Wasting Time

Clever one she is
To sit in front of a screen
and waste her life away.

To wish for more focus
and dream of day
where all she wants to get done
gets done.

For a messy room haunts her
and hungry horses wait
but she sits
waiting

for who knows what.

you'd think she'd getting going
her whole life is waiting
or rather moving on
without her.

So why does she wait
and let the world leave
She has dreams and hopes
so why waste her time away?

Tell me truly what is her problem
why is she such a lazy person
Who looks around her and inwardly groans

There is too much to do today.
I'll do it tomorrow I promise.

That is how she passes each day.

I promise I'll do it tomorrow.
Then tomorrow comes
and she sits wasting her time away.

Dam and Foal

Long legs that get tangled up
Large eyes that watch the world
So new, brand new.
To everything the world has to offer.
Highly anticipated.
Making a grand entrance.

Almost royal.
So perfect in your newness.
A dream made real.
Little neighs
greeted by a frantic mother.

Dam and foal
perfect, special,
LOVE.

Waiting

Black, Black night.
Horses snorting and groaning while they sleep.
Bugs chirping in the night.
The heavy footfalls
Of a very pregnant mare.

The soft wind with a fall nip.
All bring the night in sharp,
agonizing focus.
That passes second by slow second.

No street lights to banish the darkness.
Shadows are nonexistent.
No foal's whinny to pierce the night-
we wait for this night to change into
celebration.

Or perhaps
it'd turn into tragedy.

The dark side of a dream.
The night holds promise and it holds fear.

The Unknown haunts without
anything to keep it in check.

Dream Or Nightmare

Swollen legs and muscles sagging-
Hind end changing.
Do you still think I'm pretty?
Seeking reassurance
begging for a well placed scratch

Am I doing well?
What is going on?
This sucks.

I pet her hip and
tell her "Good girl"
while she scratches my shoulder
with her prehensile lips.

We wait.
Her not quite sure what is happening
And I
Not quite sure why I wanted to do this.

Why did I take this chance?
I'm not ready for this!

What was I thinking.

Foal Watch

Wait.
Drip by drip.
The muscles relax.
She waddles about.
Scratching and stretching.
Prancing and swinging her wide hips around
the box stall.

Still no little one
after all this time
we still
Wait.

Sleep

The quick nod to the right
Eyes that grow heavy
Ever so very slowly

The jolt awake
The panic sets in
Then it begins again.

The quick nod to the right
Eyes that grow heavy
Ever so very slowly

The jolt awake
The panic sets in
And you fight to keep
your thoughts from failing

Flailing, and tumbling
into the abyss
Known only as

Sleep.

Bitch Face

Short poems can only do so much,
can only say so much.

I am traditional in the sense that I think poems
should be short
and stay in short phrases.

But it seems that I need to shake that opinion off.
Instead I should allow creativity to wake up-

It's held under guard and lock and key.
For with creativity comes the emotions I've hidden from all.

Emotions that harbor sadness and loneliness and fear and sorrow.
All locked far away in the deepest part of myself.

These emotions cause disturbances-
the brain is forgetting things and the mind is wandering into
thoughts full of quick sand.

It is like I am standing at the edge of a sink hole
and I can't move as I'm being pulled into the netherworld.

Am I supposed to feel like this?
When I am achieving my goals and dreams.

I feel empty- I blame the hallmark channel
with all their little movies about how people shouldn't be alone.


How do I stop being alone?
When I don my bitch face without realizing it.

Him

Not about HIM
but about him.

The one I wish I dreamed about.

The one I wish was by my side.

The one I wish I could talk to daily.

The one I wish would wipe my tears away.

He who was created by HIM
to be my soulmate;
the other half of me.

Motifs

Say what you want
but I need to breathe.

To explain away my frustration
or lack there of.

Motifs echo in my works-
hopelessness, dreams, fears, worries, sadness
and there's more.

I shall not traverse on those right now

Although,

I have a black cat;

in another time I would have been staked
as a witch for it.

