Category: 07th

Growing Old

Growing Old

Today I’m a teenager
The freedom
the moodiness
falling in love
It all feels so real now
Sitting at home wanting to cry for random reasons
Like someone eating all the cereal
My feelings vary
Like a roller coaster of emotions

Today I’m an adult
Enjoying life
mad at life
annoyed at life
Nothing ever stays the same
You will feel one thing
Then it changes
In the matter of a second
Out on the town enjoying a nice dinner
All the sudden
I am crying my eyes out
Never knowing why

Today I’m in my middle ages of life
Becoming old
everything has changed now
Getting on to my kids
Going to back in time
When I would argue
Or
Not do something I was told
Then my mom would say…
I will understand one day
It’s all starting to make sense after all
Like a million pieces coming together
Making my life that much easier

Today I’m a grandma
Feeling like I’m no longer in control of my life
Sitting at home
using a cane
taking naps every 30 minutes
My body chooses
not me
Feeling like I’m happy inside
But not knowing what’s happening on the outside

Soon I will not be with you
Never knowing when
Never knowing how
It’s not up to me
It’s not up to you
It’s not up to anyone

edge of the world

at the edge of the world, i sit,
my voice was restrained,
and riddled with pain.

flashing back was a trife,
pressing slowly, suffocatingly.

at the edge of the world, i sit,
waiting slowly,
for nothing to come.

with my ending come near,
the flowers wilted in pain,
it echoes my agony.

at the edge of the world, i sit,
digging my nails into the ground,
scarring the earth with a scorching pain.

i carefully peer into the open world,
where ruins of skyscrapers,
and shattered skylines lay low.

at the edge of the world, i finally stand,
and with that ending note, i fell,

your embrace was long gone,
now replaced with the void’s,
but i felt warmer than i ever did.

The City of The Raven

A single raven flew through the inky-black night sky
Swaying around the dimly glowing streetlights
Flying nowhere
Gliding around
Darting down
Reaching up
Twisting
Twirling
In the chilly air

Rapidly he slows down and perches atop a pole
Looking down at the city, full of fluorescent, colored lights fills his eyes
Buildings blur together making a rainbow of light
Not an odd rainbow, one very common, yet still as magnificent as could be

The raven sits comfortably, not a sound coming from him
This site always changes the way he views the new world, a different kind of beauty.
Every day he is presented with the gift of this seat being able to see the world
With a whole new vision.

Every Breath

I shake the trees taking their leaves
Scattering them on the streets
I blow, pulling someone’s hair
as they walk their dog, stepping on the fall leaves
I shift turning the wind sock
changing directions,
choosing the way
I turn in circles like a puppeteer making the leaves dance
I tiptoe and tap, sneaking silently about
whispering through the night
knocking on doors
I slip and slither
pulling and prying
Twisting,
Changing,
Taking,
I push the clouds
I never stop, I’m always
Going
Flowing
Grabbing
and moving
sometimes in full gusts
That howl and swirl
sometimes soft and light
Like an evening breeze by the beach
Salt floating through the skies
I am calm and quiet, adding mood to a deep night
I am loud and stormy, screaming muffled noises just to get attention
I can create
And destroy
I have many sides,
Many moods,
I am only a small detail in a big world
Something to see but never to understand
I am always changing
Always looking on and over
For you

An Upside Down World

In an upside down world
On an upside down face
A smile was there
But a frown took its place

Someone important had gone
To a far away land
Where she was left struggling
Not able to grasp a hand

When she went away,
Any sort of happiness had gone too
With not a clue on what to do.
She was gone as quick as light

Now the only thing left is night
No brightness able to slip through
The shards of our hearts. Broken
The world felt empty the hope it’s a trick, a taboo

Hostile

Her slight eye glancing at me, ready,
My feet in thin brown boots,
Slide fluently into their rusty position
Across the reflective wood beneath us,
She takes her stance with silence
The wind killing all sprouts of new conversation

My fingers slide over my soft, gold streaked hair
The very touch of the sleak blade,
My hand jumps back
The feeling of burning white fire coursing through my fingertips
Hidden by the shadows of my concern
And the black coals of regret filling the air
My twinge of doubt streaks across my face
The tinges of feeling sliding out,
Into the world forming the thick grey cloud
Silhouetting my body

I tug at my free hand the feeling of a million tons at my side lifting
I force the thought away once more,
Clenching my fist into the pain of needles in flesh
Letting my eyelids close,
I fear that tears of lost pain will come
My focus on the new enhanced ones
The fire in my fingers inflates as I reach,
Sliding the blade from my back

I take a cool deep breath,
The cloud pulsing with me
I rush toward her feeling the cold wind at my cheeks
The quiet birds chirping
The green grass blowing
The soft beauty
The intense pain

With each slash of searing pain that comes with my wield
The damp clouds follow,
Leaving only the devoured corps of my will
Consuming all known
Consuming all beauty
Only letting me pass without forgiveness,
Hostile

The Ego of the Sky

The sun’s peak is over,
It fades into a downfall,
It glances over the horizon to take one last look,
But it catches the moon approaching its crown.

Oh so jealous it makes the sun,
Out of spite, the sun lingers on the horizon,
It paints the sky with oranges and pinks to overshadow the moon.

The sun thinks highly of itself knowing it won the battle,
But it must disappear until morning, so the sky fades to dark and the sun is gone,
Until tomorrow the moon rules the sky.

Windows

Windows,
Openings into a new world,
A place better than your own,
A place that might deceive your mind.

Windows,
Shattered by sound,
Shattered by rock,
Shattered by the world.

Windows,
Trashed,
Hopelessly lost,
Why try when you will always be replaced?

Windows,
Things that can be covered physically,
That will always be open mentally,
Built with fear of being seen,
Paranoia can take over in the mind of the ruminator.

Windows,
Reflecting,
Self and light,
Shattering the perception of who you pretend to be,
Allowing you to see yourself as you truly are.

The Arctic

The day brings frosty boots,
Chirping birds,
Hopping rabbits,
Twinkling lights on trees,
Smoke flowing from chimneys,
And houses dusted in white.

The night brings darkness,
The only light coming from the sky,
Purple and green snakes slither above,
Specks of gleaming dots sparkle around them,
They continue through the snow and disappear into the day,
Only to reappear when the sky goes dark.