Daily Strings

Being a girl is so deranged sometimes I swear. Or maybe its just being me that is deranged...Over thinking is my specialty and collaborating that with poetry just seems to make sense to me. I joined a pretty cool poetry forum today if you are into reading or writing poetry check this forum out to get good feedback on what you are writing The Poetry Forum UK

 I like this part in the forum they have 'open mic' room where you can write freestyle poetry. Seriously, I am starting to sound like such a dweeb these days but I think that is cool. With that, I think I may have to try it out on here. Seeing as I have no followers yet I have nothing to lose, maybe this will attract my first customer!

Customer to my store of poetry

So well considered

you may have said nothing.

So here is a group of poems taking random thoughts directly off the tongue:

Sarcasm  

Sign language of time
when the griddle
splashed the skin
it misunderstood the burn.

Give it a second
go back
sun flap until you
run back.

Hate this moment
you're here
but dormant
can I invest a component.

Not that you won't
but the insistence is clear
you were never here
yet the symphony played sincere.

Combats of froth
circle in your coffee
why so bland you say
in an uninteresting way.

Finally its gone
the realism lives on
for the time has come
where you no longer ride the tongue.

The Story

Oh beacon of hope

bring me back to reality

this dense beginning

is frail and dishonorable,

for the reason is

to map through this quiz

of unreachable goals

and foes.

Ride that wave until it crashes

flag the school children

across the road

show them how to foresee.

This towel has been rung out

chances have slipped

through cracks

but the chair never tips.

Oh the lights in the tunnel...

the buildings so tall...

Can simply looking and waiting

bid good luck after all?

Poetic past

A Favorite Song Snippet of Mine:

"The life we lead, will always lead us
And we pray that he, will never leave us
It's the price we pay, I guess that's the reason
Why my grandma sang, we all need Jesus."

Artist: Common
Song: Misunderstood
Album: "Finding Forever" 2007

Subtle aches

Nocturnal combines
rage within intestine
throughout
the calm remembrance.

Resisting confusion
to relinquish sea illusions
an adequate supply of fear
to conquer would be a weak soul.

Outside the realm
happiness runs
completely amid to life
a mere reflecting beauty.

Lack there of hidden cruelty.

Deep reason to feud
no time to remember
so far gone in temperament
confusion is tender.

Will the clouds separate?
will wings of birds be delicate?
Until the thrill is eloquent
resume your worthless sell of men.

Untitled 

Something passes through my veins
the moment you are present
it flourishes in my body
as my heart flutters with passion.

My toes go numb
hairs standing up
you complete my painting
with a symbol so cool

So lost without you
my world spinning when your vacant
life beyond love
a closed door tumbling down stream.

With it my skin more vibrant
my eyes an ocean blue
my hair a golden sunset
I am a colorless pallet
without you.

The Ribbon

It wraps around
a vase of pomegranate
pulses of solitude
warm the tense soul.

It's quiet somber presence
falls short of any emotion
it tangles, bends, ties, and falls
unveiling a curtain with wounds.

In bands of yellow silk
the secret is stuck
the box remains rusted
the spool remains silent.

Avoiding a collision
so no noise is made
as the flowing chiffon
is tied and cut.

One last trip missing
on a route less traveled
yet the possibility of high tide
unravels.

Over time
the lifeless battle ends
in that soft basin
of cool complacent sand.

Late night scribble or should I say Scrabble...

Silhouette

It's turning purple
this blank stare
it shouts its fears
resembling a plum
what hurts, what breathes
solitary soul
the noise it brings
is a tap
on a hollow hole

Love

I write about love

sometimes it's not quite heard

to describe it

a movie theater

empty as a school desk

in the summer

there you are

laughing and crying

dripping soda down your chin

eyes glued to the screen

rummaging vast emotions

it's quiet

your alone

leaving me

to absorb your

innocence.

Canopy

Cover me up

you piece of object

you serve no purpose

but to cover and shade

don't ask don't tell

you piece of object

your point

to serve

nothing more

to what you do

you are here for no purpose

but to blind the absurd

sun

now shut up

you stupid piece of object

do your job

remain unconscious.

