Being alone was not a problem,
It was a way of life.
A life that she had chosen she supposed,
And yet when she realized the vastness of
the wilderness she was living in
Her soul soared with a freedom that no other
could have possibly felt.
Outside there were wild animals, darkness and the unknown,
Inside her little home she snuggled safely in
her imagination
Aware of only what she thought was important.
And what she considered to be significant
Made her life complete,
Maybe not to anyone else and she knew that
didn't matter.
I am a woman whose arms are barren,
And whose life is empty.
For I am not a mother,
Nor a wife.
I hear no little footsteps or feel tiny arms hug
my neck.
No cries of 'Mommy' break through the silence of
my nights.
I am barren, but not by choice.
Life has not seen fit to grant me a husband,
Nor does the state allow me to adopt.
So I remain barren.
My arms lay useless at my sides,
As my eyes watch others who carelessly play at
motherhood,
While my arms remain barren.
I wish I'd been a sailor
And had felt the sea at work.
To watch the stars light up the sky
And see a rainbow burst.
I only can imagine,
The glory of it all
And wonder to myself if I've lived
at all.
The last of his kind and molded especially for the
twentieth century,
With the intensity, courage and dream that few others
before him had possessed.
Draped in usual defeat,
Yet branded with the will to continue on,
The legend remains strong.
Admist the fury and bloodshed of the continuous battle,
Through the cloud of uncertainty and tears of despair,
He remains mobile.
Strong to the cause of the land.
Strong to cause of each soul.
For this legend is bless with two souls.
The last of its kind.
Determined to win at life,
He bucks the logic,
Overcomes the set backs,
And becomes stronger with each escape.
When each soul has taken its last breath,
And the legend is finally buried,
The twentieth century's mold will be broken,
Only distant voices will be heard speaking out to the
rest of us,
'Few have two souls, the legend is dead,
Weep green Ireland for now you are alone.'
(from my novel FEW HAVE TWO SOULS)
My mind grows weary,
And I begin to feel a sense of defeat.
For another day has been used up.
As I lie in my bed,
Sifting through the days events
My eyes fill with tears
And my heart weighs sorely upon my soul,
For as I separate the bad from the good
The piles sit unevenly.
The world - I fear,
Is nearly at the end of killing itself.
The unloving acts
That so many people have let over take them -
Are, I'm afraid,
Literally suffocating all of us.
She wept.
With such uncontrollable brilliance
That I felt powerless.
Wildly - she moaned and groaned
her sorrow,
As the firmament beneath took the brunt
of her agony.
Then, in the middle of her rage
Streaks of exaggerated lightning
Danced across the sky to a rhythm all its
own,
While a raw,
Almost bloodcurdling thunder bellowed.
Then - later
As the sun,
Dared to peek through a thin cloud
Her weeping ceased to be,
And in time the bellowing hushed.
Hesitantly, the sun -
In all its brilliance - illuminated the sky
In a shade of such blinding brightness that
I knew the sky was smiling.
Who am I?
I am a lighthouse that isn't needed any longer.
Tears that go unseen and whispers not heard.
I am unanswered questions.
Barren outstretched arms and unreturned love.
Who am I?
I am everyone who wants to be free.
Forgotten incarcerated people and the mentally ill.
I am battered children with nowhere to go,
And the elderly who have no one to go to.
Who am I?
I am yesterday, today and tomrrow with hopes and dreams.
Miles that went untraveled.
Lives that went forgotten and memories that weren't
built.
Who am I?
I am all of the romantic words ever written.
Special feelings that are created from music.
Silence that is shared with a smile
And laughter that is priceless.
Who am I?
I am every thought, hope and emotion that was ever
created.
Who am I?
I am the eyes of the soul.
Everyday I'm carved at.
Little by little, I'll be a pile of human sawdust.
My tears will one day break the smile
I wear.
My solid body then will melt away.
Leaving only my imagination
Which when see by you, reality,
Will die of fright.
It comes slowly.
Slithering, like a snake approaching
its prey.
Consuming the unprotected sunlight,
Like a well run vacuum.
Then, finally, it's done.
The day has been engulfed,
It is now evening.
