Saturday, July 19, 2008
hey!
i will no longer be posting to this blog. check out my new blog instead! loosethreadsandwritersblock.wordpress.com
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
No Regrets
Living no regrets
no hard feelings
no backward glances and shouts of “I only wish…”
I want to know each moment like and old friend
Who I can go back with,
in years to come,
and say “I only wish… I was back then”
Back when life was a story opened to whatever page I turned to
and lines read aloud
characters come and go, settings change
plots aren’t always mine to lead
just flip the pages.
Commanding what I can,
then letting what I can’t form in to pearls and roll of my back
slip in to just a sentence, a word, on a page.
Just living no regrets, seeing all for what it is
and maybe
maybe in the end I’ll find everything I was living for.
no hard feelings
no backward glances and shouts of “I only wish…”
I want to know each moment like and old friend
Who I can go back with,
in years to come,
and say “I only wish… I was back then”
Back when life was a story opened to whatever page I turned to
and lines read aloud
characters come and go, settings change
plots aren’t always mine to lead
just flip the pages.
Commanding what I can,
then letting what I can’t form in to pearls and roll of my back
slip in to just a sentence, a word, on a page.
Just living no regrets, seeing all for what it is
and maybe
maybe in the end I’ll find everything I was living for.
Dissconnect
I dawn my rose colored glasses and escape
from the world
brush it aside
The paper on the table
is only words
only words
on gray tinged news print
snapshots of nothing
Hurt, pain fear
and nothing
nothing to me
nothing of me
nothing for me
to think long thoughts of
to cry and feel the pain of many,
Black and white can't touch me
its all just pink
in a happy existence,
cant touch me
from the world
brush it aside
The paper on the table
is only words
only words
on gray tinged news print
snapshots of nothing
Hurt, pain fear
and nothing
nothing to me
nothing of me
nothing for me
to think long thoughts of
to cry and feel the pain of many,
Black and white can't touch me
its all just pink
in a happy existence,
cant touch me
The Beat
A heart beat
sounds one thump after another
charging the air with an electric feel,
that shocks the vibe and makes ground jump
bringing each beat in to reality.
A pulse
carries currents flowing in steady streams,
like spotlights that cut through the night
catching tendrils of smoke,
that grasp like hands rising up to the stratosphere.
A rhythm
brings astounding feeling
that thumps even the sleep walking alive
and makes them move their dirty feet,
and shake their dirty hair.
sounds one thump after another
charging the air with an electric feel,
that shocks the vibe and makes ground jump
bringing each beat in to reality.
A pulse
carries currents flowing in steady streams,
like spotlights that cut through the night
catching tendrils of smoke,
that grasp like hands rising up to the stratosphere.
A rhythm
brings astounding feeling
that thumps even the sleep walking alive
and makes them move their dirty feet,
and shake their dirty hair.
Sprung
The springs in the stained mattress beneath me have all sprung
No longer there to cushion me from my thoughts
My mind flips back and forth with each breath
Desperate in its attempts to explain my life
Do i regret it all?
I am not even sure.
Does anything every change?
Thinking of running away has no such promise.
The greener grass glints in the forever sun that lives on the other side of problems
Its beautiful
until i lie on the mattress on the other side of my problems,
it's springs have all sprung.
No longer there to cushion me from my thoughts
My mind flips back and forth with each breath
Desperate in its attempts to explain my life
Do i regret it all?
I am not even sure.
Does anything every change?
Thinking of running away has no such promise.
The greener grass glints in the forever sun that lives on the other side of problems
Its beautiful
until i lie on the mattress on the other side of my problems,
it's springs have all sprung.
Your day
Get out, Get out where ever you are
the world is yours to behold
waiting just for you
only you.
For you to touch, for you to feel
See it
Let it see you.
Embrace this day
It smells of fresh baked bread, green grass and cinnamon sticks
It tastes like victory
Win it
The sky is blue for only you
Live now.
the world is yours to behold
waiting just for you
only you.
For you to touch, for you to feel
See it
Let it see you.
Embrace this day
It smells of fresh baked bread, green grass and cinnamon sticks
It tastes like victory
Win it
The sky is blue for only you
Live now.
The Perfect Day
The day was slipping over the hill
turning the sky pink
radiance fading in to color,
light scattering in to one thousand pieces of dark
dissipating in to night,
the tickle of the grass damp with evening dew
runs itself around my bare leg.
I could lift up off this stone bench
and fly over the roses that smell like rain,
but an arm around my shoulder
and a familiar smell
brings me back,
make my mind spin in to thoughts of nothingness ].
The contentment plays a smile cross my lips
and spreads through out.
Shadows spill into the sky
and the perfect day
dissolves,
into the perfect night.
turning the sky pink
radiance fading in to color,
light scattering in to one thousand pieces of dark
dissipating in to night,
the tickle of the grass damp with evening dew
runs itself around my bare leg.
I could lift up off this stone bench
and fly over the roses that smell like rain,
but an arm around my shoulder
and a familiar smell
brings me back,
make my mind spin in to thoughts of nothingness ].
The contentment plays a smile cross my lips
and spreads through out.
Shadows spill into the sky
and the perfect day
dissolves,
into the perfect night.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Amazon
The water is a gray, muddy brown
The purr of an engine cutting through the clatter
the jungle is laced with danger, jumping with fear
Birds yell warnings in loud screeching voices
To the girl with the fragile furry hand clenched on her shoulder
Fuzzy face long tail, rescued long ago, comfort me,
Wide eyed drifting in the mint green boat
Come to see the rarity and embrace the mystic wonders
tall trees and bright flowers exotically dark in the murk sunshine
noises catch a whisper in her ear, with biting tone, "you don't belong"
Peach fair, blond braids, resolute eyes,
just don't cut it, vines grow to thick
Carmel skinned men, dark eyed and waiting
come to rip the pearls from her trough
and claim her to the jungle
The purr of an engine cutting through the clatter
the jungle is laced with danger, jumping with fear
Birds yell warnings in loud screeching voices
To the girl with the fragile furry hand clenched on her shoulder
Fuzzy face long tail, rescued long ago, comfort me,
Wide eyed drifting in the mint green boat
Come to see the rarity and embrace the mystic wonders
tall trees and bright flowers exotically dark in the murk sunshine
noises catch a whisper in her ear, with biting tone, "you don't belong"
Peach fair, blond braids, resolute eyes,
just don't cut it, vines grow to thick
Carmel skinned men, dark eyed and waiting
come to rip the pearls from her trough
and claim her to the jungle
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
silken shall
She pulls on her gray shall
silken and smooth
shimmering in the early morning light
Each fold in the fabric
is full of complex symmetry
and subtle flaws
The image it makes is perfection
full of life and wonder
For it is the sea
and she is the shore
Rapping the gray blue ocean around her
in the mist
and glow
of a new morning tide
silken and smooth
shimmering in the early morning light
Each fold in the fabric
is full of complex symmetry
and subtle flaws
The image it makes is perfection
full of life and wonder
For it is the sea
and she is the shore
Rapping the gray blue ocean around her
in the mist
and glow
of a new morning tide
post no. one
to any one thats listening, thanks for taking time to read this. my name is charlotte, i'm a high school student going in to grade eleven. i love to write, but i'm really bad at making time for it, so i thought that starting a blog that i could post to regularly might help. i also want to get as much feed back as i can so i can improve as much as possible.
what i write, my poetry, is like the loose threads that pull out of seams; i take them, pull at them, sometimes they're nothing, they come apart in my hand before i can capture anything worth reading. but every once in a while i find whats holding everything together. thats what i'm trying to write about; what needs to be said, what is true, and what is real.
my writers block rarely comes for lack of inspiration or not know what to put on the page next. it comes for road blocks, lost socks, commitments and the reality that there are only 24 hours in the day. blocks that come down in front of me and stop me from getting all the way to my key board. but i will try, to find time pull at all the loose threads and write about what holds everything together.
writing about writing itself, i find is one of the hardest things to do, so with that i will say thank you for listening once more and i hope that you will continue reading my blog!
what i write, my poetry, is like the loose threads that pull out of seams; i take them, pull at them, sometimes they're nothing, they come apart in my hand before i can capture anything worth reading. but every once in a while i find whats holding everything together. thats what i'm trying to write about; what needs to be said, what is true, and what is real.
my writers block rarely comes for lack of inspiration or not know what to put on the page next. it comes for road blocks, lost socks, commitments and the reality that there are only 24 hours in the day. blocks that come down in front of me and stop me from getting all the way to my key board. but i will try, to find time pull at all the loose threads and write about what holds everything together.
writing about writing itself, i find is one of the hardest things to do, so with that i will say thank you for listening once more and i hope that you will continue reading my blog!
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