Where are you, my peaceful mind?
you call on me, from time to time
you make me question what is mine
through fields of corn, and city grime
where are you, my active mind?
you dart, you dash, you intertwine
my habits, as I’m so inclined
but choices, hardly worth my time
where are you, my precious mind?
to what decree are you assigned?
to what degree are you aligned?
and are these questions really mine?
L.M. 1:03 p.m., January 20th, 2015.
in a scorched red building
on the thirteenth floor
see the ten candles sliced
watch as they drop down more
out the window a new hill
wasn’t there the day before
(wasn’t there the day before)
after pilots set their gaze
through the blackened night
death-grip on a promise
eyes frozen on site
out the window another pile
tell me now are you still right?
(are you still right?)
charging for the gates
tens of thousands of men
taste of fire and blood
drop to the hills again
all the faces blinded
bit by the dogs that guide them
seeth at the dogs that bind them
throw the flowers to the soil
they’ll never grow
see the luna moths congregate
decimate
affiliate
then burn in the flames
simple ones to tame
belly-up in the lake
no weapon but the knife in his back
belly-up in the river
blue with the cold shiver
slivers of his spine
scattered along the shore
with pieces of his “holy” mind
and the sacred child
it’s all just rust and coal
you can see the cursed depth
of everything that won’t be left
rust and coal
stop beside the road
see the black plumes rise
sever the cloudless skies
and mark the stones with peaceful lies
sending them back
to the arms
of America
Copyright L.M. 2008. (written May 10th, 2008.).
on the rock that shimmers
a golden plate
set for someone
anyone
to take apart
piece by piece
I’m afraid that it won’t end
and your slate
wiped clean, erased
again
she’ll fall apart
piece by piece
the green died with the love
that you could never give
and can’t will back
in the jealous mind appears
a golden ring
made for no one
no one
it strangles
then rips you apart
piece by piece
speak when the lights go out
speak when the lights go out
speak
Copyright L.M. 2008.
eyes cast downward
you’ll never see the sky
how can you fly
with a fear of heights?
perennial heartbreak
won’t make you stronger
what doesn’t kill you just
makes life seem longer
painting pictures with your tears
you know it doesn’t have to be like this
write it
sing it
try just to be it
you’re only lost in your mind
you will be fine
Copyright L.M. 2008.
This is a song done by one of my best friends’ band called Miles Away. I might’ve screwed up some of the lyrics but here’s my best try:
I made a thousand mistakes and baby you’re one of them
with your eyes and your smile
and the way that I’ll never get to see you again
cuz you’re 10,000 miles away
and I cannot speak to you
I am lost
you seduce with your mind but your heart is saying “leave me alone”
lady I made up my mind
that you were no good for me
we’re drunk, and alone
and you’re holding on tight with the hopes that I’ll turn into something I’m not
and something I’ll never be
to you I am flawed but to someone I’m God so just go
and leave me alone
I feel like I’ve been here before
oh
I feel like I’ve been here before
oh
so leave me alone
I’ll admit tonight when I first heard this song I almost cried. Please, go to http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=14734215156&ref=share (I hope that link works for you, please let me know if it doesn’t! If it doesn’t, search for the band “Sleep the Season” in Facebook and you should be able to find the band’s site that way) and give it a listen…… it’s a beautiful song and personally I really feel the lyrics, which just adds that much more to it. Please go, listen, and enjoy.
This poem was written last year, when my sister challenged me to write about Florida. Castles, castles, in the sand….. Anyway, hope you enjoy 🙂
it isn’t silence
the sound of light winds
muffled by the white
soft underfoot
recently blessed by sun
sings to the water
tucking, buckling,
racing chariots of miniature waves
leaving treasures to be found
and closely examined
by little hands and feet
the passing curious
whose eyes stray easily
landing upon the pier
with the fishermen ready
dinner in mind
(or maybe pizza tonight)
looking from face to smiling face
everyone knows
everyone feels
it’s love at first breath
sound
touch
sight
and smell
cleansing salty air
performs a miracle
delivering its message of peace
infiltrating lungs with purity
seaweed and all
inciting song and dance for many
and adoration for all
Copyright L.M. 2006. (yes, this is a repost, but if you didn’t want to download the .doc file you can now read it here.)
it’s in her style
paths of words streaming
seeming
beaming
their peace upon us all
as we sing out delight
at the voice in our heads
perhaps mouthed in pain
or wreathing
or the simple hurt of breathing
barely there and yet
a final stanza’s set
forgiving all we weren’t
unopened in the eyes of many
sitting all alone
in waiting and impatience
wondering at such
use of passive tense
for not all eyes can see
splendid verbose beauty
but sit here we
gliding fingers highlight text
whose passion rises ours
left only to second-guess
whose life personified
yours or his
hers or mine
ignorant of time
and so it settles
her adorning mind
Copyright L.M. 2006.