She wrapped her arms around him,
For a moment of their lives.
Not knowing if the charm would last
To make it through the night.
He arrived sos oft and gently,
That at first they were unaware,
But the darkness made his playful fling
And caught them in his lair.
(for Chris)
You are no different from me.
We were created the same way,
Wondered, while staring at the sky,
Cried, when it hurt to much to keep it in.
Laughed so hard that our stomachs ached.
Because we are who we have allowed ourselves to become,
Is the only real difference.
Our failures, joys, unused dreams and lost yesterdays,
Are a part of each of us.
Where we are today in our minds,
Can make where we are today physically bearable.
I must see to myself.
For only I know my weakness,
As well as my talents.
I have only me to ease my troubled and
burdened mind.
It's up to me to entertain my moods,
And it's only me who must mop up my
unknown tears,
That to most -
Would no doubt be analyzed as only self-
pity.
My fears of loneliness at times nearly tear
me from reality.
Moments pass and I wonder how I've made
it through.
Then, as if in a glimmer of last chance - hope,
I remember, tomorrow.
And my entire self sighs,
For I know that again,
I must see to myself.
Stay awhile longer.
At least until I'm sure,
Sure of myself.
Or sane enough to face anything,
Stay awhile longer,
At least, forever.
I remember hours of fear that hurt worse
than my pain.
Days that seemed to move only in slow,
black and white motion,
And weeks that now seem like they were
years ago -
Instead of being only a while back.
I had never really faced a moment of death,
And after I made myself calm down,
I knew that either way -
I would be all right.
I am a woman,
Facing all of my tomorrow's alone.
Never,
Not in any of my day-dreams did I
imagine my life
Alone.
Whether it's God's plan
Or my stupidity,
It is done.
My heart beats differently than yous.
It seems to run a parallel race with my mind.
Which at times maneuvers faster than the speed of light.
Dreams of an unexplainable hue edge me into a tomorrow,
Most will never be acquainted with.
Flying in and out of reality with the power of a single idea,
While -
Married to a pen and yellow writing pad
Is the way I live.
My emotions which have never been at one level for any amount of time,
Tend to drip a continuous flow of tear drops
Which at times contain a small portion of my reality -
Brutally beaten an scarred.
I can though - tell the difference,
Live sufficiently in both
While craving for something better.
For I am a writer.
A single person of great importance to the world -
If in the arena of controlled existence.
Having never reached that level - as yet,
I live my other life on paper.
Expressing God, love, tears, fears and failures
In my way.
The only way I know how to.
By being a writer.
A person who can cry through black ink -
Touch lovingly and hold, with words oddly arranged on paper.
And with the ability to know every person
In this sometimes evil world,
Because I put down on paper what everyone feels -
At some-time in their life.
Simply because I am a writer.
I'm different I am,
I like younger men,
The ones who are cute and so very aloof.
They make me feel pretty and somewhat
alluring,
But there are some that I know
More appealing than others,
And those are the ones who desire another!
Forever?
You want me forever?
It's happening!
All the years I spent dreaming about it,
And it's here, right now!
I knew he loved me,
Just by the way he'd say 'us',
But now a diamond!
And a promise of forever,
Oh yes!
I'm reaching out for you.
But in my own way.
Gently and with ease.
Holding back is hard,
Something I'm taking a cram course in.
Do you need me?
Can't we helpl each other through life,
And grow together?
Be more than my friend.
Want and take me as I am.
Let us take a chance,
Together.
With understanding a special need,
And faith,
Let's open the door and try.
My tears are endless,
And my body is drained.
With no sense of direction I drift,
In and out of painful moments
That scar me deeply.
My eyes search for love.
My soul's need for a harbor
That I can escape to -
Is desperate.
I sigh,
With only my ears hearing nothing,
My empty arms - remain barren,
And the struggle to go on continues.
I thought I couldn't go on.
Then you arrived, smiling,
Wanting to love me and live all at one time.
You wanted to touch me and I cried.
Not because I was a loner or frightened
But because that's all I knew.
I finally reached out, and touching you made
my tears dissolve.
I saw the living going on around me,
So you gently unfolded my chained heart,
Living and loving is magnificent.
