonight.
maybe not tomorrow,
possibly in a week or so,
I’ll see you again and then our bond will be reaffirmed.
We’ll be one once more.

There are few things in this world that last,
even fewer powers resilient against time, hate or destruction.
But, love? Love will stand up to anything.
If you were lost to me,
I’d go anywhere,
do anything to search,
to find you again.
You mean that much to me.

It has nothing to do with loneliness.
This is about two hearts that were born for each other,
Two halves of a whole.
When we met, we spoke like old friends.
It was different yet utterly natural.
And no matter what happens in our lives,
this bond cannot bend or be broken.
This is love.

So close your eyes tonight and think of me, my love.
Dream with me…
Imagine a place of peace,
with lush, green land,
endless blue skies and beautiful seas.
A place where we’re together, dancing clumsily,
laughing and resting in one another’s arms.
Keep me in your heart, the same way I keep you.
I’ll see you soon,
on the other side of this hazy, slumberous journey,
to a world where eternity resides.

I wake to your face,
your warm smile,
the sound of your soothing breaths beside me.
And I know this is right where I belong.

You and the Muse

There are few things in this chaotic world that make total sense to me.
Two, in fact, which I can name right now…

Often it feels like I’m a mere pawn on the chessboard of life.
Some choices are strategic; others are left to chance.
A few are mistakes one would rather forget.
There’s so much about all of it we can’t control.
The sun will rise and set regardless of what we do.
There are few parts of life I can totally rely on.
Two, in fact…
You and the muse.

As you held me in your arms last night,
with your perfect embrace and your scent in my nose,
I had to fight back tears.
It wasn’t sadness which moved me.
Instead, it was a sense that everything was right.
Very few things in life make sense to me.
But you and our deep connection?
I’ve never been more definite about anything in my life.
We’re meant to be…

Then there’s the muse.
Writing is a drive inside me,
an unstoppable force.
The story calls, demanding to be told.
The characters live for a reason,
 and I live to get those interpretations on the page.

But I live for you too.
I’d be lost without you,
my soul mate,
my best friend,
my lover.
My lover and the muse…
two constants I can’t do without.

There are times when the pressures of life get to be too much,
when stressors drag me down.
The muse inspires me to tell a tale,
to explore the human condition.
But you…
You inspire me to keep dreaming,
to keep loving you and every moment we spend together.

The truth is you are my muse.
My eternal muse.
You and the muse are the same.
And I’d be very little without you,
my love.

The Other Side of Our Dreams

Do you sleep?
Do you dream?
At night, do you sleep in hopes of meeting me when you wake?
Do you dream, dream of me the way I dream of you?

Do you pray?
Do you pray you’ll see my face? To hold me tight?
Because I think of you every night…
Every day, of course, but each night many times before I sleep.

It’s not because I’m lonely.
When the day’s demands are winding down, the night gets so quiet you can only hear your heartbeat, the soft thump aligned with crickets humming in the darkness.
I think of you, imagine your face, your voice blessing me, your arms surrounding me.
I don’t think of you because I’m lonely and I need someone, just anyone.
You’re in my thoughts, always.
You’re the missing part of me I didn’t know about until I found you.

You’re everything to me…
My friend, my lover, my soul mate, all wrapped up in one fine package.
Even without the trappings, I would’ve known you were the one.
Our hearts still would have called to each other.
We’ve always been this connected.
On a night like this, with the wind whipping around the house and the moon so bright, it’s hard not to think of you, to feel you afar.

I’ll give you this other thought before I sleep…
Keep thinking, dreaming, praying, my love.
We’ll both slumber and find one another again, beyond our dreams, beyond time even.
Because this?
This is forever, and that’s more than enough for me.

Gentle Giant

Lovely branches,
The limbs are shorn, lopped off by heartless men,
Thieves of beauty, like those who disturb consecrated ground.

I weep for the trees, the fine yet hard surface of their depths,
The massive arms stretching out to hold us as Mother Nature does.

The earth must tremble with disdain at this,
Should punish and maim the blind agents of our despair.

Commodity has altered our purpose,
Our origins.
We have succumbed to the final capital gains.
At what price?
At what cost do we say we have attained pleasant comfort?
At the sacrifice of breath, of livelihood,
Should we really dare to destroy that which made us,
Provided us humbly with gifts?
Why seek to destroy our souls for creature luxuries?

I weep, I beg for compassion.
Please understand, dear critters,
dear structures,
dear Mother.
We are a wasteful, stupid lot.
Can we know better?
Why, yes.

Even the spiders reuse,
Even the sloths and birds treasure their homes.
We love our temporary dwellings,
Not so stationary as massive destructive metal contraptions ruin the moment,
The pleasant symmetry we had.

I cry out, I grieve for yon simple creatures,
Critters, insects in the earth.
Your home has fallen in ruin.
I weep for that which is gone,
For the humongous brown and green leafy foliage that once was,
That was a simple, beautiful embryo,
Little seedling in the days of old.
Gone back to the time of my great great grandfather and beyond.

But, times moved on and the child became wise and large,
Wisdom was ingrained and sought after with greedy hearts.
And then like something shallow and useless,
our elders were thrown away.
Elderberry, Elderwood,
Elder blossomed into a great thing,
Then to dust,
Made into spindly, decrepit stumps and sold off to the highest bidder,
Overlooked in its splendor.

