Bleeding Soul

I’ve written another poem today that comes out of my innermost being. Instead of explaining my thoughts, today I shall let my poetry do the talking.  Try to take a guess, if you will, on what the author is trying to say?

 

Bleeding Soul

 

Her shields were set to maximum

The core was impenetrable

The crusty shell hardened around

The beautiful soul chose to drown

 

 

Joy but remained only surface deep

Like paper bags holding lava

Masks of smiles and short complete bliss

Hid the gaping, darkened abyss

 

 

Love refuses to conquer all

When it can’t enter the door

Love will melt any broken heart

But the deadbolt must first depart

 

 

Please open the chasm to give

Don’t hold back your talents and gifts

The cake will spoil if given years

One’s youth comes, then it disappears

 

 

If only this weeping girl could see

Peers, friends, lovers and passers by

All had in common the same soul

That she needn’t cry for control

 

 

Instead she stands ever alone

Beneath the lipstick, likes and charm

A rose internally bleeding

None knowing her inner pleading

 

 

Haven’t we learned from tales of old?

Not one is without past or sin

But still we fake a perfect life

We die from cloaking inner strife

Room of Forgotten Dreams

I woke up with a poem in my head this morning.

It was FINALLY a morning that I could sleep in because my parents had taken Riker over night. I have been sleep deprived since probably before he was born, but have been especially lacking the z’s over the last year. Riker loves to wake up between 5:30 – 6:30 am. He also often will either wet the bed, have a bad dream, wake to a missing toy, or just randomly wake to wanting to play. His earlier wake ups and interrupted nights usually happen when I either have been up way too late, or have a ton to do that day where I needed the extra sleep. Please tell me I’m not alone here with this dilemma!! lol

Any time I might get a chance to sleep in my mind comes alive in me, and this time was no different. I started thinking about possible changes and additions to my book and then the thought of a poem hit me square in the noggin.

It came to me as I laid in the warmth of the blankets not wanting to escape into the risks of the day. What would happen if I continued to retreat back into comfort instead of following my dreams to change the world? Well, these thoughts brought about my “Room of Forgotten Dreams”. I would love to hear your feedback!

 

 

Room of Forgotten Dreams

 

The bright sphere rises over the room of comfort

She pulls the warmth back over her new form

Sleep and safety forever her allies

Keeping her from a possible hail storm

 

 

The bright sphere rises over the room of comfort

Dreams fill her sleepless nights and dark dwelling

Left alone, suppressed they fade ever still

Fear is the perfume for the repelling

 

 

The bright sphere rises over the room of comfort

Voices pound and call from the bleeding walls

Come out, no stay; here, no there, now away

Stay in solitude, Escape restless thralls

 

 

The bright sphere rises over the room of comfort

Males will tumble and fall under the warmth

Rings rust, veils tear, vows forgotten and lost

Joy never found returns into the earth

 

 

The bright sphere sets over the dark room of comfort

A chill rises in the abandoned form

No risks taken, but no rewards to gain

The world lost, never to see her transform

 

 

May you all get up today and take those risks and refuse to be tempted to retreat into comfort if at first you don’t succeed!! Be blessed and be a blessing to others! 🙂

Forging Diamonds

Today I felt the urge to write something different.

I used to love writing poems. It has been close to a decade since I last wrote one though. I was a single woman at the time. Wow, time flies!!

Coincidentally, during the time of the last poem I wrote, I was trying to find myself. I was figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

I find myself in a similar situation currently. I have no idea what tomorrow holds for me in virtually every aspect of my life here on earth. (Praise God for my absolutely amazing hubby and wonderful son that I have through it all, which I didn’t have 9 years ago!) You might recall me touching on this in one of my past posts, Searching For The Right Shade.

But I digress. Today I felt led to renew the poet inside of me. Please enjoy the read and I would love to hear your thoughts! May God forge diamonds out if us all. 🙂

 

Forging Diamonds

She entered into darkness

The room gasped at the new sight

One powerless and frozen

Handed a child, scared and helpless

 

A scream pierced the silence

The figure ran from his spawn

Engulfed in arms of strangers

Her world was ruled by compliance

 

Loneliness imprints with fear

Fear is the friend of the weak

Save her from desolation

Bring her out of this voided sphere

 

Roots run deep in drought and winds

Shells made dazzling by harsh tides

Queens are born in war, not peace

Endless pressures will forge Diamonds

 

Fire rises in ashes

Want shan’t hold back her spirit

Hell hath no fury or wrath

As a woman lost in masses

 

She laughs at the infinite storm

Within her grows unending

Passion and life eternal

Strength comes out from the anguished form

 

Teach us your ways, oh daughter

We learn from your example

No longer shackled by life

Drought has brought out living water

 

Light embraces her demise

The room morns at the lost sight

A child holds her frozen hand

Her powerful spawn stands strong, wise.

