Poetry_In_her_eyes

  Dreamer, Lover, Mother, Winter Fairy You lose time not that you're running late but that time has been misplaced lost in a loving caress forgotten with gentle words Daily chores seemed charmed flakes of light dancing as winter sun slides on sleighs of dust motes casting prisms on the memories of quiet days and warm nights The pieces of your life lay scattered on the floor like a child's toys to be stepped on in the night One day, you promise to collect all the pieces and remember who you were Until then you wrap your arms around your need and kiss a swan like neck that smells of tequila rose and love and you sigh knowing you lied and will never pick up the pieces --- Thank you  Shaunda Eck  for the help

 A Poem of Sorts The cataclysmic shift of consciousness humanity is currently under going is a gift and a curse that never stops giving, the changes come as aftershocks of an earthquake, small ones at first, then piecing insights, almost as if the future is burned inside our eyes, tattooed on our souls, revealing, not only the horrors of society but our own shortcomings as human beings. Are current events unfolding a mirror of hidden desires or a violent shifting of minds and goals as plate tectonics rip open long dead ideals that once seemed solid ground but now only quicksand as fissures open up beneath our feet and our sins, vine like, wrap around bare ankles, threatening to pull us down into the seething cesspool's mire of shallow minds parroting the lies we once believed, and so believed we were ... whole

                                               The Unwritten Constitutional Amendment The idea that this needs to be a constitutional right shames our culture and society, that basic human decency must be protected as a law. I wrote this and turned it into a meme for anyone that would like to use it.

 The brave little mouse fights sleet and snow, poor spellings and grammatical errors, faces anger and ridicule, and poor readership to speak words to power that wrongs us all, a growing darkening of sky and light, an eclipse hiding the good of mouse-kind, a shadow covering our souls. Yet with eyes that see unjust deeds and weeps for those in need, the brave little mouse walks on, ever on, to reach a shining heart that guides the way through sleet and snow and a very cold soul.

  I have no name for whatever this is when I hear the whispering of fallen leaves asking for more than I have to give with days the color by thousand year old clouds how I long for so much more than just the open road There is a fine line between sanity and the pyre we are all a little bit crazy and yearn to light the fire inside to feel the warmth of our souls set ablaze an interlude and wistful dream that lasts until a child cries in sleep

 Fernando Pessoa Dreams still dreaming and long forgotten buried deep in the empty graves of hope seeking forgiveness for society's divide our epitaph reads "here lays our humanity" or is life just a metallic fraction of the whole and dreams just competition of what we never achieved and we are left with rust instead of blood haunted by diamonds never cut or prayers seeking an eternal lie seeing inspiration in trees reaching heaven just because they know no other way to grow finding in the end a new beginning and serenity in promises of what might have been