Intolerance for those who wish
to be more than the status quo.

That intolerance still lurks in the shadows
and I feel it drain me bit by bit.

Short Poem

Poetry

Is in the rhythmic
staccato of hoof beats
caressing the ground.

Closed Eyes & Empty Thoughts

Night, Mare is different than
Nightmare.

Echoes of those nightmares
erase the pleasure of the day.

Images of bloody snow-

A bone rope for a skull bucket
that I pull up from a well-
shakes me.

There is no explanation for
the exhaustion I feel
after those images haunt me
even while my eyes are wide open.

I cannot escape what my brain creates;
Fear and worry leech
my hopes away.

I wish I could say I dream
but I do not dream.
I traverse nightmares
while I sleep.

Disturbing thoughts and empty
wishes build the worlds I walk in.

Sleep; the enemy.

First Draft. Haven't written much lately

Scattered

Bits and Pieces

are all I can string together

Not paragraphs

but fragments

that dance along

in my thoughts

Teasing

and

Hiding

despite my feverish

searching.

Attempt 3

Loss.
It wraps around my heart
and around my lungs.

I can barely breathe
as I try to live life.

How it must have hurt him
to take those few last breaths

To have so many faces stare at him
and gawk as he lay there

wasting away.

Stay strong.
I have to to stay strong
because falling apart
won't bring him back.

I wish my tears would turn back time.

I wish I had cherished the time
I had with him.

Instead I saw him as the stop-guard
that prevented me from living my dreams.

 

Attempt 2

Home.
I'd finally made it home.
It wasn't what I remembered.

I walked into my mom's house
and it smelled like death.

My brother's old room
turned into a deathbed.

There lay the skeleton
who'd fixed my car
and given me exasperated looks
when I'd concocted up some plan
that he'd have to pay for.

He seemed to fold in on himself
when he saw me.

He had waited,
He had held on,

until I'd had my moment on stage;
until he saw me home one last time.

Three days later he was in the hospital.
Two weeks after I graduated he was gone.

Attempt 1

Gone.
Two months and change.
On a white hospital bed-
Laid the skeletal ghost
of the man who had
become my father.

No sobbing, just the edges of tears;
scratching around my eyes.
I said "I'll see you soon"
then bolted before he could say
"I love you."

I wish I had stayed by his side,
I wish I could have braved those wild eyes
that took forever to find my face.

I want to hear him say

"I love you, sweetheart"
One more time.

Packing

There are piles of life around me
Debris of the year gone by-

Things that need to be sorted & tossed
because life gets too full of clutter.

By packing I am saying good-bye
I do not know if I'm ready.

Tic-Toc of the imaginary clock
the hours are draining by-

I should be good
I should prepare

Alas, I do not.

Wym

Today I got something
that I wasn't expecting-
A booklet of poems
written by fellow students

I've never heard of them
nor have I heard of wym,

I do not know why they gave me
a booklet as I do not partake
in fellow-shipping with fellow writers

Intrigued and frustrated
as I stare at the poems
wondering

-how did they know to give me this?
-who is behind these poems?
-why are they anonymous?

May-hap, my poetry professor gave each of his students a booklet.

Ghost Town

Whistler in the distance,
A white tumbleweed drifts by-

The landscape is deserted,
Puffs of dust hang in the air-

As the last of the caravan leaves
just a skeleton crew left.

The festivities muted by rain
that doesn't slake my parched throat.

Salty on my cheeks
I wipe away the reminisce
of years gone by.

Either/Or

Pain
or
Emptiness

Real
or
Imagined

Trust
or
Betrayal

Hope
or
Despair

Dream
or
Nightmare

Leo (revised)

Majestic in everything-

A warrior of the savannah-

A hunter of the old ways.

On nimble feet 

he dodges an attack

as those in the shadows watch

in reverence. 

A man of the old code

with a single focus-

success out on the playing field.

He is loyal to his cause; 

chases the championship ring-

That forever elusive prey.