Breeze Poetry

That's what I long to be. A breeze. Never in one place, forever flying, a breath of fresh air; a sigh of relief.

[breezepoetry]

I guess you never really realize that your fists are clenched, tightly holding on to everything something anything. Until someone comes along and they see your bloody palms and they pry your hands open to reveal nothing. And at the sight of nothing you cry and then you sigh.

Cold, Dead, Hands

 Julie Breeze

[breezepoetry]

Contact

If I am to lose my voice someday

my words

my ink

my pages 

please...sing 

beat drums 

sound horns

and I will show you my heart 

with my skin

and I will tell you my story

with my feet

and I will dance through my history

and bring forth a new dynasty

and you will feel what I feel.

~ Julie Breeze

[breezepoetry]

Cacti Want Hugs Too

I think that’s why we keep going back to the things that break us.

They’re pitiful without us.

They whisper that they need us, otherwise they’ll die.

That without us they are weak and have no strength to fly.

They make us think that we’re a bird when we’re the fucking sky.

So it’s time to pull out the thorns they made us wear on their behalf,

and let the wounds heal into stars and burn their photograph.

For they are smaller than the dust we breathe,

they hold no crown nor staff.

Only embrace those who give you life, and oxygen. 

~ Julie Breeze

[breezepoetry]

What To Do When Your Petals Wilt

On empty roads I feel fullest

dancing across the glimmering pavement

water pelting my bare back

and I am able to unclench my fists

allowing myself to become as empty as these streets

unplugging my drain and letting it rain

all the fear, the doubt, the greed

all the insecurity, the envy, the lies I whisper to myself to help me rise from my bed

get out of me

leave my being and leave me empty

leave me crawling and clawing with little energy

because then

and only then

can I fill myself with dirt

and water myself with love

and bask in the light of truth

only then

when I am empty and bare and stripped down to my soul

will I have room to grow

into me

~ Julie Breeze 

[breezepoetry]

Astronaut in White

Like a shy, Summer love, I blushed, uncertain,

that he would accept my words.

I was dressed all in white to match his eyes 

When a breeze swept me up like birds.

For I was a dandelion in love with the Moon

A small flower, soft with high hopes

But he was grand, majestic, and he turned all heads

From afar, I admired through telescopes.

He shined, oh he shined, much brighter than I 

Eyes gravitated to him naturally 

Larger than life, when I with one touch

Fall apart as a dying galaxy. 

Will he ever, will he ever, see what I see?

The similarities breathing in our skin?

We both hold wishes, whispered promises

From those whose thoughts are thin. 

And I’ll share mine with you, each and every word

Trusted to me by the lovers and the broken

Come down to Earth, dressed in all white

And I’ll listen to your words unspoken.

Because it must get lonely up there in space.

~ Julie Breeze

[lesmumblebees]

the day i met melancholy i was wearing a blue dress

though he’ll tell you i was in black from head to toe

he stays up until 4 am just to feel that special sadness that washes over you just before sunrise

he only reads books by authors dead and gone

he doesnt care much for the sky or the weather

but he makes me laugh, and he keeps me warm

gentle melancholy, staying awake for his 4am sadness.

[breezepoetry]

Break me open with rough hands          gentle eyes whisper your story into my skin with drunken murmurs          trembling lips Breathe me as I  guide you North, then South The nowhere And everywhere.

Compass

Julie Breeze 

[breezepoetry]

Touch my face as you would the petals of a wildflower field,  gentle,                caring,                               full of wonder, And hopelessly in love.

Mountain Showers

Julie Breeze

[deathbyvalentine]

I am sorry for hurting For not keeping that hurt contained, You see, I’m used to being terminal, internal, not a flooding fountain. I have always been a ship, not the sea, But now the waves are breaking, All I can taste is the salt. I want to shape this into something that will sustain me, damn me, or hurt me back. I am giving all I can to the war effort, Can’t you see? In the West, the bells are chiming Somebody is winning, or dying Or some other such thing And the people are forming a cult around poetry and love, Accidentally inventing faith, An entire religion of creation where nothing ever dies alone. To the East, there are old tombs where nobody mourns Except for curious birds squinting at the forgotten names and the disrespectful deer who only need to eat.

(a.v.p)

[breezepoetry]

There Is More Water In Me Than Me

I prefer to view my reflection in water rather than in a mirror. 

Because I am not always still. 

I am not always smooth. 

I am not always clear. 

Sometimes I am rough. 

Sometimes I am choppy. 

Sometimes I am murky. 

Sometimes I move faster than my current will allow. 

Sometimes, just when I think I’m embracing, and holding up my loved ones, I’m pulling them down and they begin to drown. 

Sometimes I speak life. 

Sometimes people can’t get me out of their lungs. 

Sometimes I am calm; drifting with the wind. 

And in viewing myself in these waves, I am more me than I’ve ever been. 

~ Julie Breeze

[lifeinpoetry]

Poetry made visible what my body already knew.

Andrés Cerpa, from “Therefore,” published in Ploughshares (via lifeinpoetry)

[breezepoetry]

You Can Call Me Flower

Pluck my petals 

one

        by

              one

Like the strings of my heart, tuned to your song

And you’ll never have to wonder if I 

“love you”

                or

                     “not”

For I’d allow myself to be plucked by you, without a second thought.

~ Julie Breeze

[breezepoetry]

You

There are times when I forget to breathe

My mind focused on a thought beyond the dew

Traveling far from where I stand

When my lungs demand for air out of the blue

I inhale sharply, and my heart ceased to beat

Only for a moment or two

My soul so stuck in a daydream

That my breath from my mouth flew

Sometimes I forget to breathe

And at these times I am thinking of you. 

~ Julie Breeze

[breezepoetry]

How Do You Remind Yourself How Beautiful You Are?

Sometimes all I need is a sunset alone to remember that I am one. 

That I am a form that radiates light and speaks flowers into existence.

Sometimes all I need is a rainstorm to remember that I am one. 

That I have a calm yet booming voice that has the power to water souls. 

Sometimes all I need is a breath of fresh air to remember that I am one. 

That I am not a burden to my loved ones, but necessary, needed, and cherished.

Sometimes all I need is to climb a tree to remember that I am one. 

That I am strong and grounded, yet constantly changing and growing.

Sometimes all I need is a good poem to remember that I am one. 

That I am a work of art, and that the master of the universe has written my story.

~ Julie Breeze (breezepoetry.tumblr.com)

[breezepoetry]

CPR

Breathe

And feel your heart in your chest

Breathe

Feel your lungs expand and contract

Breathe

And softly remind yourself,

You were born to perform miracles, and existing is your greatness.

~ Julie Breeze (breezepoetry.tumblr.com)

[juansendizon]

you don’t have to ask for forgiveness for the way you choose to protect your energy.

defiance (via juansendizon)

[breezepoetry]

Maybe I was a plant before I became human.  For my veins seem like ferns thriving through the white noise. And maybe it was a longing to fly that made my leaves die.

Julie Breeze (breezepoetry.tumblr.com)