Poems Of Mine :)

Walking, waiting,
Waiting for a reason,
Trying to figure out which path to take,
Before arriving at the decisive moment,
Having to choose between excellence and despair,
Focusing on achieving a medium between the two,
Shall a new path be forged?
Or should the safest path be taken,
All consequences known,
Thus a mediocre existence achieved?

Waiting to know the distance,
Bled is the line separating reality and the dream scape,
To transverse this line is fruitless,
For the worlds that lie to either side conflict with each other,
Without an amount of intelligence,
The traveler looses placement on this vital line,
And the worlds combine in a violent maelstrom,
Those rejected by the dream world,
Find themselves consumed by harsh reality,
The converse of this;
The individuals who find reality too much,
Submerge themselves within the dream scape.

Truly remarkable,
The travelers who trod along the separating line,
Forever they may visit either world,
Until they lose balanced footing,
Then the Maelstrom takes hold,
And the traveler must decide allegiance.

Without allegiance to either side
All structure becomes subject for debate,
A flawed debate,
As those partaking have no way,
Of knowing correct from incorrect .

Locked in verbal battle,
Eventually society grows weary,
A digression becomes imminent,
Leading to muddled minds as the digression is rushed,
The train of thought breaks free from the tracks,
Crashing down inside the maelstrom.

Excuse me, do I know you?
You seem offly familiar...
No?
I could have sworn I knew you,
After all we've been acquainted for years!

Why this action is new,
When did you start this?
The novelty quickly fades,
How-come you so suddenly are changing your ways?

Confusion sets in,
Where did you go?
Tell me who this impostor is,
They claim to be you!

This cannot be,
I know who you are...
Am I now wrong?

Excuse me!
I thought you were someone I knew,
I thought you were familiar,
But I certainly do not know you.

What is it about dirt,
That makes it so special,
So special,
It becomes insignificant?

Dirt holds many secrets,
Conceals the truth,
Perhaps that is the cause,
Dirt is a liar.

If dirt is a liar,
Are lies necessary for life?
Not all life,
For water fills that role.

Why then are we born a part of the earth,
Earth is another name for dirt,
Even when we die,
We return to dust,
From there we become the dirt.

We become lies,
Because we become lies,
We are overlooked,
We become insignificant,
Mundane to the bare eye.

Examine us though,
Become surprised,
A beauty contained within us shines through,
We are gems,
Jewels to be treasured,
If you don't mind a bit of dirt.

I am from books, both old and new,
From pledge on worn wood banisters,
And songs carried on the wind.

I am from the story-filled boisterous and calm family gatherings.

I am from the azalea, it's newest blossom,
The leaf, the yellow rose,
Tulips and petals.

I am from Catherine and dreamers,
From Thomas, Leo, and Jane.

I am from the zany and the loving.

From, “If you don't behave I'll break your legs” and
“I will always love you” words of my family.

I am from Charleston, South Carolina,
Western Europe, Spaghetti and Tea.

From the story about my grandparent's initial thoughts upon their first meeting,
The way my grandfather was mourned,
And the gleam in my grandmother's eyes when she recalls the good old days.

I am from under the bed,
In the closet and within the heart,
Pictures and memories passed down,
Teaching about the world and life.

I am from parables and morals,
Examples and mystic sage-type advice,
Wisdom meant to grow the soul.

Can you hear the voices,
They started as a dull roar,
A multitude of voices,
Each with a plethora of words to say.

Can you hear the voices,
Whispers carried on the wind,
The wise ones keep their voices soft,
If only you had been so lucky.

Can you hear the voices,
They ring loudly in the ears,
A blatant reminder of isolation,
Isolation within a crowd.

Can you hear the voices,
Stubble and bold withing the same instance,
Cutting remarks tearing into pieces,
Conflicting and consoling voices.

I can hear the voices,
They are a part of everyplace,
Growing louder in their refusal,
Refusal to be silenced.

