Your Everything

I want to be your air that
fills your lungs with my warmth.
Whisper softly in your ear
and hum our sweet, melodic song.
Linger against your lips,
sating all temptations.

I want to be your skin,
cover your bones with my wrapping,
and ease your muscles with affection.
Generate a tingle on your spine
and spark thunder in your thoughts.

I want to be your heart.
Curl against your ribcage
and rub gently on your lungs.
Beat valiant tunes in your chest
when the weight of the world
seems to tower against your psyche.
Pump slow through your veins
and make rivers of your blood.

I want to be your ritual.
Dance between your fingertips
and sync into your dreams.
Paint the night with lightning
and disperse stardust
from your afterglow.

I want to be your everything.

Photograph by Andrea Gibson

Beloved Memory

I almost had it;
almost nailed it and framed it,
and encased it with the purest amber
or whatever you want to call it.
Preserve it,
like the oldest wine
sweetened only through age.
The nostalgic feeling of absolute joy,
and unconditional optimism;
the sparkle that creates a
splendid sunny morning
or a glorious evening
with no ending in sight.
Childhood days,
where worries were never problematic.
Playing with the flowers
that never wither,
believe in a love
rare as a pheonix,
back when everything was easy.
The ideal reality.

Purity Inhabits

Moments away

After nine aching,

But enduring months,

Shall bestow a magnificence

Of newly life

With purity

And innocence.

Memory that knows no wrong,

No hate,

No falsehood.

A miracle given daily worldwide;

A treasure

Of greater value

Than the constant rise of gold.

Truth be told,

Slight or notable vicissitude changes

Is unavoidable.

A first defiance,

Some splashes of sass,

But forever and always

Will the quenchable memoir

Of that first glance

Of love

And righteousness

From youthful eyes stay

And leave nothing,

But tender warmth.

Dreams by Anne Bronte

While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair,
May smile and soothe it into rest
With all a Mother's fondest care.

How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to think it is my own!

And glances then may meet my eyes
That daylight never showed to me;
What raptures in my bosom rise,
Those earnest looks of love to see,

To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!

But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed,
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void?

A heart whence warm affections flow,
Creator, thou hast given to me,
And am I only thus to know
How sweet the joys of love would be?

Canvas of Ours

Imagine.
Our lives,
Displayed as a canvas;
Waiting to be filled
With our hopes,
Our dreams,
And our beliefs as well,
Colors and meanings all our own
That only you'd understand.
Like a Jackson Pollack,
Appearing unorganized
With unpredictable splashes of paint,
But with its own definite meaning,
Like our existence.

In a Different Light

Alone with my heartbeat

That is now sheltered from this dark atmosphere,

I shiver in thought

Of hidden horrors in reality.

My heart thunders

In fear of this darkness.

Lies spoken as truths;

Smiles hiding jealousy;

Enemies disguised as friends.

Alone with my heartbeat,

Trapped by the solitude,

I tremble in sadness

From watching negativity

Outwit artificial reality.

Haiku(s)

women
after challenges,
a woman gained rights.
past women, thank you.

stress
school work commotion-
study this...complete homework;
hello tylenol.


paranoid
somebody's watching...
tell me is it just a dream.
whose watching me now?

apparition
don't let them see you.
something is out there waiting,
in this midnight sky.

earth
green is everywhere
look into the future now.
will it still be green?

Desolate Man

The cold wind seeps into his drained body.
Bones of his ache from resting on the snow-filled ground.
Shoes of his,
No unwearable,
For he has kept them long enough that they started to break.
And so is left to walk bared.
The forlorn man travels
Seeking work,
Accepting food and money as payment.
He travels with nothing, but a clothed bindle;
Carrying a teared down photograph of a small blue-eyed girl.
As night falls,
The lonesome wanderer seeks a resting area to snooze.
Occupying a decrepit bench,
He weeps,
Whimpering quietly
Desiring of nothing more
But someone to heal his emotional wounds and take him back
To the life he once had.

Haiku(s)

"Medusa"
Crude, snake-haired monster
Turns petrified men to stone;
Beware, you'll be next.

