Category Archives: Poetry

An outsiders kaleidoscope

imagesHeart-of-kaleidoscope

 

 

 

 

Life is adventurous as an outsider

We ourselves will see the black and white matter

But in that gray someone else will see the color

We want the next big thing

The next hero

Inventor…

Doctor…

Lawyer…

And when we can’t accomplish the nearly unique impossible, we lose our adventure

Where’s our color?kaleidoscope-blue-liquid-green-smoke-radial-circle

Maybe our life isn’t bland but we are gray

It’s our perspective that needs to be adjusted

A kaleidoscope of possibilities

We don’t have to make an impact on the world

We just need to make an impact on ourselves

Adjust our colors and line them up in the light

Find the pattern that shines the most in your life

And occasionally turn the tube around and see from a different perspective

Because life is always adventurous as an outsider

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China

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I may crack and shatter from time to time

But it’s you who puts me back together again

Polishes me and keeps me stored safe

You accept my chips and dings

Even admires them at times

But its because of you that I can still shine bright from time to time

Come and Go

People come and go

Some are cigarette breaks, others are forest fires

A stench lingering on fingers and breath

Or chaotic havoc ruining lives and beauty

Both deteriorating

Making it hard to breathe

Taking up valuable oxygen

And killing innocent souls

 

Like highway commuters

Yellow one way

Red another way

Coming and going

Smoke swept away out of rolled down windows into other lanes

or

Passing fires that darken skies with ash

And fills travelers vehicles with restrictive breaths and smokey coughs

Extinguish and perish

Water and live

Classroom

AUTHORS NOTE: This poem was written for a 400-800 word dark poetry contest. I wrote it in class in high school  and certain little things inspired me. I’m not that dark of a person but I tried.

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Coiled around my neck.

Oxygen from my windpipe cut off.

Alienated and ostracized.

I’m stuck in this secluded area,

left to wander the vast spaces of my mind.

I hear the screams.

I smell the fear.

The goose bumps crawling up my skin like spiders.

I was once a fighter.

A fighter for love.

A fighter for freedom.

A fighter for life.

Yet now I struggle barely holding on.

Hold on loosely but don’t let go.

Slip just far enough away to escape the clutches of

your enemies.

Eyes bulging.

Lips turning blue.

Purple replaces the pale color of the skin in my face.

She once took to the bottle to drown her sorrows,

and now she goes to the rock to keep her mind off the

taunts and mocks.

They say LISTEN and SILENT are spelled with the same

letters.

Yet to object to this theory she knew better.

The pangs of distress have followed her throughout her

years.

Now each thing that has disturbed her comes out through

her tears.

The world is said to be round but what would happen if

it was flat again and we could just walk off the edge.

The edge of existence.

The edge of reality.

The edge of our dreams.

Who chases those anymore?

Can we still reach the stars?

Is the sky the limit?

Shot down by friends and family.

She’s bleeding inside out.

What’s black is now white.

Muffled terrors,

and shattered mirrors.

Her sun covered over and hidden from the world.

Life shriveled up.

Nothing coming or going.

Nail beds bitten down to the numbs.

Skin battered and turned to black and blue.

The air is stagnant.

It prickles her skin.

Just the feeling of her clammy hands have made her

shutter within.

Earth underneath quaking.

Knees bending and shaking.

Falling to the damp wet tile floor clutching tight the

base of her small torso.

No place to run.

Shackled down to reality.

Dreams to nightmares.

Wishes only coins in the fountain.

11:11 no longer makes sense.

The depths of the inception of this lone place

overwhelms the deception of this world.

Lines blurry.

Details forgotten.

Lucid thoughts now clouded with fear.

Everything she does is scrutinized.

All her talents no longer laudable.

No longer able to evoke sweet thoughts.

This intentional emotion of entrapment brought on by

the depression that follows her throughout the day.

Reality imaginative and put to the stage…

She’s actually sitting in class just thinking and in

her book it’s time to turn the page.

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Just Peachy

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You can be the ripest and juiciest peach, but there is always going to be somebody that doesn’t like peaches.

And it doesn’t fall far from the tree either.

As cliché as that saying is, it’s true.

We all are a little messed up from that fall too.

The dents and scars.