You're just a little wax figurine,
Stuck in that position,
Unable to scream,
Your actions dictated and mundane,
It's hard to keep yourself from going insane.

Following the crowd,
You stumble about in a haze,
I'm so very disappointed in your cookie-cutter ways.

You try to find yourself within the scene,
Only to become more lost than before,
Finally you return to me,
I am your beacon through the storm.

No matter how bad things seem,
You can always return to your beacon.

So I stand here, amidst the battering rain,
Wind howling around me, and
I think I might be going insane,
Will you be my beacon?

Time ticks by so slowly,
and still the universe,
remains chaotic.

However only fretting about our part,
often keeps a slice of universe,
in semblance of order.

What fun is order anyway,
I prefer to be like water,
Calm and flexible upon the surface,
A strong current pushing onward.

Like water cool and beautiful,
Serenity and healing,
Everything and nothing.

What fun it will be,
To become like water,
The inconsequential element,
Overlooked and disregarded.

Barely noticed, yet every present,
Ignored when bountiful,
Yet vital to existence,
Water, the humble one.

The sun became unbearable upon the end of my second day without water.

Water fell all around, each blessed drop crashing down upon my agonized skin.

Skin tormented by the heat of the day.

Day turns to night.

Night seems to last forever, a lone dog howling in the distance.

Distance crossed only when the traveler carries water, and knows the destination.

Destination, such a simple idea I lost.

Lost like the jeweled beetles in the sands.

Sands of time and the sands of life drift in and out of balance.

Balance I lost and gained.

Gained everything lost and found.

Found shriveled up, the sand filling the recesses of my body.

Body now a mummy.

We each wear masks of silver and gold
Bejeweled in every way
We hide behind our beautiful masks
Never coming out to play


With every passing daily task
Our masks take some wear and tear
They split and break and then we ask
How we ever got to here


Throw away your guise
Show your real front to the world
Regardless of the surprise
Surely that you feel


We cherish our beautiful masks
Holding them on pedestals high
I beg of you begin to ask
Ask yourself why


Cracks and blemishes upon the surface
Lead to deep ravines
A broken device without a purpose
A world between the lines


Join the way of truth
Of days where freedom reigns high
Sure it seems uncouth
But would you rather die?

I sit within my garden with my head filled with dreams,

There exists a storm on every horizon,

Worrying if I’ll survive the onslaught,

Fate sometimes a cruel mistress,

Here within these flowered walls,

My haven where the storms cannot reach,

I await my deal from fate,

She, the grand card dealer,

While waiting I try to improve the world within the storm,

The world that waits for my walls to weaken,

A task with a simple solution,

Finale of smiles.

My job is very interesting,

I meet the strangest characters,
The rebel refuses the governing power,
The protector leads the weak,
The quiet one gains a voice.


I see them all twice a week or less,
Yet I know them almost as myself,

Only an hour we spend together,
An hour that moves relatively quickly,
People move in and out of your life,
Some never return, some do;


That is how the world works,
Do your best to learn from the people in your life,
Perhaps one day you’ll be a teacher.

From home cooked meals,
Country roads,
And laughter louder than thunder,
I made my beginning.

From days spent playing in the sun,
Warm rays caressing my skin,
The wind whispering in my hair,
I made my beginning.

From cruel words,
The sound of flesh meeting flesh,
Ice cold eyes filled with a heated hatred,
I made my concealment.

From days spent,
Filled to the brim with fear,
My smile dying on my lips,
I concealed the truth.

From running for our lives,
Wolf chasing us with jaws snapping,
Freedom gained and joy returned,
I began breaking down the walls

Good God, some of these are quite intellectual. Marvelous work, Duckling.

Every night I sleep alone,

If you could call that sleeping.

First I flounce around like a flopping fish,

Attempting to gain comfort in the oddest positions.

Then I shut my eyes and wait for sleep,

Most of the time I stare at the otherside of my eyelids,

They’re actually quite pretty you know.

