Wednesday, September 7, 2011

That Which Never Dies


So... there I was doing my sociology homework, listening to pandora... when all of a sudden I heard a song that made me think about the very worst thing that I believe could happen to me.  This is the song:



and then I wrote this...
That Which Never Dies


The last rose falls from her hand onto his grave
~
It falls
For what seems
To be


Forever


She cannot pull herself away
She will not.


Not yet


She cannot pull her eyes away from the words:
Lift your eyes, do not cry.
You’ll awake one day and feel no sorrow.
Trust in me, my love, do not fret.
Even death cannot pull us apart.


The sun shining around her makes little a difference


She reads the words and yet,
she is frozen.


The fresh green grass of spring has rooted into her heels,


Her heart,
She can no longer feel.


The slight breeze that dances through the blooming pink Magnolias that line the cemetery


While her eyes close
And her lungs collapse
Tearing her down onto her knees




Lift your eyes, do not cry…
Even death cannot pull us apart.
Please, my Dearest,
Please do not cry.
Death cannot kill that which never dies


Monday, September 5, 2011

Great Poem to read and share =]


You Are Tired (I Think) by e.e. cummings
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
- e.e. cummings

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Living is Believing

The brilliant gold sun shines down through the open canopy over head
Perhaps it’s how you look at me with your smiling eyes but I think that I’ve just fallen quite in love with you perhaps I am wrong though and we’re merely drifting together in a deep sleep that we may never awaken from  I do not know but I do like to imagine that you are my one and only

The one and only boy who cared to open the door to my heart and close it behind him, letting the blood rush through him then back out through my body as if no one had entered at all and rather he was there the whole time

Do not mind my talking to myself about you especially in my referencing you as a “boy” when now you are a man although I should tell you that we have grow a large bit since we met  since we first watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail and had thumb wars until our thumbs were red and your brother was too confused to stay in the room

Perhaps our time will never run out I do like to think so when I spend my free time alone in my head I do truly wish that you could join me some time Perhaps when our time runs out our minds will all conjoin and we’ll be able to explore each others’ thoughts dreams hopes wishes imaginations

Who knows

There is so much that we never will understand about why God made us and if he really is out there I do know that I have a hard time believing sometimes and that you find yourself lost at moments such as now but don’t give up my love you have to keep searching for the truth because of all the things that I don’t know I know that us meeting and falling in love is not a coincidence but an act of what should be 

Perhaps we are just repeats of people before us  Perhaps we have fallen in love hundreds of thousands of millions of times

Who knows

But what if someone messes up the cycle oh I do not know perhaps that is just impossible  Perhaps we are just stuck on this Earth until we’ve gotten in right  Oh that truly would be glorious now wouldn’t it

Me and you you and me exactly as we’re supposed to be in love and alive ALIVE can you believe it

I simply cannot

Perhaps we never will
I will not give up searching though
Not as long as I believe in you

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Letters to a Ghost

Dear Ghost,

I have been sitting at this desk thinking of you for what seems to have been days.
You used to tell me that my habits were unhealthy
but here I am going about this all over again.

I won't lie,
I miss you.

Now our visits are refined to the short time that dreams provide
and you are not who you used to be.

You are a ghost
whose face is fading
whose voice has gone mute with each visit


Dear Ghost,

Not once did I think that when you left it would be forever.
We once were best friends
and now you are just a fond memory to look back on

I do not understand why I cannot move on.
I am not mourning yet I am not in denial...
There is a place in my heart that believes you are here

Dear Ghost,

The terms that you left on were terrible
                To say the least

You had been my best friend and my mentor,
I had once depended on you for so very much

When you left,
It felt like a hole had been shot straight into my heart.

I have always wondered if you felt the same,
Like you were given up on.

Perhaps I should have stayed
Instead of packing up and crying out for someone else to save me
But I was young and you had changed over your years of heartache.

Dear Ghost,

I pray for you whenever I can.
I believe that if you were meant for greatness
but never let greatness have a chance.

You were angry
I was impressionable.

Mom and Dad didn't understand how to save you...
        No one did.
You have been a ghost to me since long before you left.

I just liked to cling onto the belief that you would come back
but I now realize that I was wrong.
You really are never going to walk through the front door, worn with time and memories,
To have returned for good.

You are a ghost.
I cannot move on.

Dear Ghost,

Everyday grows longer than the last.
I have told Mom and Dad about the pains that I feel every night before I close my eyes,
How I believe there is a hole in my heart and that no matter how much I love him, the spot was meant for you.

I wish that I could take it back,
all the mean things that I said...
take it all back.

I miss you.

and love you.

Please, promise me that one day you will come home. Will you please?

With as much love as I have left in me,
Kirsten ~ your waiting sister.

P.S. If I am asleep when you come in, wake me up and let me know that you are home. Let me know that it is not yet another dream.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Growing Up

    -Lost in what seems to be a daydream, the world surrounding becomes a blurry haze

...

Flowers, the wild ones,
bloom as a rainbow of brilliant colors collecting in the sun
as the slight breeze tickles their leaves
Autumn is soon approaching

Come what may,
I welcome it warmly
though Winter, I ask kindly of you
to please, whatever it is that you do,
promise that you won't hurt my fellow trees too much
in your cold wrath of vengeance

Though the heavy blankets of soft snow
are beautiful for the time,
Sometimes I do think,
"Why must you punish us so?"
For all that we do is live and let live
You cannot expect us to lay down so easily
Only to die

                      -Awakening in the midst of the twilight hours, the crickets begin their orchestra with the birds as their flutes. 

I blink not once, but twice
taking in this break of reality

Then let my mind drift off once more...

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Endless Thoughts (casual sestina)

Time there is to find what I seek
Though when that will be
Oh, I cannot think
I can only wait and wonder
And dream of when it will come
While days and nights pass on much too slow

Reality unbecoming, my thoughts moving slow
and then slower as if playing hide and seek.
However, soon enough, to me they will come
Or at least, that is how it should be
I can only wait and wonder
In a poor attempt to think

Oh, if only I could think!
But under my own feet, I am slow
To hope and then to wonder
I am looking for something, to seek
the answer to the question "who should I be?"
I pray that one day, to me the answer will come.

Yet, who will come
when I can no longer think
I am who the world decided me to be
Developing in the midst of a summer so slow
My eyes cannot seek
the answers, though I wonder!

Wandering while I wonder
"Is this all there is to come?"
There are so many answers that I seek
yet, to be honest, I can only think
that with the days moving by so slow
that this is how it is meant to be.

If not, then there must be
another who would venture quietly to wonder
with me as we walk, ever so slow
hoping that there will be more to come
more for us to think
This cannot be all that we seek

Alas, a slow day is all that it will be
While we seek all that is but a wonder
as we think "is this all there is to come?"

Saturday, July 30, 2011

To Summer Day

In these moments there is peace
-the kind of peace that you read about in stories,
            usually fairytales or something of that sort

The dark green blades of grass coupled with those of the dead
dancing in the heavy breeze
While the evergreens laugh with me
   -Waving back and forth

My good old Belle,
loyal as she is
lays sleepily beside me...
     the red bricks warming her belly
While her ears perk up to the
Wind chimes singing with the birds

I can only wait and wonder
how long this peace will last

Oh, to my summer days,
how much I shall soon
miss you

Unity

 Each  and every  day we grow older Our wrinkles grow deeper Our hair thins greys and falls out Each  and every  day We grow My heart aches ...