Tag Archives: dverse

Reading Me…

a unknown_source_

“Shh…”
Sober command to a shattered heart.
I am trying to read.
Pensive gaze transfixed,
content with chocolate in hand,
staring into the looking-glass of my own words…
“Shh…”
I am trying to read.
“Evolve, Dear Heart,
Stay your course.
Steer your soul toward solitude.
The coming world is a lonely place for the chaotic.”
“Shh…”
“Breathe, eat your reesecup and live vividly,
as if your dreams had come alive,
because they will.
His loving proposal will come in 2018.
Avoid the convention to choose differently than I did.”
“Shh…”
“Listen to your inner voice and meditate.
It will help to prepare for losing our job in 2022,
but the transition to editor will be smoother.
P.S. the weight gain wasn’t caused by the chocolate!
It was stress, so be mindful of that too!
“Shh…”
Sober command to a fragmented mind…
I am trying to comprehend.
Would I listen and prepare?
In that moment, if known in advance…
looking into my destiny,
mirrored by my own words…
“Shh…”
Last bit of reesecup… song coming to an end…
All thoughts finally silent…
“Shh…”
Time for sleep
and silently tossed the letter aside.

©Daydreamer

This poem posted for Loneliness / Solitude3WW Week No. 415Theme Thursday for February 12, 2015 – SWEETSPoets United Midweek Motif ~ Glass(es)The Tuesday PlatformMag 258, and Poetics: A poem from the future.

Please stop by to read other poems by some great poets!

Spider Trumps Swim

Beach
Beach

it was a glorious day outside

no school and plenty of heat

we packed sand toys and towels

and rode off to the beach

only we argued over swimming

that my fear must be beat

Daddy glimpsed the sand suddenly

a tarantula lay near his feet

as his scream subsided

we exchanged naught but a look

I grinned from ear to ear

knowing I was off the hook

©Daydreamer

Find this at IGWRT and dVerse!

I Remember…

Artwork by Joseph Lorusso
Artwork by Joseph Lorusso

I remember your cologne and the way it made me feel.

I remember how the scent lingered for hours,

reminding me that I was yours;

that I had experienced some semblance of passion!

Fahrenheit…

as in one hundred degrees and rising!

I remember…

 

I remember sneaking home all those nights.

I remember the rampage dad went on when caught;

reminding me how cumbersome it was to have parents.

Too many years before adulthood and freedom.

Independence…

Three years and counting!

I remember…

 

I remember the first ring you gave me.

I remember how committed we were,

reminding me of all the years I spent chasing;

good fun-loving years, yearning…

love…

It’s all I really wanted.

I remember…

 

I remember the years of broken promises.

I remember the wasted youth,

reminding me how many nights were spend grounded;

just for a few extra moments with you.

Sacrifice…

morbid,I know,

but I remember…

 

©Daydreamer

 

Posted for Sacrifices3WW CCCXVI, Scents, Committed, Mag 155, The Poet’s Toolbox. Come and enjoy other great poets!

 

 

Beauty Evolved

 

I Am Beautiful by Arto-Fao-Chao

Revolution in evolution

deemed us worthy.

Only the strong survive.

Revolution in attribution

deemed us curvy.

Beauty constantly redefined.

© Day Dreamer

Posted for dVerse Poets and Sunday Scribblings!

 

Wordlessness

Sometimes the words flow from me

and I question where they come from.

They pour onto the page as if they were already there,

just invisible somehow.

Sometimes I am speechless

and the words just fail me.

Though my heart aches as if I’ve stemmed the flow

and I ask myself:

What do I know?

My heart aches to tell a story

that my hands won’t let me write.

My eyes strain to see words beyond a blank page

but my body screems to me good night.

Emotions war

but I’m still left silent

in a tornado of word filled smoke.

These are the trials of a poet,

yet many think them a joke.

A yawn stifled,

a gift returned,

a love rejected,

something for which you yearn…

We all know the feeling.

We’ve all been there.

How you feel when your true love becomes your enemy,

that’s how wordlessness feels to me.

© Day Dreamer

I write poetry because it is my voice.  It is the way my “voice” sounds so to speak.  Though I know many people suffer it daily, I can’t imagine a world with no voice.  Therefore, I let people hear it whenever I can and I cherish my gift.

 

You can find this piece in the book Fragments of Me: A Journey of Poetry or over at Dversepoets.com.  Come join us!

Free Accused For Priest Abused

William Lynch acquitted for beating the Priest
To some, just another word for the horned beast
Sexually assaulted when just a boy
Allegedly used as the holy man’s toy.

“I honestly thought I was going to jail,” said he
Instead, one way trip to hell gets the priest
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” some say
Religious beliefs were tried today

This is my submission for the #Poetics topic @Dverse poetry pub. View original article at http://news.yahoo.com/william-lynch-found-not-guilty-beating-priest-said-202746328–abc-news-topstories.html

Tears Write This Story

Tears write this story left unspoken.

My heart won’t let me utter the words.

For I could not believe the damage done

To one,

Once innocent.

I thought I left you so you could benefit,

From love from life.

All the things I was running from

And I never realized

You thought I was running from you.

Years have passed, times have changed

And yet we are stuck

In limbo, searching, seeking…

For what?

Tears lay between us.

A wall erected for protection

From a world that kept us fighting.

Too blind to see that the wall

Is me and we are fighting ourselves.

Better yet each other, for you

Are a portion of me. The me I

Was running from and didn’t know it.

Loved you too much to stay. Somehow

Hurt wouldn’t let me show it.

Too blind, too much time

And yet the words are not here to explain.

I’m still lost but no longer running.

Will things ever be the same?

Little sister, the sigh escapes my lips

And I pause.

Wait, they say time heals all wounds.

Maybe it’s too soon.

I find myself rambling. Tears write the

Story and they won’t cease.

They speak of times past and a

Possible future.

Three sisters ripped apart,

Still trying to find their way back

To life,

To love,

To each other.

Past that wall erected by me.

I was blind now I see.

I find myself rambling,

Words my heart won’t let me speak.

So many tears, let them write my story

For me.

© Daydreamer

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