Late Night Creativity-Imperfect Me

 I'm a night owl. Some of the best things I writing, happen late at night. Something about a quiet house, everyone else asleep gets the creative juices flowing.

This is a poem very close to my heart.

It's call Imperfect Me.

If you can relate, I would love to hear you story.

Enjoy!!

IMPERFECT ME

This loneliness eats at my soul

My chest is heavy with sadness

No matter what I do, I can’t shake it

This listlessness saps the energy from my body

Leaving me wanting

What exactly am I wanting????

*Sigh*

Maybe one day I will figure it out

Until then, I want, I need, desperate; I crave that something just out of reach

I hear the ticking of the clock

Seconds, minutes, hours

My defeated shadow moves across the cold room that feels so much like a prison

The telephone, useless, no one’s calling

I have nothing

Nothing but this self-refection

All this pain I need to dig through to see that infamous light on the other side

Inside my still body, the tempest grows

It beats at the shores of my mind, leaving me drenched

The pain floods the weak boundaries

And I am unable to suppress it, unable to contain it

I spills over, battering my body, curled, tears streaming

The sobs assault my senses

Self-reflection, this necessary evil that sweeps every corner of my being

No matter how dark, no matter how isolated

Nothing is inaccessible

Nothing

And finally

In the sparkling rays of the morning sun,

I rise, cleansed, a better me

I step forward, all the self-loathing, doubt and hesitation left behind

In its place, self-love and appreciation, confidence and self-acceptance

This is me, flaws and cracks, parts of all the things that make me unique, special, worth love

This is me, breathing in what peace of mind feels like

And I smile

Help Me!!!!

This is a poem for the not-so-good days.

What am I feeling?

I don’t know

Everything is a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings

Who do I turn to??

There is this hole

It feels like it’s swallowing me from the inside out like some black hole floating through space, devouring everything in its path

Every day it gets larger and larger

Consuming more and more

Creating all these negative reflections and emotions

How do I deal with this??

Sometimes it’s too much to fight and I wallow in my sadness and feel crushed by the weight of this emptiness

“Help me!!!”

I scream silently but no one knows

No one hears

Does anyone care??

“Help me!!!”

Hope you enjoy!!!

Don't forget to rate and comment...

COMING HOME

This was one of the first short stories I ever wrote.


A lone cherry blossom tree sat comfortably on a green-carpeted, gently sloped hilltop. From the weeping branches, fuchsia pink petals were stolen by the late autumn breeze and drifted with a carefree abandon, all the while perfuming the damp air with an intense red rose fragrance, enticing the image of passionate kisses of a late night romance.
Bees hummed, bobbing itinerants suckling the sweet nectar from tiny flowers peeking through the pasture as ants prepared for the upcoming winter. As sparse clouds lazily danced towards an unknown location, they lightly drizzled drops that sparkle like pear-shaped diamonds in the late afternoon sun, the dewy shades of pinks, reds, purples and oranges of the sky reflecting off  them.
A samurai walked over the hill. His red kimono was flowing gently in the breeze as his long jet-black hair caressed his face as if trying to take away the pain etched on his scarred face. His wary eyes scanned the surrounding environment and his war-ravaged mind  was somewhat soothed by the scene. He stood still, letting the atmosphere take over his soul, letting the sound of the wind travelling through the grass console his heart and mind, driving out the cries of the injured and dying. The scents of the cherry blossoms and the afternoon rain forced the scent of blood from his lungs; he breathed deep, taking it in. He could almost taste the purity of this hilltop, not devastated by war; he could feel the peace seep into his core, a lavender coloured lake of serenity, washing over every crack and crevice, purging him of the acts he committed in the name of justice and the peace for his village, which sat undisturbed below the hill. He stood there for who knows how long; minutes, hours, eternity, taking it all in, trying to leave the sins of battle behind. Trying to cleanse the images away.
The picture of his family flashed through his mind: his fragile, delicate wife with a heart filled with courage and bravery and his sweet and innocent son and daughter. They were the reason he fought this meaningless war; the reason that he still lives. To keep them safe, he would do any and everything.
He opened his piercing hazel eyes slowly and looked down on his village. Feeling the pull of home, this battle-scarred soldier took his first step; then the second; the third, his sword forgotten on his hip. A smile briefly touched his lip as a pink petal drifted by.
He had finally come home.

When You Found Me

This is something I just scribbled on a boring Sunday afternoon. Enjoy!!!
   

