Maybe

I’ve seen humans climb mountains higher than they can breathe,

I’ve seen flowers grow in the cracks of deadened leaves,

I’ve seen seas with strength hidden underneath,

and I think, maybe, just maybe that can be you and me.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Excavate

You can tell me a thousand times,
that everything will be alright,
but that doesn’t make it true,
especially coming from you.

There is nowhere left to hide,
when I’ve used up all my lies,
there’s nothing left of me inside.

I don’t want to die,
I just don’t want this life,
I’ve tried to hint, that I’m not in this,
but what difference does it make,
when everyone feels the same?

But what happens to me,
when I’m emptied?

It’s been too long,
it’s been too few,
I can’t seem to get through,
especially to you.

I’m raising my white flag,
I’ve had enough of that,
Enemies now seem,
like friends to me,
hoping for peace,
I’m suffering.

I’m being tossed in the sea,
endlessly, trying to breathe.
Give me a break,
before you take and you take,

Stuck in these walls,
they know it all,
and I’m leaving it here.

When you excavate,
this lonely place,
all you’ll find, is my pain.

NaPoWriMo Day 10: Junk Drawer Song

I have Band-Aids to heal wounds from knives,
and should have thought twices,

I have alcohol wipes, to reduce the risk,
that anything sticks.

I have gauze, to wrap a wound,
of any cause, to include
burns, and bees, and
the clumsiness of me.

I have cold compresses, for hot messes,
or heating pads, for muscles mad.

I have pills to hold the hurt,
or curse words to let it burst,

But I have nothing,
nothing,
to heal,
the painful parts,
of my heart.

Earthly Poem

Still working on this poem, but posting anyway!

This earth
absorbing
your blood,
to give rise,
to new life.

For years
capturing
your tears,
to bring waves,
of change.

Your hands,
imprinting
on this land,
deserving most,
the promise owed.

Your skin,
collecting
in the dust,
coating the very structures,
built to keep you contained.

But the steady heartbeat,
of your feet,
are battle cries,
that the Earth,
who has mothered your dead,
recognizes and liberalizes.

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Nature Poems

Reading some Mary Oliver poems have inspired a few poems out of me today. Love her poems and need to buy some of her books.

Morning

When I dare to wake up early,
still half asleep and groggy,
doubt ripples like the breaking sun—
What have I done?

Then—
the cardinal call tells,
the trees to rise like citadels,
and all the strange shadows,
repose,
into familiar things.
My slumbering dreams,

long forgotten,
as the world blossoms—
and everything seems possible.


Breeze 

I find solace,
in the way,
the wind whispers,
through the trees,
as if you,
are haunting,
me.

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