Gently I whisper to my children, Believe in yourself, And all your dreams Will become your reality.. Kym Breeze 2007
It is that feeling in her eyes / As she moves towards revolution / Her poise, her presence / She holds herself defiant and courageous / A war…
DANGEROUS featured in THE SISTERHOOD ON 6-4-09! / DANGEROUS featured in All Out Emotion on 1-3-09! My poem Dangerous was written to go with my painting Dangerous displayed on the front page of my RedBubble Site.
There was something about him that caught my eye. He was not conventionally handsome but he was beautiful to me. I saw a soul that had…
He is beautiful to me.
Ours eyes; I believe mused our connection before the moment. / Walking towards you under instructions from my humanity, / I smiled at you…
We all know this moment when we meet a strangers look and we give of ourselves for that the small moment in time our love …...because that is the true essence of the human soul….to love. There are many in the world that live under the stronghold of some form of hatred, power, self seekers…...but you will find they still know what love is….even if they have forgotten what it felt like.
With clenched fists, I stand before the mirror of my past, / I shatter it to pieces, breaking the many illusions I’ve cast; Finally see…
Just processing LIFE…a few years back
...because without freedom, / My sentence is death.
I wrote this poem while I was in a relationship that I found was way too restrictive and controlled. I am my own person and that being said, I need my own space and freedom…
I’m not stunning / nor am I breathtaking. / I’m not voluptuous / nor am I stick-thin. I don’t like dresses / and I don’t wear pink. I d…
I enjoyed writing this. It was empowering. And it was fun being honest too. / I have to say it was ms.trace’s poem Ode To Mr. Somewhere Out There Man that inspired me to write this. / Thanks ms.trace :)
the lonely call / the forgotten voice / the suppressed feeling / weakly and longingly / calls out / hoping to get my attention i try to pu…
I hesitated about uploading this poem. It’s as honest as My Weakness and maybe even more personal. But all of you have become like a family to me, and are always so kind and accepting, so in the end, I decided to share this. / This poem sprung from these words found in “My Weakness:” My weakness is my need / for warmth and care. / But I take care not to show it. / I act like like I have all I need. Again, not an easy thing to admit to myself. As a matter of fact, I hated it. But I can’t deny it. What I hate most is not knowing or understanding why I’m like this sometimes.
The yellow just uncurling….........
A moment where all was enough.
To hear me would sound like a symphony of octaves – / played all at once with concrete fingers / on diamond in the rough strings. To see…
Just a bit of introspection.
Forgive yourself for all you’ve done, / For wrongs that made you long to run, / When hate became your saving grace, / When light grew dark u…
Another Rondeau form poem i wrote last year, meant to heal the guilty soul. So many of us feel guilt, whether warrented or not, but whatever it is, is just a part of the path, necessary in order for growth and future enlightenment. :)
She looks through clear glass - / tempted to stray, she is forced / into reflection, / beyond what the world observes, / to what the glass is…
I have posted this on the request of Philosophy Lee; he needed some backing up. lol he was talking about inspiration coming from INside…and this is saying somewhat the same thing, but this is on more broad a spectrum: ALL things come from inside. A universe within us, after all. As above, so below…Namaste. :)
The new day comes on feet of gold, / now severed from the nights dark hold, / it shines for all the world to see, / while one side breaks th…
A poem of the dawning of a new day, with no mistakes in it. I needed to hear this myself today…so thought someone else might need to hear it, too. Everyone has days where they don’t like themselves, but the new day always comes, ready to begin anew, bringing another chance for salvation and light.
Upon the parchment of ones soul / there swirl the letters of our past, / they couple with the cosmos vast – / becoming what our future holds…
this is an 8 syllable Italian Sonnet about the message each soul brings with them to this life, and how each new day we learn, through every single event, moment and heppening, the things we NEED to learn in this life, to move forward into the next.
...in the face of darkness / on shadow feet – / long and silent, / she moves like a mistress, / entwining herself with all ...
A poem of beauty and light. :)
I can feel your mind, / before you even touch me – / (gently, and baring / a meek, yet intrigued grin) / probing past my own / enigmatic gaz…
I wrote this in a moment when I was indulging in the introvertedness of myself, as well as my hightened awareness; the “never really fits in anywhere; who could really ever know me” girl. Just a bit of poetic indulgence. :) Indulge me, would you? lol
“Come to the window… / I can see myself more clearly, / here…” A Valkyrie goddess – / gold and pink, / with the heart of a dying child; ...
A poem dedicated to my beautiful, Goddess of a mother who died tragically when she was young (26) , long story, and all she taught me of life through her tragic death and sacrifice. This is a poem written from her perspective in italics, her words to me…at least, those are the things she taught me… I love you, Mum. :)
Where does the money disappear? Where do the billions go? Thin air?
Seems sometimes I feel missing from my own world / It feels like part of me is ebbing and retreating / wanting to be gone missing / Over exposed by my own risk. / I want the ground to cover me and go on a vision quest / just to find my red dress / just to find out if it fits / my own private Idaho
Lady sitting at the bar, / baubles draped upon her breast, / wringing hands, clutching dress / twisting her many rings; she waits, / for w…
leaving the cave only gets you so far…predisposition usually finds its way home.
Escape from within / this draconian flame / comes not with the promise / of remembrance, / but battered flesh that taunts the meek; / callin…
This is the first poem I wrote after 15 years or so of not writing poetry. I wrote it in the bathroom while my kids we splashing about in the tub. That day, 17 poems came out of me. This was the first. / The flood of words has yet to cease. / I uncorked. :) This is about learning, growth, suffering, and knowing the point at which it all becomes clear; then acting.
She thinks her shape went with the kids / and regrets not taking care of her figure / she thinks she must always cover up / he won’t find …
Posted 5 10 09 Featured by Midnight Ramblers – 5th Oct 2009 Featured by Inspired by Life – 27th Oct 2009 CL1TP-G2K9R-Q43GN
Through eyes that had turned red and stinking, she looked again into the mirror. She looked deeply into her own eyes. “I know I am …
The comfort and love of Friends.
My love for you / must stand apart / and look inward
If we learn to be gentle with ourselves then we can be gentle with others.
By the stream, duck arrival one two three / and a smile, a smile, a smile. The kindness kiln, where sun peeks out / of the valley and no…
This poem is in honour of Iris (happyfeet5) and in response to one of the loveliest bubblemails I’ve received in a while. It seems that poetry does invite us at times to not only try on different identity costumes but also encouage us to look for different ways of viewing experience, seek new lenses. Often there can be a fine line in creativity between careless abandonment of sense and finding that unique logic of each individual that is precisely him or her, and different to the norm. It is a great thing to do with one’s life, I believe, to seek this out even though it doesn’t guarantee one will find it. There may in the end be just a jumble of word and thought-confusion. Yet the duck has a few cubic inches of magic in its coat, and among all the words and descriptions we make of life, there is sometimes that “something undefinable” that reaches us on a deeper-than-intellectual level. Thank you Iris for helping me once again to believe that there is purpose and application for poetry in bringing something special or valuable into the world. So many times I have felt that it is inconsequential and wish that I had’ve done what many of my friends did and leave school at 17 to work in a woodwork shop for $4/hr. Perhaps there is something practical about poetry after all, something I may have not noticed. My inner duck may lack self-esteem at times, yet often “no-self” is the only gap where the light can get in.
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