Category: 11th

My happy dog, you inspire me to write.
How I love the way you run, walk and sleep,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about running on hills that are steep.

Let me hope I always remember.
You are invariably lively, pretty and shiny.
Your ears frost in the snow of December,
And wintertime makes you so whiny.

How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your excited eyes when you sit.
Thinking of you biting toys fills my days.
My love for you is huge and will never quit.

The inspiration calls me.
The quiet takes over.
Serenity all around

The paintbrush in my hand
I am the controller.
The inspiration calls me.

Everything unplanned
It’s a special closure.
Serenity all around.

Make them understand
Life moves slower.
The inspiration calls me.

I can expand
In my own enclosure.
Serenity all around.

Nothing in demand
I keep my composure.
The inspiration calls me.
Serenity all around.

Laying down wondering if I should…
Should I? Do I have the energy? Will it even change anything?
I need to get up and practice.
Practice makes perfect, they say…. Is that even true?
I ask myself why can’t I get up?
It’s my passion. My everything.
Why can’t I find it, I know I can do it.
My favorite thing in the world…. So why?
Then why can’t I get up?

10 years of dance.
I love it, I love everything about it but…
Motivation
Missing, but essential if I want to improve.
And I do, I do want to improve.
I force myself.
Get up and practice, GET UP, GET UP!
I finally lift myself out of bed….
I feel weighed down… I can’t do it. Can I?
But I have to…. I have to.

Time is hardly measurable,
yet we all know it persists
you cannot wrap it’s form
or legitimize it’s pain
the past is a thing that breathes,
constant to now, in vain;

You cannot hear it humming
but behind a watch hand,
deathly strumming
balanced on a string,
held by present,
like a strand;

Weeks, months, years
what’s the hurry to clock in
if the void surpasses the watch
and it’s gears?

A millennium holds each day
a host, evicted the essence of a minute
for every breath,
a ruler underway.

A little frog
croaked today
a little tree
swayed to say
a leaf that fell
crimped the tale
that solemn Daffodil
turned awfully pale
all impaired, from a single gust
natures verbal game knows
when summers gone,
when winter must.

A rake has no purpose but one
scoop up fallen leaves,
until there’s none;
it’s sweep of aid before worn out
20 years or so,
to landlords annoyance,
after all piles
the tool is just an old fellow.

Setting sun on a glistening night
The edge of my happiness, my light
You steal it
You take it
You end me
Setting sun, setting sun, dreams slowly waiting

The colors dance outside my window
Many find it beautiful, the hue, the shade, the tint
I lie in silence, awaiting the fall
Toward the ground, I watch it end

Why do you come, why do you come?
The moon shines through the blackening sky
All alone, no one to come save me from your misery
I easily fall apart; I wish I could save it

Darkness slowly listens around the corner
It stains my mind, and I question my fear
All alone, claiming morning as my peace
You are mystery
You are terror
You hold me tight

Fantasize about your perfect future
Found it almost impossible to come true
Realized it was a mere fantasy
Bound to my imagination wishing they were true
Blurred my vision with lies
Lost in my thoughts
Words cannot describe i feel
Exhausted from trying so hard
Praying you got the job

Ode to the clothes
They caught the food we dropped when we were 1
They were bought often for us cause we grew everyday when we were 5
They kept us warm when we were 9
They gained us the friends in school when we were 11
They covered the so called fat we hated when we were 13
They covered or wrists and thighs when we wanted no one to see them when we were 14
So
Ode to the clothes
As they have never left us when so many have

She dances with grace, like the sun
With that she does not fret
Like a braided ribbon that never comes undone
And a shadow with a perfect silhouette
That Smile that casts a light, yet weighs a ton
For she is one with the music, not once going offset

Gliding across the stage’s wooden field
Colorful stars illuminating her
The beauty of night is hers to wield
Roaring applause creates a vicious blur

Tears streaming a burning cheek
A performance so quaint and erratic
Her dance can make one weak
But in during all this, there is no thought, just static