poetic words

word writer and thought thinker, cat lover and coffee drinker; all poems are written by me, unless stated otherwise.

[artistic-poetic]

“Light up the hearts with the rays of the lamp that sheddeth abroad it’s beams, disclosing to those among Thy people whom Thou hast bounteously favored, the realities of all things. “

- ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

[gloriousmayhem-deactivated20170]

[artistic-poetic]

Fly. 

Take off towards the thin 

Line of where the ocean meets the sky

The salty scented sea wind 

Blows underneath your wings

Hear the way the water sings

Softly until it crashes against the hull 

Of the metal boat can you fight the pull

Of freedom in the endless space

The dream of finally finding a place

Where you can roam the sky in peace

A place you can call home at least. 

[artistic-poetic]

Thoughts from Montreal

[artistic-poetic]

It seems to be, 

That unless my heart is crashing in my chest in a bloody mess 

And my mind is whirling on a speeding carousel 

And my hands are thin leaves shaking with fear 

I have nothing to say

God, I wish pretty things 

would be as intersting

As broken ones.  

[artistic-poetic]

sometimes

it’s just nice to talk

with someone

who has the same interests 

and just understands

who I am.

[palerlotus]

Neuron impulses. 

[artistic-poetic]

thoughts on a long flight

it hurts the dark, the absence of light

in my chest like a painfully expanding heart yearning for home. 

so scared of what is to come

so attached to that what is left behind

holes only ache when there is nothing to fill them with.

[artistic-poetic]

Where there is love, nothing is too much trouble. There is always time.

Abdu’l-Baha

[artistic-poetic]

I miss you more than I should

But call you less than I’d like. 

[artistic-poetic]

what is a friend?

What is a friend?

In truth?

I think sometimes we love a person for their looks. Or for what they have. 

Fair enough, that is what attracts most people. But looks fade and money is spent. What stays of that love then? Unexceeded expectations. 

Sometimes, I believe, we love someone for loving us.   

Life throws us a person, and we love them, randomly, shortly, confused. 

We love what we cannot have. A person playing hard to get is a challenge, we love them, for not loving us. 

Randomly, shortly, confused. 

What is a friend?

In truth?

Are we even capable of knowing? More like a life long quest, I think. 

A common goal, a love for the other’s soul. Maybe. 

What does that mean?

Well, for everyone a different thing. For me it’s you. 

[artistic-poetic]

what life is not supposed to be but is.

Life is a series

Of uneventful events

Unrequited love

Some accomplishments

But more failures

And then it ends. 

[bryandaugherty]

[artistic-poetic]

I wish to see this

In real life

Not just pixels on a screen.

But for that to happen

I must travel

Farther than I ever could

Farther than I ever dared to leave my home.

And for that,

I lack not only money

But courage. 

[artistic-poetic]

When one is released from the prison if self, that is indeed freedom. For the self is the greatest prison.

Abdul'-baha

[artistic-poetic]

rush

rush from your boring mind 

and into the greatest perhaps you can find

feel the excitement of standing with the tips of your toes

at the sharp edge of a cliff

rush, before you are stuck in the quicksand 

of repetitive thoughts, stiff

conversations and bland

chatter, rush and run and leap

go seek 

whatsoever you want

for life is yours to live

and after death you will sleep. 

[artistic-poetic]

some nights there is no moon

and stars seem dim and wide apart

the blackness will consume

the rays shining inside the dark

I wander in the black

through empty towns and villages

and while the streets I comb

I seek no more than once to find

a place i can call home.

[derivings]

Untitled by esparist

[artistic-poetic]

Morning

Soft covers

Rough sweater

The light white in it’s serenity

A perfect instant captured in a drop of water

She sits in the dew drop of morning

A time to think and prepare

Before the day begins 

To steal away

Her calm before the storm. 

[artistic-poetic]

Behind the wall

“Last night I heard the screaming,

Loud voices Behind the wall,

Another sleepless night for me,

It won’t do no good to call,

The police

Always come late, 

If they come at all. 

Last night I heard the screaming, 

Loud voices Behind the wall,

Then a silence that shilled my soul,

Prayed that I was dreaming, 

When I saw the ambulance in the road. 

And the policeman said, 

“I’m here to keep the peace”

The crowed dispersed,

I think we all could have used some sleep.”

-Tracy Chapman