Poetry – Page 29 – Stranger Paths

No More Apples

Surrounded by thousands

Still feels alone

This city just does not feel like home

This body is not my own

Soul wanting to burst out of a body

This is not where it belongs

Adam ate the apple

While I suffer his mistakes

A Dream I Didn’t Have

He tried to explain to me

That my soul has forgotten how it used to be

Before it was imprisoned by this jailer, this body

As the bright light shined down on me

I was blinded and no longer can see

That this… what I love so much is just a prison keeping me from my destiny

Freewill

I often forget that I have a choice

I let the radio choose what I listen to

And let the TV feed my brain

I am wasting my freewill, angels must think I am insane.

#Human

Modern Problems

There sits a child talking to a tree

About the long day and how things turned out to be

…And as I talked to her-the tree

She humbly smiled and replied to me:

-“This green was of concrete, paved so harshly to stop my growth.

Little I was, hungry for the sun at birth.”

She leaned down as she whispered to me.

Then I thought about my broken nail, my missing shoe, the lost signal, the text I couldn’t send you

Things that ruined my day

They were not concrete in my way!

So I dust off my skirt, with one shoe on

I go back inside my comfortable home

Thankful for how things turned out to be

See sometimes when you’re upset, all you need is a talking tree!

Thanking You

I’m shocked to find such treasures

On a bright screen

In a dark room

I satisfy my pleasures

Blogs full of thought, I found what I sought, and I try to thank you for what you wrote

With a short comment, a short note.

Thank you.

Where is Home?

Wars forced us to leave many houses behind

So home was a suit case, then a hotel, then peace of mind

I wander to meet trees that don’t know my name

I try to start a conversation, but people think I’m insane

My roots were dislocated and sometimes I feel suffocated

Then I remember,

Home was never far behind

Home is a place here in my mind

The Wide Eyed Girl

The wide eyes blinked

It was over

The war has engulfed the pond, the garden, and the moon

It wasn’t her choice

She smiled

Too young to worry, too old to cry

The wide eyes stared at a green leaf, among the ruins

The birds might come back

She poured what’s left of her water on what’s left of a tree

The apples will grow!

(A little darker than I usually write. That is because it was inspired by my life experience…)

Poetry Blogs

In a treasure chest only my eyes can see

I hide things that make me, me.

There you’ll find treasures of my own

poems too personal, drawings so imperfect, and sand from back home.

But here (in the blog world) I find chests open wide.

So I throw the key and join the fight.
#NewBlogger

Monsters

I see monsters in the park, impatiently cursing the sun missing the dark.

I see paws digging beneath a stone.

Tail wagging so happy to find his old bone.

While his owner impatiently waits to make the drive back home.

Small

The ripples in my glass of water were my proof,

There are little creatures that I can not see…

There are small things, smaller than me!

But here I stand on my kitchen floor

so much bigger yet feeling so small.