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I write poetry about things that affect me personally, whether physical occurrences in my life, or emotional ones. 100 percent of my poems are written with emotion, but less than 10 percent of them are based purely on imagination. That means that if you can ferret out and see through the metaphors, you can see directly into my life, and even more than that, into my soul. I find that thought scary sometimes. But I am not one to give in to fear! I use poetry as a way to sort and manage thoughts and feelings. That means that a lot of my poetry is based on inconvenient truths, things that are bothering me in my life. I feel everything to the full extent, all at once. I am not afraid to feel. I believe that the more you feel, the stronger you are; and the more you feel the sad things, the sooner you can feel better. I always say, give me 2 days and a heartfelt poem, and I will be fine again, guaranteed. Somehow once it is down on paper, it doesn't linger in my thoughts anymore. That means I sort through things very quickly. Through one obstacle and on to the next! (update: apparently it doesnt work for everything) Since my poetry is written while my feelings are still raw, I pour a lot of passion into them. However I am not just a poet, I am an artist, and think as such. That means I write however I feel; I don't follow any set rules. I have always been that way. So, enjoy!
Surrounded by friends
... continued
As you would like
To be treated?
... continued
You made everything,
From the tiniest flower,
To the oceans,
To the deer that run through the pine.
In the sky I see Your vastness-
I know that You are immense.
From the most brilliant of sunsets
I know that You are glorious.
And in the sunrise,
I see Your mercy,
For You give us every day.
In the changing of seasons
I see Your patience,
For all things are in their time.
In the pounding of the ocean waves,
In hurricanes and tempests,
I see Your power.
In the stars that shine down in the night
I see that You are infinite.
I close my eyes;
You are omnipresent.
Almighty.
The wind does not give way;
For You are bold.
The mountains reach into the clouds;
You are majestic.
In the detail of a snowflake,
The numbered petals of a flower,
I know that You are precise
In the soaring of the eagle
I know, You are awesome
I see the doe as she nuzzles her fawn,
I know that You are loving.
I see Your pride-
As the elk bull stands over his harem.
In the balance of nature,
I see that You are wise.
Each creature has its place,
Its purpose.
And us-
As guardians;
For we hold the ultimate power.
When we show respect,
All creatures move aside for us.
All things were lovingly given,
From the spring rain
To the strawberries that
Ripen in the grass.
I look out upon the earth
With shame;
For we take with greed
And not gratitude.
Who are You, God?
Assigned so many names;
The words of the people are many.
Whose version am I to believe?
From the mouths of the people,
Deceiving tongues.
Who are You?
You are the Ultimate.
I am lowly, a nobody.
Yet You do not forsake me in prayer.
You gave us the earth as our playground.
I know You through what I can see.
The towns.
... continued
He wasn’t very big.
It seemed comical, his ferocity.
... continued
I should have known.
I chose this life
... continued
Warming my face.
My eyes seek the horizon
Across an open space.
The breeze whispers
In the grass,
Gliding in waves
Where the wildflowers amass.
My hair brushes gently
Against my cheek;
The wind
Encoded, speak-
In words that my soul
Craves to hear;
Encrypted,
Quietly endear.
It is here
That I slip off my shoes;
My inhibitions
Shed; now amuse;
And I walk
In silent bliss;
My toes, the soft green,
Playfully kiss.
My skin freckles,
Every part of me in love.
My eyelids find solace,
Reverent in light from above.
Joyous, my soul.
Lifted, my heart.
Painted, my smile-
A work of art.
Laughter finds me,
Here with the birds;
A chorus of songs,
Glorious beyond words.
The blue of the sky;
Clouds dance,
Winged silhouettes;
A lofty romance.
In joy, I remember
The ones that I love,
And friendships
Thereof.
But here in this place,
In the end,
It’s myself I remember
To befriend.
It’s so chilly
Under the spotted lily.
... continued
More so, of friends.
Togetherness
... continued
Wood, meet flame-
The trees concede;
... continued