Finally I fall asleep,

My body free in slumber,

Yet trapped and defenseless.

I flail about,

Unable to control my movements,

In my dream we’re dancing,

Your arms and smiles keeping me warm,

We have fun together,

You know the perfect things to say,

Our bodies glide across the ballroom,

Out the doors to the veranda,

Whispered words rush past my ear as you lean down,

Your lips nearly touching my skin,

Suddenly a gust of wind pushes them away from my mind,

I struggle in vain to understand what you meant,

I wake to a text message,

Good Morning Cutie, How you doin’?

A word of advice
Keep your Silence
As far as they
Know, nothing to tell.

I swear to you
I'll stay quiet
My lips sealed
Nothing will be known.

Keep your silence
I'll keep mine
I swear to you
I'll keep my silence.

No one need to
Hear, they see it
Our actions speak
Louder than words.

So keep your silence
I'll keep mine
We'll stay in silence
The perfect pantomime.

A day's task,

Simple,

Yet complex

Rehearsal,

Five Hours,

A new soul,

Emergence,

Traded redemption,

False purity,

Made up of lies.

Woo! the best part about all these is i can totaly see you doin that. X3

Leggings and Other Grievances

I have a slight, very slight temper problem…
I’m not saying I can’t control my anger…
But there is a list of things that just
Piss. Me. Off

When I’m dreaming and just as something important happens
Like a support beam breaking right above my head,
Or when the battle plans of the army are finally about to be revealed,

Then the sound of the alarm cuts through.
Reaching for the phone and realizing
The ringing is coming from across the room, under a pile of random crap
Things just piss me off.

Like those people who decide that leggings are pants,
No, just no.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to take someone seriously when they outfit essentially directs attention to their crotch?
No, Things like that just piss me off.

People who are obnoxiously loud,
And then decide to proclaim their sexual deviances?
I REALLY DON’T WANT TO HEAR THAT,
And when you complain you get told to stop Eavesdropping
As if somehow your fault that you overheard

So you bite your tongue and walk away,
Arms clenched at your sides,
Nails digging into skin leaving small crescents

Yet keeping everything inside so not to offend,
Not to bother any poor soul
Who just happen to be in the area when you lose your cool
Yeah things just piss me off.

Katlyn: Love is something hard to describe,
But you can tell who is in love,
Who has love,
And who has lost the one they love.

Ashley: Love is Prince Charming.
That butterfly in your stomach feeling that doesn’t ever fade away.
I’m talking 6 years and still butterflies going strong.

Felicia: Love is cupcakes and sprinkles,
Hugs and whispers,
It’s crisp apples and fallen leaves.

Katlyn: I say love is what exists between my grandparents,
They were set up on a blind date by friends at the shore,
And after many other dates fell in love,
So they got married, and started a family.

Ashley: It’s Bright skies …. Smooth sailing
OK now I know that it’s not always smiles and rainbows,
But that’s how you know it is love!

Felicia: It's cartoons and lullabies,
Cereal and milk,
It’s tree houses and imaginary friends.

Katlyn:
They had their fair share of fights,
What couple doesn’t?
He always apologized by buying her mums,
Her garden is full of them.
The mums show his love with each bloom.

Ashley: It’s tall, dark, and handsome … with manners.
Opens doors, pulls the chair out, treats me like a princess.
Prince Charming knows my soul inside and out.

Felicia: It's candy and springtime,
Rosy cheeks and butterfly kisses
Jumping jacks and The Ice Cream Man.

Katlyn: She still says good morning to him,
Placing a hand lightly on the smoothness,
Of the memorial box that holds his ashes
A Love like that is ageless, timeless, and tangible.

Ashley: He looks at me and I melt like a Popsicle in July.
It’s perfect, it’s caring, it’s loyal, it’s butterflies, it’s love!

Felicia: It’s love.

Katlyn: It’s love.