The soft spots and and bruises.

Perfectly imperfect yet all misplaced and misconstrued.

Some of us fuzzy.

Some of us a little discolored.

Some of us too soft and others too hard.

Some of us may even turn into blossoms.

Misshapen and each peach a little different we often forget we can’t judge by appearance.

Because once you finally get a taste of that peach… You never know.

You might like it.

Don’t be afraid to savor that taste or to spit it out.

Gold

 

 

5980084-208-k921370Sea of black.

Gold glittering here and there.

Chasing the flicker,

Grasping nothing but air.

Empty handed she walks away with nothing.

The mind can play tricks,

It’s not really there.

Hands slap together in desperation to grab onto something.

Pull back so as not to grab the wrong thing.

It’s red, hot, and glittering, yet you are mistaken.

Too late from the smoldering flame, hands burning and shaking.

Scars run up and down arms; a reminder.

A story.

A fate.

A destiny.

A nightmare.

A haunting.

A loss…

Hope lost and there’s a small spark.

Turn around just in time to see the glittering mark.

Shining from afar.

Don’t run too fast it will brighten up your scar.

Yet lighten the scar and fade the mark.

Not too much longer and you won’t be in the dark.

Bodily Words

I wear the words I write.

Hidden under a veil and sheath from reality.

Not much impact but a small significance in me.

A few words scripted on my body,

They mean so much.

As the day wears on and the sun inches from over head and back unit the ground the words fade.

Everything eventually fades.

Where they fade to is all based on what we believe…

They fade into the skin.

Into my blood stream and circulate through the body.

It’s a part of me.

A never ending cycle.

It may not be spoken aloud but inside my body the words ring sound and clear.

They echo from top to bottom.

Fingertip to fingertip.

Little toe to big toe.

Heart to brain…

Heart…

To…

Brain…

Which one will keep those words safe?

Is it even safe?

Am I sane?

I bleed those words.

They fall wet from my eyes and run down my cheeks creating salty streaks.

Freedom of speech.

It’s not free if a few words can cost so much.

Ennui

5118711-208-k855901Motions

Actions

Numbness

Ennui

Can’t feel anything

A spark flutters in my eyes every now and then,

It’s not enough to keep the flame glowing.

I’m a shadow in a dark world

Just moving in and out of the picture.

Throw in confusion into the mixture.

Routine.

Schedule.

Just follow it and people will think things are fine.

No one will notice the glare in your eyes,

The glossy look,

The stare in the distance,

The longing,

The yearning.

Moving on with head facing forward.

Just keep walking.

Don’t stop.

Don’t turn back.

Wearing the colors of my sorrow.

Suffering through the pain.

I want to stay in this dark world where everything is the same.

Bare Rain

It’s raining outside as I walk in silence. The rain is pouring down on my head. It rolled down my arms and dripped off my fingertips. It falls on my head and soaks into my soft blonde hair making it heavy. It rolled down my little nose and plopped onto my lips as I taste its fresh pureness. Thoughts and promises whirling through my mind as my ear buds blast an5673992-208-k929242d Imagine Dragons sing to me. As I get home I stripped myself and let my damp clothes fall off my frail body and onto the floor. All I want to do is get in my un-made bed under the covers and sleep some more. Maybe I’ll wake up and things will be good again. Instead I stand there dripping as goose bumps form on my bare tiny body. My knees buckle like they used to do, but now I don’t have someone to catch me. I just fall to the floor with my face in my hands. Until next time…

Stampede

Their throat is an opened buried place.

A smooth tongue they will use.

There is nothing trustworthy in their mouth.6095360-208-k463783

Yet you want approval to surround you.

My very bones have been disturbed.Standing in front of a stampede of emotions

My soul in yearning.

My heart aching.

My tears make my divan overflow.

My pillow in the early hours of the morning soaking wet.

Salty and damp.

Elephants; grief.

Zebras; anger.

Gazelles; sorrow.

Rhinoceros; fierceness.

Giraffes; shame.

Hooves coming crashing down on the moist dirt.

Trample me and push me down into the earth.

Buried.

Encroached.

Emotions shoved into the ground forever lost.

The animal inside me clawing its self out.

Cage it or let it run free?