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Posts published in “Year: 2015”

Every time

February 25, 2015

Every time

Every time we
Get that
Little bit angry, we
Start to fume,
Start to yell,
Start to
Take it all inside.

Every time we
Get that
Lip quiver goin’, we
Start to tear,
Start to fumble,
Start to
Act like we’re OK.

Every time we
Look forward to
That moment on the park bench,
Sitting, resting
Hands on laps, just a-
Hoping we’d move our palms over,
Just a-
Hoping we’d get over that
Little tussle, and
We always will, we always will
Give in to
The future
And
Let the past go by.

Who is this

February 25, 2015

Who is this
Beside me, holding
Tight a hand
Left wondering
Who is this
Beside me, holding
Tight a hand
Left wondering
If we could reach the park bench,
Grey hairs and stares into our past,
You sitting beside me,
Holding tight a hand
Left wondering if life gets any better,
But, I doubt it ever could.

Tap-tappings on the floor,

February 25, 2015

Tap-tappings on the floor,
With whiskers led by thought
Of acknowledgement, back
To where they’ve been before:
Beside bed, paws up, hoping
To be part of his plans,
A sightless pandering for more.

Halloween

February 25, 2015

With reluctance, cold & slender, to others’ abodes did I surrender, stricken, feasting on the gourd’s sweet’ innards,

Quotes Seven

February 25, 2015

Quotes Seven

Everyone is a story, waiting to unravel for you.

All of life can be summed up in the words written about a cup of melting ice and the remnants of a drink.

A woman cares most about her extremities, where she is furthest from herself and closest to who she wants to be.

A man worries most about their stature, what is natural or gained/lost and matters least when all alone.

Success is collaborative, though recognition usually falls on a single set of shoulders—not the tallest or strongest, but the most talkative.

We often look past the execution to the role being executed. If we appreciate the execution performed by others, we learn from them, absorbing tidbits of their story to make our own more vibrant. Even the most disgruntled should execute with aplomb, daring another to question their performance and the results brought through determination; a new role awaits us all if we remain professional, regardless of the task.

Your words fill volumes, but my thoughts can only fill a page.

They’re the type to mention they stayed somewhere exotic for 2 weeks, withholding that it took 4 years.

“We,” when one.

We poets are just screaming babes with no other means to emote; few of us learn to talk, and far fewer learn to form coherent sentences.

The hardest part of our lives, waking up, is also the most rewarding.

Fell on my sword

February 25, 2015

Fell on my sword
To have silence
But all these mourners
Wake me

I fell in love with an idea you can’t live up to but it’s okay because I’m the same for you

That itch

February 25, 2015

That itch

When time come slowly, I
I just try get out its way;
When time go faster, I
I just try remember’ when…

When time come slowly, I
I just try get out its way;
When time go faster, I
I just try remember’ when…

When that itch come, slowly on,
I just try get words in order, right;
When that itch come, faster now,
I just try get words down at all.

Love is what you need, wheth’ you
Wheth’ you know you need or no’; wheth’ you
Wheth’ you know a need’s not want, but
But you know the difference hard t’see.

when the silence of the mouth.txt

February 25, 2015

when the silence of the mouth
leads to shoutings of a mind,
may you not be lost in thought,
but found by word,
on page or tongue–
those most liberating ways
of untangling ourselves.

musings & scribbles