Tag Archives: poems

fears

What are you afraid to write about?
what is your greatest fear?

The truth about your family

Are you afraid that they will hear?

What about your past

Would you ever write about that?

Are not all secrets meant to be shared?

Ever write about what you did on a dare?

Are you embarrassed

Or are you scared

Write about your broken heart

Write about the person who tore you apart

Am I getting too personal

Is it making you angry

Good

Hold that

Curl your toes

Turn your face

Just do not play it safe

Rules are meant to be broken

Fears are meant to be faced

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6 hr wait

6 hr wait was something I was used to

I noticed him across the room

Hands clenched trying to keep face

No uniform

you could just tell

he realized I knew his secret

the boy at the bus stop

staring into space

no amount of smokes

enough to calm his fears

the last time he went over

he lost his mother and brother back home

he could hardly muster enough words to stay awake

a final smoke

a handshake

off on a bus numbered 643

grabbed his pack

he way on his way to keep us free

 

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Finding yourself

walk into a mirrored room,

and take note of the different views,

which one is you?

are you tall and thin?

or short and fat?

is it important to think about any of that?

and if you cannot decide which one you like,

just walk outside,

and feel the warmth of the sky,

and as it begins to rain

feel the drops soak into your skin

breathe in everything you want to be

breathe out what the world wants you to see

for you are not found in reflections of glass

or any reflection of gold silver or brass

you cannot ask Jack or Jill where they found you to be

it is only when you kneel in prayer you can finally believe

for as the verse tends to go

remembered by those young and old

he who finds his life will lose it

but he who loses his life for my sake will find it

so have faith that in our lives

we find ourselves in molded clay

it is only important who we are through his eyes

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No One

the world is full of stories
of wonders, comidies, and even borers
some stories make us smile and some make us tear
but the point is to know a story is always near
the old man at the park bench that you see on your way home
he has stories that leave goosebumps from a war in vietnam
the old lady who lives just across the street
the numbers on her arm show for her the option was not defeat
the little girl who comes over for playdates
doesn’t even know what her uncle does is rape
the stories are all there
in every corner that you turn
tell he stories that leave goosebumps
tell the stories that bring fear
tell them for the survivors
the veterans
the abused and the raped
the neglected and the hungry
tell the stories no one wants to hear

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Orange

write till it’s magical
and every line is whimsical
and when its time
you learn not to rhyme
oh it will be divine
you will begin by talking about romance
and maybe even a lover’s dance
then throw in something random about osmosis
and supercalafragalisticexpialidocious
they will think you are crazy
they will call you insane
but life is more fun with a creative brain
so start with the basis
and then confuse the masses
cause when you create poetry
everything rhymes with orange

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A Writer’s Mind

theres a story in my head
and it’s going round and round again
when it comes around and about
there is no doubt
it will be stuck again and again
i live inside a writers mind
pen and paper always within reach
and i stay drunk on writing
for i will never accept defeat
the world and its reality
everything that speaks to me
i live inside a writers
the writing is on the walls
literally the chalk consumes them all
every scratch paper and pocket note
nothing is safe from a writer devote
devote on a level they are attatched to the pen
in a writers mind i live
and no matter which lifetime
i will again

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the wind blows

I write because the wind blows

And because the grass scrapes my knee

Because I live not in a box

Because I make a scene

And one day the curtain will close

And we will all dance backstage

Kicking off our flip flops

We scream and shout

Yell “I love you” out loud

We are fearless and fun

We are seven again,

five,

one

We are kids

Forever in our youth

Afraid to grow up

Afraid of the end

Of no more dreams

And mind made scenes

All the inner prayers stops

Is it heaven Is it hell

Do we care to find out

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