Oh, useless silly limbs, reach out and tear the hearts that made you thus.
Perhaps gain some recompense for what was done.
Find some peace, dear tree.
And one day, those blind, unseeing souls will beg you and your Mother for forgiveness.
The abandonment was committed,
Now the sinner should pay.
In what form,
I leave that to your discretion.
Forgive our imbecilic,
Fiscal plans.

I weep for your life,
Your history.
And I kneel, humbly asking for your Mother’s permission,
To start over.
A new beginning,
A beginning without destruction,
Only peace.
And Mother can be herself.
Thank you for this chance, dear spindly limbed thing.
Thank you.


Head pounding,
heart aching,
words tearing through her like swords,
her eyes closed,
she prays for the voices to stop,
her beating heart to quit its painful onslaught,
for the madness to end.

Craving peace,
she ducks her head,
still resigned to the pressures surrounding her.
They will never stop,
never cease,
the voices blathering on about what she should or shouldn’t do.

The pressure builds,
she wonders how much she can take.
Tears echo like the raindrops above,
 mixing with her agony.

Yearning to scream “stop”,
seeking peace,
she opens her eyes.
The rain is gone.
The cement beneath her feet is calming,
her hands braced on the ledge.
The buildings stretch far and wide,
each edifice glistening as the new sun touches each surface.

The light blesses her face,
She takes a deep breath,
Hope fills her weary soul.
It’s her life…her journey.
And that should be good enough.


The War Inside

 Dark secrets,
ghosts in the machine,
tool of demise,
the demise of our souls,
who we are at the core.

We never think about the war inside, 
trouble in our minds,
a heart’s conflict.

When the war is over,
what is left?
How do you pick up the pieces of your life?

You just try.
Lift your head up,
your voice will be heard.
Let your conscience be heard till we…

Live better,
Breathe better.

Moral codes are fine,
but to be human is to err.
Forgive first.

That is also important.


The moon over this cool night appears lonely,
its sole, pale white disc yearning for another,
perhaps even for its fiery opposite which rises each dawn.

I imagine the moon is a bit like me tonight,
somewhat heartsick,
waiting for a hand to hold.
You see, I yearn for you like no other.
A thousand years could pass and I’d still want you,
need you,
love you.
This isn’t some temporary fling.
This is real, and I can’t stop this yearning within.

I know regardless of what I do,
what I accomplish,
how I laugh or cry,
I’ll still want you by my side.
That’s my unspoken vow.

We’ve expressed our feelings many times,
marveled at the deep connection between us,
but I don’t think you understand how much you make me whole,
on fire,
fearless even.

Without you, I know I’d try to dig deep,
I’d do my best to survive,
I might even accomplish something.
But life would be duller,
a part of me missing,
yearning for you,
waiting to find you once more in another life.
And even if I had never met you,
well, I’d still search for you like a time traveler who’s lost his way.

When we met, I found the mate of my soul,
my counterpart, so to speak.
Maybe I took time to admit it, and I love you for being so patient,
but the moment we met…

It was fate.
The stars brought us together that night,
sought to align us like a constellation,
two halves of a whole.
For I knew even then,
strolling and talking for hours so easily,
a conversation that had no end and somehow began like the echo of an old song,
I knew this was different,

I know now that night after night,
I’ll still gaze up at this brilliant moon and still yearn for you,
time endlessly passing…
but the heart doesn’t care for trivialities.

I know if I bide my time,
perhaps in a few days,
maybe next week,
even if a month has passed,
before I know it,
you’ll be at my door,
and I’ll be in your warm arms again,
absorbed by your love.

I have this ring that speaks my promise,
the symbol that is solely ours.
And I have you in my heart.
Your voice over the phone is some comfort.
The little notes you send are evidence of how you feel.
We talk like old friends,
we always have.

But still, I’ll yearn.
And I won’t be whole until you’re here, my head cradled against your heart.
And I won’t be complete until we say the vows that make us one.
Until then, my love,
I will wait.
I will yearn,
until our eyes and hearts meet again…

I remember…
Fields of lavender, as far as the eye could see,
Raindrops glistening on cheeks,
The ripe smell of it in the air.
Puddles of mud over laces,
A child in a raincoat and rubber boots.

I remember…
Pasting stars on a poster board covered with glitter,
Sharpening pencils,
The dust of lead soiling hands.
Riding a bike with a banana seat,
The wind whizzing past my ears,
The neighbors’ houses flying by too,
The windows' wide mouths open with laughter.
Playing hopscotch in the street,
Fresh dew on grass shining like emeralds.
Running on a beach,
Tripping over sand castles,
The water catching the sun, almost blinding.
Shopping in the town square, mistletoe everywhere,
One might think it was Christmas all the time.

I remember…
Being grown,
Moonlit walks on the beach,
Amazement at the dark, watery abyss calling to me.
And the moment your hand touched mine –
On campus we talked like rampant parrots and walked for miles and miles,
Now, I see your face in my thoughts,
Your wonderful countenance before me at times.

Thinking back to that girl, I remember…
But, she wouldn’t remember you. We hadn’t met.
That dreamer is me, yearning, wanting –
Yet I have you now.

Take my hand and we’ll…
Watch the bursts of light on the Fourth,
Make out like we used to,
Silly with hormones.
Knowing your love completes me.

Let’s make a new…

I truly believe words have power.
Here is a list of other poems I've written before. 
Happy National Poetry Day, everyone! ♥

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