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Show ALL Forums  > Creative/Writing  > Poetic prose I suppose...      Home login  
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 1
Poetic prose I suppose...Page 1 of 1    
with all my gathered sorrow
I wash the morning clean
so bright it blinds me
as I wish for sunburn

only to recall I am alive
before Im all dried up
shriveled like a raisin
discarded by the moon
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 2
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/13/2019 2:55:34 AM
where is my eternal compass
when the lighthouse lumens
are too dim inside iniquity
and the sea wishes to drown?

it is firmly planted within
guiding me from wrong to right
this most holy free gift
forged into my soul forever
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 3
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/13/2019 3:02:41 AM

it is almost a place of sanctuary
this den of music metal flash
where I do to find freedom
for a mere nominal fee I gladly release

not only for the creations themselves
nor the life time statements they make
each a unique piece both to me and that one
that never asks too many questions

but always listens like I bear a confession
with meanings deeper than that needle
can ever bear into my skin
like a penance payment in pain

mingled with blood in rainbow colors
outlined in black just as dark
as the sins I seem to hide within
stained upon my soul

with that gun buzzing away
it reminds me there is a fine line
between pleasure and pain
as I ballet on the edge of it all

somehow keeping balance
as I see my own designs come to life
graced inside my layers till the day I die
like graffiti thats been personalized

and again I fall in love with the rush
the pure high I find through nothing else
that sews all my tattered rags into one
making a garment for me to wear

telling a story only I can translate
through an artists affliction
reflected through two sets of eyes
that once met as one
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 4
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 1:34:30 AM
i breathe deep
for my frustration
quickly evaporates
through each exhale,

as I watch
the birds rest
not so quietly
as my pitt chases them,

from their comfort
in a peach tree
he know not right
only what I deem is wrong,

nor of the illusions created
inside a mind that wanders
through dreams like pages
as I sit sipping coffee,

as it settles into mud
on the bottom
of my tiny cup
wishing I had more,

from a distant place
I once called home
in another language
as I lay beside the pool,

I filled all too early
glad I dont have to clean it yet
as I snooze guilt free
with a wet frisbee at my feet
and a dog that knows
I'll play when when ready
as he too takes a nap
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 5
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 1:44:24 AM
its like when your're sitting all alone
so late at night its almost morning
the house is so quiet it echos
against the graffiti of memories
spray painted on the brick walls
around my heart ache and head aches

when no one is awake to even care why
I seem to find solace in the silence
as I sit here on the internet just day dreaming
while I carelessly shuffle through profiles
of the last that viewed me hoping for magic
with the wave of an enchanted mouse
thinking what can we really get from a darn picture

its not like it speaks a thousand words now does it
nope it says the same old shyt from person to person
and by some rare act of congress passing a profile
it seems like it requires legislation sometimes
I actually find one like a needle in that haystack
thats been in my back yard for years and never noticed

under all that decaying mold and mildew of broken dreams
BAM! A man that a can actually relate to that doesnt have kids
so I actually send a darn well thought out message
only to get no reply so its back to shuffling cards
on the net in the morning of my appetite
that certainly wont get filled on my computer

I babble away in my mind when no one is awake
in my lavender robe and hello kitty under wear
just because I thought they were cute
wondering if its time for breakfast
and wishing it was Waffle House
with pecans and promises
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 6
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 1:57:04 AM
there is this one jar on my work table
its not just any jar but from Dukes
the true southern mayo
it even makes my desk taste good

as I grab a handful of my faves
a number nine and a one inch flat for sure
plus a few random others I cant read
cause they are older than my kids

even though I have a slew of new ones
sprouting like flowers of many colors
stained and obtained through years of collecting
it must be I enjoy the faded now bare handles

if they are sable or camel or I dont really care
all I know is when I dip these bad boys
the paint can be Crayola for kids
in a cute plastic container in oval cakes

they came with one of them giant things
that looks like I can use it to wear my blush
when in fact Im sure at one point I will
just out of curiosity cause Im me

as my tubes of fancy expensive prettiness
sit in a nice neat wood cigar box my late fiance gave me
all color segregated by group of warms and colds
like Im some secret kind of paint racist