(My sister had a different interpretation for this poem when she read it; she thought it was about the Virgin Mary….. have another read and you might see why she, and I now too, can glean that meaning from it…..)
I took solace in the tears the moon gave me
pretending they were for you
it was full tonight and I passed the site
the cruel arena
I couldn’t find a plan so I kept going
and wouldn’t you know? I slept
while my tears dried on my cheeks
while I stood there staring at the moon
yes, I slept,
everything reduced to numbness
all the passion and anger
slept tonight in my pain
reciting my own words and those of ____
just so I can swallow some air
I’ve been breathing dirt for days now
I can’t feel anymore but that’s okay
it’s better than feeling awake
would you settle near me and watch me
so when I choke there’s a reason
since the scene never plays itself out
if it makes any sense at all
may I be removed? I thought I saw a star
I’m sure I did in my eyes
and the long clouds dripping dip through the moon
I watch behind the dead tree
magnificent as the Seven’s and just as achingly cursed
spelling my letters as I read them
I couldn’t find the keys in the scramble
the door was wide open and I walked into it
beginning with my mind
and ending with my feet
I can’t cry for you
I used to be much better
can’t slow my eyes getting wetter
so let me cry for the moon
Finished: 6:20 a.m., Sunday, November 25th, 2007.
Copyright L.M. 2007.
I guess I was overcome
so cold, so frigid
snapping crisply
I went to control my actions
and found it closed
so I walked
I found my step
along with cranberry thoughts
and I knew I was alone
for the good and the bad
I stomped out the march
of my walk
imagine my surprise
when my eyes grazed the snow
and the indents were fresh
but they weren’t mine
someone else had come
for my walk
oh how the mind reels!
alas I’m not so alone
this arrogance of mine
just wanted to sulk
in its singularity
on my walk
so I rounded a tree
traversed back behind
crossing new paths
with each little dance
to remain with my stance
and my unparalleled walk
Copyright L.M. 2007.
In high school, I came up with a shade of blue.
It was beautiful — a combination of sky blue, light mauve, baby blue.
Every day as I’d walk through the hallways, I’d look up through the windows as I passed to see if today was a Beautiful Blue day, and, if it was, it was a good day. It became difficult in winter to keep my spirits up, as the cold depresses me sometimes, but if there was a patch where I saw Beautiful Blue skies, it would lift me up and give me strength.
I love nature like others love religion. In fact, to a certain degree, I equate the two. This is really very personal but why not…… in my egotistical mind, I would see the colour showing up as a sign, a spiritual offering of a hand to help me stand again — or, if I was already standing, would help lift me to happiness — or, if I was already happy, would help lift me to elation. Natural beauty is something that never replicates; each instance really is a moment in time to treasure. You will never have that exact opportunity again to feel its presence, its power, your part in it all. All you can hope for, if you shun that moment, is another chance. It is likely for this reason that I have become a fervent advocate of spontaneity; part of carpe diem requires the ability to forgo plans and live for the moment as it presents itself. Part of beauty is unpredictability.
Beautiful Blue might look different to others. As much as I describe it, I will never know if anyone else sees the exact shade I do — not that I believe myself to be the only one capable, but when you take into account differences of perception, differences of colour receptor cones in the eyes, differences perhaps of data transmission between cones and the brain?…… but this Beautiful Blue, to me, is nothing less than hope itself, embodied in a shade of pure beauty.
A couple years after I’d begun this tradition of sky-searching at school and elsewhere, I was listening to the radio and heard the DJ mention a new song was going to be played by an artist whose songs I knew and liked. The artist: Holly McNarland. The title: Beautiful Blue. This initially stunned me. Then, my senses came around and I realized: to others, they were simply two words strung together, and could be used to describe a multitude of things…… I suppose. This is what she has to say about her song:
“The big song [on the cd], ‘Beautiful Blue,’ came a week before the
last time we went into the studio,” she says. “That was shortly
after September 11. It’s not about that, but the whole vibe, the
whole doomsday thing, was pretty apparent, and I was just
hanging out with my son. In the middle of all of this tragedy,
I would wake up and have this perfect little angel by my side.”¹
It’s a beautiful song; I loved it immediately, and not simply for the connection I had with it. One day I’d like to perform it live — in a way, to realize another dream of mine, as I’ve already recently been given the opportunity to realize one of my life dreams of being part of a band. I don’t want to suggest it, as it’s not particularly in the style we perform, but I figure that the opportunity will somehow present itself at some point in my life — just like the song did initially — if it is meant to be interpreted by my (in comparison) highly unqualified voice. This is not a case for carpe diem, after all; this is a chance to see just where my Beautiful Blue will guide me next.
So, my dear readers, after I expose my vulnerable nature to all your mysteriously faceless souls, I ask you: what is your Beautiful Blue?
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