Collision

Lights flash
Horn honks vicious howl
Not one gash
But I could use a towel

Rain pours
Glass glitters bright
Not my fault but yours
Hold back with all my might

Bones ache
Bruises offer pain
A future at stake
Damaged in the rain


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Too much of a good thing

Okay, this post will involve a poem, but first I just had a thought. I've been spending lots of time with sorority sisters during recruitment, and we just welcomed new girls into the fold during bid day. I'm super excited to get to know the new girls and realizing more and more that this is my last year. Spending all this time with sisters is wonderful except that it reminds me of the one I can't see, my own. This poem is for all of them...

Feel instant welcome
Find lasting friend
Face fears together
Fear nothing in the end.

Sunset

The world greets a believer
of all that makes you stop
take it all in
and feel at peace.

Worries fall away from souls
of wanders and wise
calm comences
and emotions cease.

Sunset settles searcher
stops rapid beat
until tomorrow comes
until the sun peeks.




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Working.... With enjoyment

I have to say, the first week of my new job was pretty boring. But, that was the intro. It's totally awesome now! I'm writing a newsletter, which I know isn't fun for a lot of people, but I love to write. I think I'm in a small group of people who are happy putting pen to paper, even for the occasional research paper with an interesting topic. That interesting topic thing doesn't happen very often, but hey, it does happen. Anyway, I like my job a lot now, and the poem wheels are turning. So, here goes...

Keys pressed
In order that builds
Words trapped in mind
Come forth
Through fingers
Button clicks
As shapes are formed
Into colors of ideas
As I'm working
On enjoyment.


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I've been wishing I could bask in the warmth of Central park with my sister. I miss her and N.Y. Any way, I got inspired and wrote a poem.

This poem is titled "Central park"

The guys and girls
Conversate in the grass,
The penniless souls
Play bongos and brass,
And the yoga master
Practices his art,
Showing off to girls
With eyes for muscle not heart,
Pidgeons and squirrels
Go about their day,
Ignoring the frisbees
And children at play,
The halfmad hobos
Peddle trash for a buck,
Street venders sell icecream
When the sun brings them luck,
The bicycle taxis
Rake in dough when it rains,
And the Indian dancer
Breaks all the mind's chains,
The carousel sings
It's carnival tune,
And breeze stifles heat
In the middle of June,
The nannies earn pay
With their charges in tow,
On weekends in New York
It's the place to go.




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Have you ever felt accomplished, then suddenly felt the complete opposite? Well, that's how I felt this week. So, here's a poem to shed some light on these feelings...

Light bathes me
Dark at bay,
Freedom, joy
A kid at play,

Sudden burst
Of building storm,
Not prepared
If funnel forms,

Swept up
In hopless gray,
Wonder if
I'll see brighter day.







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So, I have to write multiple research papers and I'm not happy. Research papers are the one of the most boring things in the world. Here's a poem to demonstrate.

Cold, dark corner of outer space
Silence not peaceful in this case,
Stranded in web of useless notes
Left to navigate no maps, no boats,
So I sit here
Losing hope,
So I sit here
Trying to cope.


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I hope my first poem inspired someone to think differently or even to write a poem of their own. The poem was born while I was watching my pet gecko. This just goes to show ideas for poems can come from anything. Many of my poems develop from events that shape who I am, but some encompass an instant. One small happening. You can find content in a host of places. Just look and be inspired. Maybe this poem will help...

Discarded
Overgrown grass
hides from view
a boat
left to rot,
to dissolve into the clay,

the words on its bow
become unreadable
with time
weather and
chip, fading

where someone neglected to paint,
and memories seem to linger
in the splintered oar.

The skeleton of shattered oak
cannot speak
of what lies
within,

whether water once made rich
the dry, cracked wood,
or dust found a home
at the beginning
is unknown

explanations hide beneath time
and silence,
with transgressions committed
by the boat
in time
past,

what was is
unknown
to this lonely place
where the boat
has made its grave

for neither nails, nor boards,
nor grassy blanket
remember what came
before.



All of this came from a glance of a boat on the side of the road.

The First...

Here goes nothing. I'm embarking on an adventure. An adventure that I welcome with open hands and a poem...

Trapped
What are you hiding
in those amber eyes
what lurks beneath
the ridges of your skin
the soft underbelly
warmed
by white sand,
what happened
to bring you here
who banished you from your mother
and held you captive,
were there others before the woman
who sold you to me
or was she the first,
are you angry
that I keep you here
and strip you
of your defenses
or happy that I chose you
saved you
from somewhere far worse than this.
If I let you out
will you stay
or will you flee,
each day you’re trapped
is a day I save you
in my eyes
you are already free
you eat and sleep and play


with no fear
no predator
to fend off
no worries
you don’t have to work
to survive,
you may be trapped
in glass and plastic
and air,
but you understand
just like me
that freedom
doesn’t matter
if you’re happy.