"Temptation"
Budget cut abound;
Tighten our belts we all must...
Can't resist shopping.

"Morning Tea"
Cup of steeping tea,
Smells waft as memories bound,
Finishing for more.

"Caesar's Apparition"
Arising from grave
From the death you've given me;
I bid you warning.

My Chains

Open wounds unhealable.
Soft explosions of pain;
One after another.
The only thing left
Are the lies said
That are now implanted
Into my brain-
Never to escape.
I adore you,
Or should I say,
Adored what you wanted me to see and feel.
Chains of dependence
Now set free.
I'm on my own.
Happiness soon to follow.

A Relationship With Words

They cannot be contained.
I've known them as friends
Since my earliest memory.
The things they tell,
Splash about in my mind
With no command.
I have mourned through words
And have built anger from stories.
They have led me into places
I've never thought I'd go.
Imagine
Alaskan Northern Lights;
Pinks and greens gleaming brilliantly
Across the darkened sky.
Rome;
Coliseums eroding slowly from rain
And wore down from gladiatorial battles.
Tell me more stories
About the darkness in war
Or of a passionate romance blossoming.
Fine print made to cause selected dreams
Into reality.

for myself

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

something i received from a stranger

insomnia

soft pillows;
never soft enough.
cluttered thoughts
flow freely through my restless mind-
please stop.
soothing herb tea,
work your magic chamomile-based self
to enact sleep upon me.
one sheep,
two sheep,
three...
sleep methods fail to work.
dear sleep,
i do not fear you.
bring on the nightmares;
bring life to my fears if you must,
i'd do anything
to gain a moment's rest.

Haiku(s)

Winter
Footprints left on the ground;
a blizzard soon approaches.
Wind soon blows tracks away.

Outing
Fair lights, deep-fried food,
Rattling noises from rides-
Carnival of death.

True Beauty
A new seduction-
That of mind and beauty;
of depth, not surface.

UFO
Teenagers from Mars
Go on a space trip to Earth.
They love exploring.

Kept Away
Isolated now-
The silence feels like thunder.
Someone make some noise.

Mystic Essence

the sound of fluttering wings
echos around the horizon.
a translucent butterfly
glides along the wind,
dancing with the breeze,
softly and slowly.
Cares nonexistent.
The aura of tranquility
trickles down its wings.
it sways into a forest.
why did it go?

Unfair Disaster

Impoverished,
Unsated hunger follows daily.
Villagers' faces look
Solemn and empty,
As if nothing that outlives them
Can do much damage.
This lie was disproved
On an unexpected afternoon.
Everyday people
Fulfill tasks
To survive,
To maintain their families.
Children being children,
Play as they should.
A slight tremor,
Turns the world into complete upheaval and ruination.
A 7.0 earthquake.
Thereafter, the sound of silence
Radiates the area.
Buildings,
Hospitals,
Homes-
All destroyed.
Light shrieks are heard underneath the havoc.
Innocent, strong-willed survivors
Gain strength to rise.
Glancing at a hell
They didn't deserve to be in.

Temporary Silence

A silence has come;
A silence that both lifts and suppresses,
All at once.
Lives life in comfort
And leaves it, limp,
Like a frozen drop of transience,
On a still winter branch
That might or might not be
spring arising to life again.

Adventures in Solitude

Sitting on the harbor,
He glances at
Passing boats
Cruising the ocean's blue waters.
He stands,
Scouring everywhere for
Something,
But finding nothing.
The wings
Of the feathered creature
Spread openly-
Ready to take off.
Gliding through the cloudy sky,
The unhappy bird
Travels on
In search of
Adventures in solitude.

Ants Marching

They stand for themselves.
Males and females
Fight to gain their rights,
Freedom,
And equality,
From the ones
Who oppress
And dictate.
The aura of corruption
And evil
Radiates the world
Like a virus;
Bombs made for the cause of
Hurting the innocent.
A day comes by
When the innocent
Can no longer put up with hell.
Like ants marching,
They stand united as one
To stand up to the wrong in life
Hoping to soon make peace.