Never Lost – A Tribute to John and Marie Gibson

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Losing a loved one is never easy. But then again, are they truly lost? They may no longer be beside you, within a short drive to visit, or able to talk with you, but are they really truly lost?

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My short answer is no.

I have felt closer to my grandfather this week than when he died almost 7 years ago.

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I have thought more often and laughed and cried more at memories of my grandmother more this week than the past two years put together.

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I have discovered in just the past few days that their memory, their legacy, their talents, their wisdom, their knowledge through hardships, their love, will never ever be lost.

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As I write I’m sitting her eating hard pretzels with a smile lit on my face. My grandfather loved pretzels. Often times my parents would have my grandparents’ baby sit my sister and I for a day or three (like on their anniversary) and we would get to experience life with them. A favorite pastime of mine was to lay nestled against my grandpop on his big recliner watching old movies with the likes of Bob Hope, Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Bing Crosby, Abbott and Costello, etc. He would bring out a huge plastic tub of hard pretzels and we would eat them together as we would laugh at the movie.

Meanwhile my grandmom would sometimes join us, or be in the adjoining kitchen cooking, cleaning, reading, or knitting.

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I’m on the left, my cousin Brittany is on the right. Aren’t we adorable? 😉

Grandmom might not have been a chef and tended to use Pillsbury a lot and over boil vegetables, but she tried her hardest to create dishes she knew her grandkids loved. And she succeeded beautifully! I loved her cooking, and enjoyed watching her cook while Amy and I playfully sock skated on their always waxed kitchen floor.

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She made one dish in particular to utter perfection: Macaroni and Cheese!  Oh, it was heavenly! To this day I make my own mac and cheese with her in mind and model it after hers. She would have a large casserole dish, fill it with all the cheesy goodness mixed with elbow pasta, and then she would top it with breadcrumbs and finally cut butter all over the top. Into the oven it went. Meanwhile she simmered on the stovetop stewed tomatoes with lots of herbs and garlic. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Wish I had a picture to share of that yummy beauty!

Grandmom also LOVED to read. Always romance novels though. She had boxes and boxes of them! I share her passion, although mine involves thrillers, classics, and mysteries with, of course, romance intertwined!

The love I have for the sea and ocean runs deep within me. And I know I got it from them. Grandpop loved his sail boats and being on the water. I never got the chance to sail with him, but I look forward to one day sailing with them in heaven!

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My love for writing and art are not a secret to you all. I don’t consider myself an expert on either field, but I have a drive and passion to always improve and get better.

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Colored Pencil drawing I made for them for their 50th wedding anniversary. I was 12.

My grandpop didn’t consider himself an expert either, but he greatly enjoyed many artistic hobbies and passed each of them down to the next generations.

I had already known he loved to paint. I inherited with great excitement one of my favorite paintings of his:

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This week though, I also learned he had a hidden love to write, however small it was! (Because this is the only piece I know of)…

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How fascinating is that?! I love that the poem ends with the type of humor he always had. He always had a joke or a laugh on his lips. He was a joy to be around and talk to. Him and my grandmom were always joking with each other and playfully bantering back and forth. He’d tease her, and she loved it. She’d jump into his lap and plant a kiss on him and he’d shout “Get off Marie!” but his eyes twinkled and then he’d laugh.

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I yearned for their kind of love at an early age. I thank them, and my parent’s undying love, for showing me what true love really was. It taught me to wait for my soul mate, and that’s exactly what I did! (gah, love you so freakin’ much, Andrew!!)

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He loved to play his accordion and harmonica. He’d play for hours! Grandmom loved to hear him play, especially when he would play their song “Whispering”. He played it every time for her.

And those are just a few of the talents, loves, and lessons these two have passed on to me. I’m only one of 6 grandkids, and they have 5 great grandkids (plus 2 more are joining the family through marriage soon) that have their own stories to tell.

Image may contain: 2 people, people smiling, people standing, shoes and outdoor(My son Riker, and my cousin Donna’s son Travis)

 

So no, they will never be lost to us. Not only their memory stays, but many pieces of them travel down to each of those that are left on this earth to continue on the journey.

See you later Grandpop & Grandmom!

 

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