Drowning, suffocated by all the hypocracy of this self-destructive world. I thank God for the day you found me. In your arms, the nightmare of alarm clocks, deadlines and self-righteous dictators melt away into a deep blue sea of comfort and love. The bottomless waters of your love wash away the pollution of the mold that society dictates I should be.it cleanses this soul that bleeds while wars rage, forests are destroyed, children are abused, starved of the true, lasting affection that I have found with you. 

The day you found me, you gently coaxed the smile that was buried beneath the rubble back to the surface. You showed me the brighter side of this cold, uncaring world. You showed me the relief that the crimson sunset brings, how tears wash away the pressures of the day. That tears are not a sign of weakness but of strength. That day and every other day after, you reminded me how much little things make a difference; spending time with the ones you love, learning something new, savoring your favorite ice-cream cone, the comfort of a warm blanket on a cold night.

The day you found me, you helped me come to realization of my self-worth and love. You forced me to see the vast treasures of this world through unsullied eyes. I realized my capacity to love and be loved and even with disappointments, past, present and future, I know that I can be me, unique and beautiful, in the face of all this uncertainty.

For that day, today and tomorrow, I love you as I know you love me. I will always be here for you as you have been for me. For the days when you think you are not strong enough and cannot survive, come to the arms of the one you love and loves you. Smile and remember the day I found you.

Love is…..

Here's a short poem. Enjoy!!

Love is…..

The way you say the sweetest things to make me feel alright

Love is…..

The way you can make me smile with a glance when no one else can

Love is…..

The way my heart sighs when you enter a room

Love is…..

Every day that I have with you and the anticipation of tomorrow with you

Love is…..

The feeling that I feel this and every year with you

Love is…..

The hope of many more years with you

Love is…..

The way you love me

Love is…..

The way I love you

Love is…..

You and me, together for as long as we live

Love is…..

Having you reside in my heart and being forever alive in yours

In the land of imagination

In the land of imagination

I am queen

Prepared to rule as I see fit

Any offenders disagreeing with my reign,

Are free to leave

In the land of imagination

My kingdom is rich with laughter,

Flourishing with good health and wellbeing

Peace and love prevail

Greed and war have no place here.

In the land of imagination

Children are revered as the heirs to the future.

No child is hungry or thirsty

Or unloved,

Education is free

Sweets are aplenty,

Vegetables are a daily requirement of course.

In the land of imagination

We all appreciate each other’s difference

And celebrate our similarities.

Each man is flawed

But imperfections make us human and free to be

In the land of imagination

I am queen

Ruling with an iron fist

Understanding with a soft heart.

When my time comes

Another poem.

When my time comes

No matter how soon

Will my existence have made an impact?

A difference?

Will my actions today

Make you say, “Good Riddance.”

Or will tears of grieve accompany my departure from this earth?

When my time comes

Will I look back and think

“I wish I’d….”

Will my life had been filled with incomplete actions and words?

Would I have lives every day to the fullest?

Joyously; without reservation

With complete abandon

When my time comes

Would I have shown the ones that I love

The depth of my feelings?

My adoration?

Starting today

Every day will be an opportunity to say

“I love you”.

Starting today

To everyone who has wronged me

“I forgive you”.

Starting today

To everyone who has shown me an ounce of kindness

“Thank you”.

Starting today

My life is an example of a life truly lived

Not merely an existence

Starting today

Every breathe is a gift

And when my time comes

My last breath will be complemented by a smile.

Dreaming of a New World

Field of wheat?

Or is it a field of dreams?

Where none of the realities of today’s unforgiving world matter

Where the smell of the sweet breeze wipe away the smell of gun powder, the decay of dead bodies, the stench of greed.

Is it a place where the rays of the sun feel like beams of hope?

Hope for a better today where we are not so concerned with meaningless material possession, titles, and positions.

I look into this field and I almost believe

Believe that we can learn and appreciate the lessons nature tries to each

That we are one, divided not by race, class, nation, our own prejudices

That what you put into life and really living is what you get out of it

That we realize that protecting mother earth is the only way to continue this life and the journey beyond.

Sigh…….

This field can almost make me believe                

But reality awaits, cruel and unmerciful;

Like the hands that will ultimately harvest this land

But at this moment

None of it matters

I dream and feel the naïve hope

That maybe one day it will be as I see it.

A world where dreams grow and bloom and produce succulent fruits of hope

While seeds germinate into trees of peace.

Under Construction

Hi guys,
I'm sorry I've been absent for the last few days (or is it weeks?). Time seems to be running away from me, leaving me with a mouth full of dust.

I have been busy with the construction of my new store. N.B. Creationz and have been soooo busy.

I promise to be back in a few days with some new posts and news on my new store.

Thank you for understanding.

Under Construction

This blog and N.B. Creationz store is under construction.
Please return tomorrow.