My Poems! Enjoy! :)
St John's, NFLD
A Long Time Ago.
There was a story that no one knows
Where a thousand soldiers fought in the snow
A thousand tales of what went on
A thousand stories now lost and gone
They went out expecting a fight
With sword and steeds and torches for lights
And women at home, waiting for them to return
Bridges to build, fish to be fished and fires to burn
But when they arrived in the newcomers' camp
The atmosphere quiet and their clothes quite damp
The strangers came up from behind
They came up and attacked with full stride
The was no pause in the kill
Just a continuous, constant chill
The more the fight continued the longer the wait
The wives knew by sunrise, it was too late
Their husbands would never come back
The story would stay forever in the graveyard of attack.
Untitled
The flowers were green while the stems were pink
My stomach went cold as ground began to sink
I abruptly smiled at the man in front of me
But all he returned was a stare so menacing
The world seems reversed
As the sky was going orange
And all the things I tried to learn
Seemed pointless as the earth overturned
A woman in red came down from the sky
But she hadn’t come to fight menacing eye
She came on a cloud made of cotton candy
Her footsteps were precise and a little intimidating
Her pumps were like blood and her dress was a wine
Her hair shone of blonde, just like mine
She walked to the man placed a hand on his arm
He retreated at once and lowered his firearm
This action at once, made me not trust them both
They both had a gun and they knew each other well
My own blood slowly covers my sights
From the moment before when menacing eyes tried to pick a fight
I know my path and I know it’s to you
You’re so far away, somewhere I’ll never get to
The world is backwards and my eyes have turned grey
I feel emotionless and cold but it doesn’t have to be this way
I don’t feel the need to fight anymore
Especially when the world doesn’t want a hero
I just want to defend my right
To be a person and sleep at night
These dreams are ridiculous and don’t make sense
They’re nonsense about how the world will end
These dreams must go they really must
I’m sick of them and their collection of dust.
The Man Behind the Music
The man behind the music
A man of faith
The woman of music in me
And all my beliefs
I don’t think I could feel so passionately
To feel so full of life
To feel so full of emotion, all of the time
To think of this makes me dizzy
And though the world is not mine
It is not ours but everyone’s
The man behind the music pokes and pokes
Makes me wonder about life,
Friends and Family and love
A love of all things
All plants and people and objects and microscopic little things
Balancing it all in my little brain
And wondering how he could stay sane
The man behind the music
Behind the chords and never recognized
But recognized by me with my curious mind
It’s always about the music
It’s always about the music
It’s always about life
The man behind the music reminds me
The man behind the music
He tells me “All things shall pass”
Which things shall pass and when?
Someday all these thoughts shall pass,
And the man behind the music shall laugh.
Untitled
He was always handsome
From his toes to his hair roots
His hair was so obviously black
I always thought we’d have our children
Live happily in a small house in a close village
Travel the world before these events and meet people
We’d roam until we could find our roots
Bring us to a place of peace amongst our favourite people
We’d be reminded of ourselves as children
Roaming around until we found ourselves when the nights were black
Roaming the outskirts of the village
But he’d always be with me, always handsome
My heart, I always feel as if it were once black
Until I met my handsome
But finding him required staying at home in the village
And I suppose we could have children
And teach them how to grind up roots
And how to treat people
We would show them the world and say it’s their village
To share with other people
So they can find their own beautiful or handsome
And they can have children
That they’ll teach about family roots
And their hearts will no longer be black
They’ll love everything about their handsome
Just like other people in our village
They’ll understand the truth about people
Everything is about roots
Keeping everything together in our scrapbook of black
They’ll appreciate us, my children
Maybe they’ll forget that we taught them this, my children
But myself and my handsome
We’ll continue to remind them of a huge village
Home and everything about our people
So they’ll never get lost in the black
They’ll find their way back and remember the tree roots
He’s always handsome and knows the roots of my people
Maybe someday we’ll have children, live in this village and break through the black or maybe not.
Last Kiss Station
Lovers meet to kiss goodbye
In secret because they're shy
The dust gives the allusion of fading memories
The train starts to leave, leaving these memories eerie
The cold would settle into your bones in that last kiss station air
As the train travels down the track uncaring
Untitled
Heart pounds
Ears throb from pressure
Hands that tremble with nerves
But a soothing voice comes to mind
Tells you life will be easier
To trust in love and friendship
To believe in yourself
And those you trust
Because you have people you can trust now
You have friends now
What a wonderful feeling
To have a friend whom you can trust
Who knows the truth of your life
Without judgement or resentment
And looks at you with trusting eyes that brim with happiness and sadness
Is it what it feels like to believe in friendship?
Heavy
I want to feel light
I feel heavy and weighted down
I feel like I can’t handle the weight
It feels like I’m carrying a thousand pounds
It feels like I’m carrying more than my own weight
I feel like I’m carrying more memories that are not mine
I want to feel like me, feel light, and feel free from weights that are too heavy for me.
If He Were Here
And I shall never dance again
Without rain falling on my arms
The moonlight basking in my glow
And him, sitting at home
Me wishing he were here
Though knowing my imagination’s running thin
So close yet so far away
I wish more and more everyday
For him to hold me now
Though too far away to calm my brow
To thin away these lines of fret
To just be with me whilst I’m upset
And he would be amazing
If only he were here with me
Music
What if I were connected to all things
And I could feel the pulse of the air
And the way it connected to humans
The format of the pulsating air in music
Rushing through the torso of the musicians
Into the expecting ears of the listener
Tapping their foot on the ground and clapping their hands
In the old tradition of dancing and creating that pulse in the air
The vibrations that travel across fields and courtyards
Has traveled through time and landed on your eardrum
The beating of every heart as it masters a piece
Or the beating of a hand against the side of a guitar
The steady beat that pushes us forward
Makes days easier and captivates my own purpose in life
The feeling of the air rushing through me
From the pit of my stomach and the vibrations in my throat
And that sound explodes inside my mouth as it finally escapes
It’s the feeling of letting go of something
And becoming connected
To everything
Not Exactly Poems: I frequently write down random ideas or thought blurbs which are basically my own stream of consciousness written down. These are mostly small descriptions of random things which I may or may not use in a later works. I like to jot down any ideas I have so being able to have small ideas to develop from sometimes helps. On the flip-side to that note, there are some which I decide to keep separate for no reason other than that I just like them. Here are some thought blurbs:
One Early Morning
Early mornings are reserved for those starting on a new journey leading away from the norm. Early mornings are reserved for the smell of cooking sausages and a bright new future of those looking into the early tendrils of sunshine curling their way across the sky and it is also reserved for those watching the tendrils in the eyes of a lover. Some bright future lies ahead with unexpected outcomes for all those involved. Let it come and see what the future has in store for us. Whether it be unabashed love or a great distance traveled and new surroundings, this change is beginning in the light of a brand new day. This day, today.
Untitled
The sky is pink with the setting of the sun and it reflects the colour in your eyes. How I love your eyes, especially when they lock with mine in the dimming light. I know by the way you look at me that you love me. But will it last until the sun sets? Or drown in the dampness of the clouds. The pinkness up above is comparable to the blush in your cheeks.
Everything Happens For a Reason
The calling of something amazing is what I have now. The feeling of knowing when something is so right. Knowing that I am in the right place, keeps me sane. Believing in George Harrison and listening to his music, realizing the passion behind it and the meaning that was given to him through something greater. I want that for me. Something that I can’t explain but know to be true. This is all happening for a reason.