Love is a glance and knowing he's there.
A reassuring smile when there's a care,
A hand to hold for no reason at all,
Or firmly to hold so you won't fall.
Love is a sharing thing to grow everyday.
A beautiful feeling that can make your day.
When I turn my life around,
Memories of you will be neartly stored away.
Souvenirs from past moments will lay buried -
Inside books that I'll forget I have.
My nights will be filled with peaceful sleep
And I'll cry for you no more -
I will have gone on,
Inviting new people into my life,
And allowing myself to enjoy each new day
with all that it offers.
And pray that I will truly survive without you.
This time I'll plan a little better, love a little longer,
listen a little harder.
This time I'll be there faster, be more understanding,
be more sure of myself.
This time I won't let our love die, let you go away mad,
let my feelings be first.
This time I'll love you with my heart and not my ego.
Come to me
With only ecstasy on your mind -
And we will begin.
Begin to unfold the mysteries that make us
Into the shells other see.
We will shine as a new day does -
But with a glow meant only for each other.
Come to me
With only anticipation in your heart -
And tomorrow will be filled with
Living and happiness.
Contentment will reign around us.
Come to me
As I come to you
Completely.
(for Doug Williams)
If I were sixteen,
This whole situation with you
Could be talked about.
The feeling of attraction would handled
with -
An autograph.
However,
I am not sixteen
And my attraction too, needs a reaction -
Not a piece of paper.
So I'll wait.
And if a reaction is impossible
From you,
I'll file you away,
But not forever -
Because I never lock my memory box.
I went through some old things today.
Items I thought were everything I would ever
need.
Pictures of friends and good times.
Laughter that howled into the wee hours,
While secrets went cavorting.
I can't seem to remember some of those items,
And the ones that looked used, I worry for those.
Who was the girl beside me?
I'm sure I knew her, probably very well.
Is it just because it was yesterday -
Or because other things have taken their place.
We are the only ones left,
And we're being swallowed up by time and space,
Leaves me frightened.
It seems as if the stars are pulling us closer,
Closer and still closer around them.
We are linked by once mutual feelings that I
no longer comprehend,
I finally reach out only to find no one.
I am becoming more comfortable with my life,
I'm still unsure of why it has opened up to be
filled with only myself -
But I'm learning to deal with it.
To except that my life is different than my
sisters and friends
Who have children and husbands.
I'm not really lonely.
Lonely is such an over-used word
With meanings that vary from pity to heartbreak.
My loneliness -
Are needs and desires that are not touched by
another's love.
Time has traveled quickly since we left that
home of ours,
And while sitting near a churchyard I realize
just how far.
Patience is your middle name,
And love has made your soul.
For miles we traveled side by side -
For what I do not know.
But now we're heading home my love
And 'we' are on my mind.
For when the road for us does end
I wonder what we'll find.
Like a breath of moon-glow,
As it's being drawn to a mirror of water,
I knew.
It was written all over your face.
Love.
Being tender and gentle is easy,
Especially when you're strong.
And you are both.
As with moon-glow, stand fast,
Yet be mellow.
For I could not return your love,
If you wouldn't bend to engulf me.
My heart beats differently than yours.
It seems to run a parallel race with my mind,
Which at times maneuvers faster than the speed of light.
Dreams of an unexplainable hue edge me into tomorrows,
Most will never be acquainted with.
Flying in and out of reality with the power of a single idea, while -
Married to a pen and yellow writing pad
Is the way I live.
My emotions, which have never been at one level for any amount
of time,
Tend to drip a continuous flow of tear drops,
Which at times contain a small portion of my reality -
Brutally beaten and scarred.
I can though - tell the difference,
Live suffieciently in both
While craving for something better.
For I am a writer.
A single person of great importance to the world -
If in the arena of controlled existences..
Having never reached that level - as yet,
I live my other life on paper.
Expressing God, love, tears and failures
In my way.
The only way I know how to be,
A writer.
A person who can cry through black ink -
Touch lovingly and hold, with words oddly arranged on paper.
And with the ability to know every person
In this sometimes evil world,
Because I put down on paper what everyone feels -
At sometime in their life.
Simply because I am a writer.
