@powerpoetry
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I'm writing this to you,
Telling you we're through.
I can't take you anymore,
Don't know what I liked you for.
All you did was wear me out.
As I look at the rainbow I choose a color for me,
Is it red? Is it blue? No it is green.
It represents something we all need to survive,
And it inspires me to work hard as long as I am alive.
Sometimes I get overwhelmed thinking about growing up. I used to be a carefree kid but now I'm an adult and I have responsibilites and bills and the like. But I find solice in knowing all those who have gone before.
There are people that make it
And those who don’t.
Some are given wealth out of their mind
And others learn to grind.
No Pain, No Gain
My parents used to rush to me when I scraped my knee
When I said I had an “ouchy”
They used to worry about me
So much so that they could not sleep
There was a knock at the door
By a group of four
A girl who lived all alone
Was afraid by the harsh tone
She was a mystery lover
And every happening felt thriller
The moment she opened the door
Carmel against a sunrise break.
Hints of gold appear & vanish within each trace as if fire flies dance within them.
I crave to look into eyes that mimic a whiskeys lullaby held into the light.
Carmel against a sunrise break.
Hints of gold appear & vanish within each trace as if fire flies dance within them.
I crave to look into eyes that mimic a whiskeys lullaby held into the light.
I’m still scared to give you all of me.
I saw what you could do & saw my own ability.
But to you I’m still just a maybe ?
You sang that sweet song
The one that stays on your lips
I close my eyes to escape this broken mess
Yet you’re the first thing that comes to my undying wake
Why did you promise me the moon & stars?
I hate that I dream of you
I hate that I still dream you’ll choose me
I hate that when I drink all I see clearly is your face
I hate that when I close my eyes I can still taste your lips on mine
The news blares bright and gaudy. Full of fear and sound.
yet in the warmth of my grandmothers living room
golden light filtering
through her paisley curtains
it feels
far
away
Going first.
So easy it might seem.
It starts feeling like a dream.
It's rattling me from within.
How bad can it be?
Like the calm mellow sea.
Everyone is looking at me.
I feel anxiety.
I was recently faced with the challenge of my Grandmom’s being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. I am fortunate to have a very close bond with my Grandmom, whom I consider my closest relative and my best friend.
Because of you, I learned how to love
Because of you, I know love
Because of you, I strive for happiness
Because of you, I know happiness
Picture me as a twisted string
Coiled and troubled by many contradictions this world brings
Suffered with defeat by my disability
The power behind the pen
Power of words
Moved to make a difference
Daring to proclaim and share
I am in control
The therapy when words Arent enought
The stroke sex could never (provoke)
here you are.
sitting on the cold sand
the smell
reminding you of
the solid aster
your father brought your mother.
you didn't know you'd make it
down this winding road
Bell Glass
I try to cross the thresholdsI try to shovel poetry in glass bottles eaten by the seaSome BellJar note washed ashore,some ancient hand had written
such a small thing to hold so many hundreds
of memories and sweeping emotions.
haunting lyrics scrawled in dancing neverending ribbon
in my brain,
melodies caught in my heart and
stuck in my mouth.
Sleep.
Counting sheep, and
Sleep.
Bedtime stories, and
Sleep.
Lullabies, and
Sleep.
Dreams and Nightmares and Hopes and Fears and
Sleep.
Small hands gripped the noose and they were mine
Tears fell, the ground sizzling as if I were already in hell.
This was it, this was my end
The worry ends here, the burden dies here.
I apologize if the video (link above) is slightly out of whack. I've never done this before! :)
if the sun could go out like a light switch
Sunder a sonorous symphony, and
truths are uncovered as the band performs:
That Sousa turns the background bird-call bland,
and Tchaikovsky upstages thunderstorms.
I’m a realist
I don’t look at the world through rose tinted glasses,
I don’t search for the love of my life around every corner
I don’t expect things to turn out the way I plan
I don’t ever leave things to chance
Ridin' down the highway
I feel the beat of the music
Surfin' through the stations
The radio waves crash against me
As the World's Swept away
I'm an Artist with a passion
I am what surrounds me.
I am the sum of the Earth.
I am more than just me.
I am anger, sadness, and fear and compressed into one soul.
I am the pollution of the world.
I am what you choose to see.
The reflections of your actions,
the words you speak.
I am the light you let in,
or the darkness you allow to consume thee.
I am power and in control,
I'm just like you Nothing different I'm the same as you Came from the same place Same block,Same city, same country, same school, same friends.
I am like sunshine, fruit-bearing.
What I know you shall know.
For every multiplying cell which belongs to me awesome belongs to you.
Observing life as abandoned it can be a phenomenon shines through,
Have you ever stopped to wonder
Why everything is awesome?
Maybe it’s the lightening and the thunder
Or the flowers that blossom.
Suppose it could be the air we breathe
All that glitters is not gold,
So how dare you be so bold,
To say that the best things in life are free?
Well, no one is free from impunity.
You only have the freedom of speech,
In origami, one fold leads to a shape,
and that cycle repeats itself over and over again
I never thought that we would face the problems that we do.
I thought that we were perfect and were who the world looked up to.
I walk to my room when I get home from school,
And the first place I go, is to the beautiful upright piano.
My heart beats to the rhythm of the music I play.
My life is like a battlefield
Guns and bombs exploding,
Temptation coming over me,
My heart slowly eroding,
Darkness, all around me,
I can’t help but feel scared
Darkness, it’s swallowing me whole,
Why don’t people care?
Calx ut sulum has in vita est ut reperio diligo
Tamen quis nos operor non animadverto est , nos usitas transporto lemma absentis
This poem begins with a man in fifth place,
It is on Earth where people run a race.
Life is a race that every man will lose,
I was sitting in church in the very last pew,
With hate in my heart towards the church where I grew
I didn’t hear much in the sermon today,
It's who I am.
I've always been tall.
And no, I don't play basketball or volleyball.
I am constantly stranded in a sea of small and world of petite.
Yes, my feet are large, but imagine if I had small feet.
Who am I really?
I don't even know.
I've hidden myself so well,
That not even I can find me.
I'm hidden behind a persona of courage.
A persona of happiness.
Every year the masks change.
Can you guess what makes me tick?
Let me just say, it's worse than mosquito bites or any rainy day.
No, it's not cold oatmeal or when my mom changes it from my favorite song,
God placed an angel on this Earth for me.
From day one, he protected me from many things.
While I was being born, he was in Desert Storm fighting for this great country.
But I know that I still was his main priority.
I sat in the front row so you could see my face,
but I didn't put it there for you to judge--no, not by any means or pace.
You see all I want is to be recognized
for who and what I am.
As she looked into the mirrorshe didn't see what she wanted to seeshe didn't see what appeared in magazinesshe didn't see what society considered "pretty"
