The Confusion that is Life

An innocent baby is born

With no knowledge of this cruel world

But she learns

She learns from a tender age

That, things do not come in easy packages

Food, education, clean water

Sleep

But….

She is strong

She learns to depend on herself

To take the heartache and forgive

That courage is not without fear

But fear conquered

That tears are not a weakness

But a cleansing of the soul

That success is not based on the salary you earn

But the appreciation that failure leads to knowledge

That strength is not sitting on the throne all alone

But knowing when to reach out a helping hand

This baby learns

She grows and matures

And realizes that in this chaos,

All that is left is choice,

The choice to live for material possession, fame, recognition and all the unimportant things we are now taught to crave

Or….

The choice to live for self-discovery and self-acceptance

To appreciate family, friends and even strangers

To bask in nature’s treasures

To realize in times of pain

That there is someone worse off

Who knows what she will choose

What anyone will choose

The one thing that is sure

Is that life is a journey of many roads

Some are smooth, others bumpy

Some carefree, others filled with worry

Some lead us to the things we want

Others lead us to the things we need

No matter where these roads take us

Know that life is never easy

However, the following tools are always a soothing balm

Strength of character

Sense of integrity and honor

Honesty

Compassion for your neighbor

And most importantly

Love for one another.

Lost Love

You say you love me

Do you really?

Actions speak louder than words

Yours say you don’t.

You claim to need me

If I were gone, would you miss me?

My company seems more of an annoyance

Is my character that much of a nuisance?

“I want you,” you say

Why do I not feel desire in your touch?

A lonely bed is my only companion,

Cold and unaffectionate.

Your eyes used to light up at the sight of me

Your body ready and responsive.

Now dead eyes greet me

As your body turns away.

Our conversations used to bring laughter to this cold apartment

Now there are only words left unsaid.

We used to love

We used to share.

Now passion is a distant memory

Will we ever again be as we were?

Only time will tell.

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.

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.