Tag Archives: poetry

To Be Celebrated

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With a flurry of handshakes

Or kind words of “well done”

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With group hugs

Or pats on the back

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With hurried phone calls

Or squeals of joy

Others things are meant

To be celebrated

With thankful prayers

And silent, smiling hearts

celebrate

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In That Moment

It was one of those moments

where it seemed to stretch on forever

because it does.

I will carry

that peace

that excitement

that serenity

that safety

that bliss

that openness

that fun

that freedom

that love

forever

because I have chosen

for that

for this

moment

to never end.

Life may take me

hundreds of miles aways

and scores of years past

but that moment

this moment

will live on

as long as I do.

In that moment,

I felt an overwhelming

gratefulness for my life

and for the people who

make it worthwhile,

oh so much more than worthwhile

It is truly a blessing

to feel the love of life,

and I did

and I still do

stars

user:Unsplash

Trapped

You used to come so easy to me,

and now I can hardly get a phrase out.

I string together a few letters

and a gust of wind blows them away

higher than any kite in the sky,

but I can still see it.

I yearn for the writing high,

that ache filled.

I crave the feeling of accomplishment

when finishing a piece

and having nothing left to exhale.

It seems like I can’t even

breathe out anymore

with how much my words are trapped.

And it hurts

me

it hurts

to not be able to write

something so simple

and hugely complex.

I miss it.

I’m trapped:

Ask me to write a scholarship essay,

I’ll have it to you in 20 minutes.

Quiz me on Gutenberg printing press influence on the Protestant Reformation in a short answer essay,

I will provide exquisite details bringing a tear to any teacher’s eye.

For my own pleasure,

write a poem or chapter in my novel.

. . . nothing . . .

If I didn’t know better,

I’d think I have forgotten how.

And the little inspiration

I have had

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Select Few

How is it that something so magnificently gorgeous

has become mundane?

How is it that beauty

no longer stops the world

just to stand in awe of it?

How is it that splendor

became normal?

How is it that a fly

is something you swat at

and not wonder at?

How is it that the letter  “T”

is in almost every sentence

and we do not hold it in reverence

whenever we cross those lines?

How is it that sharpening a pencil

does not astound us

in its incredible feat?

How is it that God created all the world

but we only revel in the glory of a select few?

California_High_Desert_Sunrise

Wikimedia/Jessie Eastland

The Moon, My Friend

The moon, though, is a different matter entirely

Forever bolstering a light not his own

His limited and frugal glow

Barely enough to see by

Compared to his older sister

Who laughs unbashedly

And flings wide her embrace

At every chance meeting

Moon lits up not the sky

But just a path

Not enough to see the world by

And sometimes not even him

He promises to be by my side

Then leaves after a couple of days

He smiles wide

But it is pock marked and grey

No where near as joyous as his sister’s

He is always hiding something,

Never telling the full story

I would call moon a fickle friend

Not necessarily entertaining when he’s here

But at least he’s strong enough

To bare and show his scars

And maybe he shines just enough

To illuminate the important things

As for his inconsistent presence

Ever thought to wonder if

He wants to leave?

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.

God Didn’t Have To

God didn’t have to create beauty

but He did

God didn’t have to create color

He could have made the world only in shades of orange

but He created too many colors for us to count

God didn’t have to create smiles

He could have dulled us to emotion

but He created that feeling you get inside

when you know you are loved and that you love

God didn’t have to create rhythm

He could have made sounds dissociated from each other

but He created melodies that resound in your head

and march with your heartbeat

God didn’t have to create memory

He could have unhooked us from time

and only exist in the present

so much heartache and regret would be wiped away

and with it would be childhood friends and the smell of fresh cut grass

but He created moments that last forever in hearts

God didn’t have to create communication

He could have made us live in our own secluded existence

and prevent fighting and harsh words

and prevent jokes and “I love you”

but He created over six thousand languages

and countless ways to say “happy”

God didn’t have to create anything

but He did

I think God is an optimist

and we should admire the extravagance of a sunset

and not the ending of a day

God created beauty because He wanted to

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Niagara Falls on a recent vacation

 

Beyond Words

I am a writer at heart

I like to compile my thoughts and emotions

into strings of words

that make others have thoughts and emotions

and so when I cannot explain

what and how much you mean to me

I am annoyed

and at the same time

I cherish it

and so I won’t try to say

what you mean to me,

I will just say you are beyond words

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Pixabay/user:cocoparisienne