Reposted ~ Explanation ~

hello there, you, reading this blog. i've decided to repost some of my old, perhaps cryptic, attempts at poetry that i had previously posted under another blog hoping that would help me gain poetic momentum. alas! no go. i've added them into this blog, keeping the original dates and adding "Reposted:" to the beginning of the title and tagging them with reposted also. if you would like (no judgement on my part whether you would or would not), use the tag reposted that i've included on this post as well to bring them up.

Reposted: snowy imaginings

think i'm hallucinating

seeing things that are not there

light shining through the window

shining on your hair

i stood bare foot in the dark

i couldn't light a match

light was glaring off the ice

the wind hasn't started blowing yet

you thought i was your angel

i thought we'd fly away

its over but not gone

its over and gone now

imagine we'd find something else to say

there's nothing left to say

Reposted: moon

i feel you molding me by your opinion and

my inner personality the real me

pushes back to be

my façade 

i feel nothing without you

i feel something about you

i feel everything falling from

my façade 

i look up to seen a moon in your neighbor's window...

this white white is what i didn't want to see and didnt know it till i did

it's the lights on and the window open

it's one way or the other in my book

this is all façade 

Reposted: english

I want to write

of cold, juicy plumbs,

stolen from the ice box

that taste the sweeter for it.

I want to write

of his last duchess

if anyone wonder what happened

to the faire-one's successor.

I want to write

of tomatoes

taking of a town in June,

and settling on a kitchen sideboard.

I want to write

of a sad, put-away aunt,

who brought with her

away a sweet innocent, drowned.

I want to write

of Désirée's baby,

accepting aweful fate in life

though it is not your own to bear.

I want to write of

the soul cleansing white sun,

freedom in the breath of the llano,

and know the understanding of freedom.

Am I writing yet?

Reposted: salt water

SO. This is what it is when they say

"heavy of heart"

and "weary soul."

There is so much moire in me

with no way, no where, to go

I am at a loss.

There are wonderful

moments in life,

but they fade quick in the grey

matters of my mind.

Here I am

I am alone.

I do not question

God in this.

He is causing me still to

BREATHE.

He has never forsaken

me as my own spirit has.

NOW, for instance.

I am so tired I cannot sleep,

so sick I cannot be healthy,

too healthy so I cannot beg

sympathy.

Life aches.

If only,

If only my tears could fall freely

and the salt could heal my wounds