 

The day you fell through the ice

unaware

of how to feel

legs numb

cheeks blue

grasp for ground

knuckles bleed

just a second ago

in a tree

providing air

just ice and life

to determine fate

so cruel so tight

help this

wreck less girl

for she has

no one in sight

but a life of

unkept secrets

lies and tales

who will she love

where will she be

if the ice cracks

a symphonic sound

will come

a flash of light

will see the sunshine in

playing with dolls

is where this begins.

 

That one Green day

iconic statues buffer in sun

through the muggy air

their war is won

mildew and copper

seem so tame and rare

as if geese were flocking

to unfit air

where skin and fake jewelery

make an unwanted affair

sit your self down

get the grass off your pants

skids on tennis shoes

elope with socks

muddy swamps

feel at ease

ripping through parking lots

where the road winds

a sign of where to stray

but no place to be.

A couple of old poems I dug out

I have been writing poetry for a few years springing up here and there with new things. Most of the time I just write things down on the go or have inspiration springing from some event in my life. These poems were written in high school (I think) as I shuffle through papers I have kept. Hand writing works better for me. I read this first poem at Barnes and Noble one night for creative writing class. It's about my grandpa Massengale. I owe all credit of this hobby to my creative writing teacher from Osseo Senior High, Mrs. Endres. If you ever read my poems, I would most definitely like to hear your feedback. Thank you.
I'm going to attempt to write more and this is my motivation to do so. Don't feel like you have to like what I write, I am simply doing this because I have to get my mind wrapped around something else besides finding a job...I appreciate all feedback and would encourage you to give me critiques on my writing. I am not a pro, and don't think I am. I just like to write.


California Dimples

He roamed through the street in his Chrysler New Yorker
Listening to AM Radio
The Baseball Game is almost over
A cigar hung from his mouth.

He looked up at the sky
At an airplane he once knew how to fly
Dreaming of those pilot days
As those wrinkly cheeks got older.

His bushy eyebrows would rise and fall
like two caterpillars inching away
As he told me stories
About how he was a spy.

He told me about the unsafe places
Where not to go and what to avoid
How he hated criminals
And how drugs and gangs were still alive.

He told me that hurricanes and earthquakes
Were natures way for telling us to feel thankful
I can hear his voice now
"Hunny cherish these days of your life for it is too short to waste."

He taught me computer games
Grandpa pilot, Sharon co-pilot
And we ventured through family albums
His eyes would gleam when speaking of our family's ancestry

With grandpa, a conversation was never really necessary
For those eyes of his spoke more than his mouth ever did.

Listening to him hum a song
It was a snap shot of his soul
How he showed unconditional love to his family
And how you knew he gave it his all.

Grandpa would blow me warm kisses goodbye
His smile had California dimples
Those creases in his cheeks
Like an arrow had shot straight through.

My Grandma doesn't notice
But she reveals him when she smiles
It's almost like he's sitting in the room with us
When she shows that sunny array that lights up the room.

If somebody were to ask me about my Grandpa
I would tell them of his stories and adventures
But there are some things in life that have to be experienced
And with Grandpa, that's just the case.


Sight

Let my eyes breathe
They will unwind
Intense secrets intertwined
Motionless clouds devour their light
Sandy beaches calm their existence
Seeing is only a motion
Sleek movements control the silk like glass
Pupils dilated under the swift breeze
Beauty, Lust, Magnificence
I see the world in translucent colors
Overlapping colors exalt my fears
Breathe
For there are no more clouds
I will succeed
My mirrors to the world
Let them guide me.

Passion

Burn
My passion
My heart beats like a drum
Thump
I will not let it over come.
It rips through my stomach
Approaching my throat
It rattles my veins
On a continuum through my brain.
Right Hemisphere Left
It takes a swing
Indulgence is near
It will never leave.
My passion
Stuck to my heart like glue
Conquer if you will
Come inside.
My steaming kettle
Deep wooded fire.
Filled with glory
Inside the rigid cracks
Of solid oak wood floors
Where my passion resides.


Air

Telegraphic sight.
Enduring night.
The bird takes its flight.
To fall into a land
with no delight.
Gaseous fumes.
Soot and tar.
Butterfly blooms
Hands are charred.
I fall each night.
Into a feathery bed.
They swipe my cheek
Oh so sweet.
My nose scrunches
Foresees old grunges
Punch
It will come back
Punch Punch
Let the gravity in the air
Take over
It will win
Conquer bug
til' you feel you've sinned
God I miss the
Sunlight.

Well there's my push. Time to get writing more.