Embedded Files
poems for when it rains outside.
A Strange Bottomless
I am Heavy with hoping
and Heavy with longing.
If the seas do not part for us
What does that mean?
If God is real
Why would he build me to feel this way?
There’s a strange bottomlessness
Sitting at the base of my being
Nothing will fill it
Divine is the quality of my anguish
Karma swallowing me from the inside out.
I am heavy with hoping
and heavy with longing.
**Image courtesy of Pinterest
A Harsh Color
Harsh is the color of your voice when you speak crimson.
I bite down,
Blood in my mouth & swords to swallow.
for pink flesh rips way to paradise
& gives way to something...
a prayer
a whisper
ghosts down the way
lingering between the stains and the mounds
a reminder of what was promised
when you speak crimson, it is both of us that bleed.
**Image courtesy of Pinterest
Something Stirring!
And in the mornings I feel something stirring!
sprites in my stomach
like wings, they carry me forward
the dawn of new day
Spring before Summer
a new becoming
and an unbecoming!
Something is stirring!
**Image courtesy of Pinterest
Orihime
i want
Everything but the Rain
i feel warmer in Spring
than in Summer's storm
and in the seconds I count
'til you come home
so when the Earth shakes
i cannot help but pray
i want
Everything but the Rain
----------------------o-------------------o------------------o------------------
Orihime is one of my favorite poems I have ever written. It was inspired by a Bleach chapter title that I couldn't get out of my head. I loved the way the words were arranged; Everything but the Rain. I started thinking...yes. At times, I want everything but the rain. Don't let this beginning of something beautiful fall victim to the rain. Even if I need it to grow. It is a plea & a prayer & a wish.
All of these poems speak of a sort of stasis. When it's raining outside, I often feel like going within to contemplate or recuperate. It's a pausing of sorts, the rain. And it brings with it all sorts of glooms and nuggets and treasures.
----------------------o-------------------o------------------o------------------
YOU DON'T CHOOSE
in the winter
when roses die
do they know if they’ll bloom again?
if there is life after death?
is it natural to go through such cycles?
it must hurt to lose each part of you slowly
to feel each cell shut down
and each chlorophyll lose its shade
when your petals return will they be as vibrant?
what if you like this shade of green?
or the way your roots feel in the earth?
do you fear being plucked?
should you bloom again?
what if you are too beautiful?
what if someone decides for you? whether you live or die?
what say you, rose?
won’t you answer?
i am but blood and bone
and i think you are stronger than i
to bloom despite the unknown
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse