(trying to recreate my previous blog so I'm just moving the poems from there to here, hope it's not too confusing...)
November '07
It seems as if this was inevitable though I never thought it would come. Never gave any credence to your reputation after the “getting to know you” was done. Didn’t think it would end this quietly with your silence ringing loud and true. Thought you’d be a bigger person and tell me the truth in you. Sitting here wondering if all of the feelings were a lie. If the way I made you feel really meant this wouldn’t die. Saddened by the lack of words, the inaction and the despair. Sleepless nights, drowned in sorrow while trying to come up for air. Lifted you when you were down, loved you carelessly in spite of it all. I am to blame for giving blindly, taking the leap and causing the fall. Hollow heart, empty veins, dried up tears as I reach the end. Hard to believe you broke your promise to be truthful to your friend.
© 2007
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Broken
(trying to recreate my previous blog so I'm just moving the poems from there to here, hope it's not too confusing...)
November '07
It seems as if this was inevitable though I never thought it would come. Never gave any credence to your reputation after the “getting to know you” was done. Didn’t think it would end this quietly with your silence ringing loud and true. Thought you’d be a bigger person and tell me the truth in you. Sitting here wondering if all of the feelings were a lie. If the way I made you feel really meant this wouldn’t die. Saddened by the lack of words, the inaction and the despair. Sleepless nights, drowned in sorrow while trying to come up for air. Lifted you when you were down, loved you carelessly in spite of it all. I am to blame for giving blindly, taking the leap and causing the fall. Hollow heart, empty veins, dried up tears as I reach the end. Hard to believe you broke your promise to be truthful to your friend.
© 2007
November '07
It seems as if this was inevitable though I never thought it would come. Never gave any credence to your reputation after the “getting to know you” was done. Didn’t think it would end this quietly with your silence ringing loud and true. Thought you’d be a bigger person and tell me the truth in you. Sitting here wondering if all of the feelings were a lie. If the way I made you feel really meant this wouldn’t die. Saddened by the lack of words, the inaction and the despair. Sleepless nights, drowned in sorrow while trying to come up for air. Lifted you when you were down, loved you carelessly in spite of it all. I am to blame for giving blindly, taking the leap and causing the fall. Hollow heart, empty veins, dried up tears as I reach the end. Hard to believe you broke your promise to be truthful to your friend.
© 2007
Cleansing
(trying to recreate my previous blog so I'm just moving the poems from there to here, hope it's not too confusing...)
October '07
The knife lies still on my hand
No trembling no shaking no nerve
The blood smells fresh from the veins
The flesh is ready to serve
The sorrow seeps out of my body
As relief takes its place
The picture no longer in mind
The man no longer with face
The tears that stain my cheeks
No longer feel like my own
The burden is leaving forever
Not needing to act like I’m grown
The cuts are small and petite
Resembling my very own features
The number of them is impressive
Hundreds of bright little red creatures
The major cut in the chest
Will leave forever a gaping hole
The place where my heart once resided
Emptiness now its number one goal
The pretty has fallen behind
Having found nothing useful to do
My hand is steady and calm
As it cleanses itself from you
© 2007
October '07
The knife lies still on my hand
No trembling no shaking no nerve
The blood smells fresh from the veins
The flesh is ready to serve
The sorrow seeps out of my body
As relief takes its place
The picture no longer in mind
The man no longer with face
The tears that stain my cheeks
No longer feel like my own
The burden is leaving forever
Not needing to act like I’m grown
The cuts are small and petite
Resembling my very own features
The number of them is impressive
Hundreds of bright little red creatures
The major cut in the chest
Will leave forever a gaping hole
The place where my heart once resided
Emptiness now its number one goal
The pretty has fallen behind
Having found nothing useful to do
My hand is steady and calm
As it cleanses itself from you
© 2007
Flowers
(trying to recreate my previous blog so I'm just moving the poems from there to here, hope it's not too confusing...)
October '07
I waited for flowers
On the first day of spring
When I didn’t hear the words
After I thought you felt this thing
But none came
I waited for flowers
After the painful heart break
After the crying and the apology
When I thought this was at stake
But none came
I waited for flowers
As a congratulation
Hoped for a hug to go with it
Along with the infatuation
But none came
I waited for flowers
To prove to me a revelation
That things would change
That you’d renewed your dedication
But none came
The hope is now gone
Strangled forever from my eyes
Waited for things never to come
Looked for the truth in a bed of lies
I wait for flowers now
Arms folded, silent and brave
Perhaps now you will send them
To sit atop my fresh grave
© 2007
October '07
I waited for flowers
On the first day of spring
When I didn’t hear the words
After I thought you felt this thing
But none came
I waited for flowers
After the painful heart break
After the crying and the apology
When I thought this was at stake
But none came
I waited for flowers
As a congratulation
Hoped for a hug to go with it
Along with the infatuation
But none came
I waited for flowers
To prove to me a revelation
That things would change
That you’d renewed your dedication
But none came
The hope is now gone
Strangled forever from my eyes
Waited for things never to come
Looked for the truth in a bed of lies
I wait for flowers now
Arms folded, silent and brave
Perhaps now you will send them
To sit atop my fresh grave
© 2007
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
In His Arms
In his arms it's all ok
In his arms I won't be afraid
In his arms I long to be
In his arms is all I see
In his arms the world revolves
In his arms the pain dissolves
In his arms is safe and warm
In his arms I'm sheltered from harm
In his arms he holds me tight
With all his love and all his might
© 2008
In his arms I won't be afraid
In his arms I long to be
In his arms is all I see
In his arms the world revolves
In his arms the pain dissolves
In his arms is safe and warm
In his arms I'm sheltered from harm
In his arms he holds me tight
With all his love and all his might
© 2008
Good Girl Gone Bad
Understanding what’s been done
Analyzing what’s taken place
Thinking of the good I’ve done
And the lies written on their face
Good girls lose a lot in life
Always doing what seems right
Bad girls get what good girls want
Even when they put up a fight
What’s the reward of being good
Lies, betrayals and make believe
Bad girls don’t care but still they get
What the good girls are willing to give
Living for themselves and no one else
Seems like a life that’s better than this
Tired of acting the way that’s expected
When the return is hit and miss
It may be that what I’m saying
Is misunderstood and considered sad
I’m just aware that being good
Don’t pay as well as being bad
© 2008
Analyzing what’s taken place
Thinking of the good I’ve done
And the lies written on their face
Good girls lose a lot in life
Always doing what seems right
Bad girls get what good girls want
Even when they put up a fight
What’s the reward of being good
Lies, betrayals and make believe
Bad girls don’t care but still they get
What the good girls are willing to give
Living for themselves and no one else
Seems like a life that’s better than this
Tired of acting the way that’s expected
When the return is hit and miss
It may be that what I’m saying
Is misunderstood and considered sad
I’m just aware that being good
Don’t pay as well as being bad
© 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Writer's writers
I am in the mood for poetry. But somehow not my own. I find solace in the words of others today and so I turn to this old favorite book of mine Soft Songs. Saundra Sharp is one of my favorite. I am reading a poem that has stuck with me all these years (and there are too many to count). Lonesome and Lonely. I love it because it is so true. And so I'd like to share it with you here because some poems are too big to be confined in a book.
Lonesome and Lonely Ain't the Same
by Saundray Sharp
Lonely is
walking around tryin' to look like the morning after
when there wasn't no night before
Lonesome is
having something good happen
(like hitting the number)
(or getting back a quarter from the pay phone)
and wanting to share the news
Lonely is
having no one to tell
Lonesome is
doing your ironing on Saturday night
instead of Saturday afternoon
Lonesome is
talking back to your television
Lonely is
talking back to your television when it isn't on
Lonely is
lying next to you,
wondering if that's where you should be?
Lonesome is
sleeping on one side of an empty bed
Lonely is
telling folks you can't sleep good
unless you're by yourself
Lonesome is
reading a book without seeing the words
Lonesome is
counting the days
Lonely is
trying to ignore the nights
Lonesome is
watching Lawrence Welk without realizing it
Lonesome is
when blues songs sound like love songs
Lonely is
when all blues songs sound like they were
written for and about you
Lonesome and lonely ain't the same
One's sweet, the other is pain.
Lonesome and Lonely Ain't the Same
by Saundray Sharp
Lonely is
walking around tryin' to look like the morning after
when there wasn't no night before
Lonesome is
having something good happen
(like hitting the number)
(or getting back a quarter from the pay phone)
and wanting to share the news
Lonely is
having no one to tell
Lonesome is
doing your ironing on Saturday night
instead of Saturday afternoon
Lonesome is
talking back to your television
Lonely is
talking back to your television when it isn't on
Lonely is
lying next to you,
wondering if that's where you should be?
Lonesome is
sleeping on one side of an empty bed
Lonely is
telling folks you can't sleep good
unless you're by yourself
Lonesome is
reading a book without seeing the words
Lonesome is
counting the days
Lonely is
trying to ignore the nights
Lonesome is
watching Lawrence Welk without realizing it
Lonesome is
when blues songs sound like love songs
Lonely is
when all blues songs sound like they were
written for and about you
Lonesome and lonely ain't the same
One's sweet, the other is pain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