Im really just a lot this side of ocd
about my art supplies anyway
so here I am with my absolute favorites
drinking tap water from the bathroom sink

in that good ole southern keeper
cause I dont dare top toe in the kitchen
at 5am and wake anyone else up
with a blank sheet of paper that costs too much

I make less than hour as I do think about it
and what Im going to paint today
like its still a dream inside my brain
just dying to see the light of day

well its still dark outside
and the moon is ready to set
faster than this cheap paint
so I need to figure it out

ahh the ideas are coming to life
as I need more brushes than these
and I choose a few roses among the thorns
budding with great ideas

theres this bold model in my new mag
Im gonna turn her into the wind
flowing like a fairy in the sky
of this new morning sun rise...
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 7
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 7:06:06 AM
miracles are possible, they happen everyday
we are really free, to do what ever we want
to know our mind, and state it well

acknowledging people, in new creative ways
instead of empty gestures, not keepin things private
I like learning things, as though never done before

deciding to have confidence, creating my own destiny
knowing my priorities, investing in good relationships
to question the popular, seeing the bigger picture

have i ever been in a box? how could I learn anything?
I focus on my priorities, good health is a strength
faith brings me peace, values direction

character charisma communication!
I listen with passion, having courage to see
drawing on my history, as an agent for change!

I am an expert on me, and I am not broken!
I can do anything, life lessons have taught me that
my mind and soul connect, through my body as one

I understand my hopes fears anxieties and losses
I remain clam in the chaos of life, remembering to breathe
having capacity for change,, never biting off too much

looking forward to all solutions, knowing my path
asserting myself, through exposure to new ideas
never ignoring my basic instincts, never surprised

examining priorities, overcoming obstacles
working like money really doesnt matter,
I can follow my heart, it has made me wise

I give for the giving, it is the gift for me!
I balance my thinking, coming to my own rescue
I do things badly, and enjoy them (and to be bad)

troubles can work for me, when I laugh for no reason
knowing they create change, life isnt ever planned
who said anything was fair? or didnt hurt?

nothing is ever complete or finished till death
there are always choices, and solutions
so I am accountable for my actions~
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 8
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 5:11:02 PM
innocence is not an impractical emotion
all is appreciated and acknowledged
with grateful thanks giving
considerate of others feelings

its affections support self esteem
and do not channel relations
from careful caution
nor tactful reservations

innocence flows naturally
it has no fear of the unknown
harmless open and pure
truth is what it understands

without ulterior motives
joy comes straight from its heart
with knowledge of right from wrong
and never over thinks anything

maybe we all need a little innocence
to remember how to nurture
our very own souls
so we may dance in the face of adversity
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 9
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/19/2019 5:30:58 PM
n the depths of my agony I taste no defeat
all walk upon the cracks of a different street
tis when I fall the lowest I see the true light
which shall lift me from this earthly plight

I put on the whole armor down to my feet
and many of my good brethren I like to greet
tis only in this place we shall come to fight
to know what is wrong and feel what is right

to furnish a return be productive in my life
knowing there's an end to earthly strife
I have a shield of love with strength I wear
knowing there is one that took it all to bear

this world might cut my spirit like a knife
yet words do comfort me like heavens fife
no one did promise anything would be fair
but for all of mans sin one did bare
Joined: 4/6/2019
Msg: 10
Poetic prose I suppose...
Posted: 4/20/2019 12:28:31 PM
we never did get to meet each other
nor wonder in amazement what could be,
deep within I know Im a grandmother
for in my heart forever you will be,

would your eyes have been blue green or just brown
it did not matter much to anyone,
with great joy our tears would have drowned
everything else in life we've ever done,

sweet baby Carter in heaven you rest
with so many that we still love here on earth,
you are with company I call the best
even though you were too small at your birth,

so peace to you my lovely little one
you still make my insides come all undone~
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