String Games

A line of yarn, knotted at the end
Makes an endless circle.
It's hurtful
How the kids in the playground treat her.
Year after year,
She tries to make friends,
But she's different
And ignored.
So when she's bored
She untangles her only friend,
Then weaves pictures
Through her fingers
As the others look on with jealousy,
But they can't see
That if they only asked her name,
She'd teach them her source of fame-- 
String games.

Where the Road Forks

A narrow path leads to a fork
A crosswalk on one side
Come this way, the pavement calls
The other, there's nowhere to hide

To tread upon the path less traveled
Means to be stung by twigs and thorns
But to continue toward a familiar road
Means bombardment by eyes and horns

Exhale

Exhale onto the wind

Let the current sweep by

Release the moments

Release the memories

Release the musty air

Inhale into the sun

Breathe in a lullaby

Embrace life's smiles

Embrace sage strength

Embrace the glow of time

Phoenix

Out of the ashes springs my love.
Feathers of red and gold
Fall across his broad shoulders, 
Rippling with the wind trying,
Trying to push him down.
Tears in his eyes
He looks at me and smiles
"I used to be beautiful."
Climbing over rubble, I call to him
"You will always be beautiful,"
For I can only tell the truth.
His bravery and courage
Shine the light through the darkness.
Even as he burns, he grows.

Welcome to My Mind

Welcome.

There's a boom box in the corner
That never turns off.
It's fine, though--
There's always a reason to dance--
As long as you remember that
Only you can hear the music.

There's a constant rhythm
Keeping the world in time--
Tap, tap, tap,
Knock, knock, knock--
It's impossible to fall out.
Your body will soon keep the beat.

We can certainly converse,
As long as you can hear me
Over the sounds. Oh, and
Pardon the mess.
My thoughts swirled by
Right before you arrived.

It's a work in progress,
It's small and cramped,
But it's my very own.
So, wipe your shoes by the door
And leave your coat behind.
You've arrived.

Welcome to my mind.

Shards

Piece by piece,
By starving piece,
The glass comes back together.
Attention is paid,
Focus is kept
To the face behind the curtain.
Flirt with reality,
Look at the past,
The mirror never sees what was.

Click here to view the original artwork by Diana Chitu

Despite Gravity

I fall, but don’t drift away,

For gravity hugs me close.

Sheltered by the atmosphere,

I have smoky air to breath.

It’s impossible to be

Afraid of heights when the top

Can never be reached. But you,

The big world in which I live,

Keep me moving up against

Our strong, precious gravity.

I need food, air, and shelter

All of which you constantly

Provide me in your embrace.

But I need just a bit more

To survive and win the race.

You are caught, but cannot break,

For gravity’s claw holds you tight.

Smothered by the atmosphere,

You have no fresh air to breath.

It’s impossible to find

The will to climb when you feel

Your breaths heavy and labored.

Strangled by gravity’s clutch,

You keep struggling. You fight

Against the world’s constriction.

You need food, air, and shelter,

Which you must compete for from

Your place in the world’s embrace.

But if you fight a bit more

You can survive; win the race.

Young Love Died

In a grand mansion, on a regal bed, an old man lies alone.

Trinkets and memories line the wall in smiles—both real and pretend.

He lived his life like he was supposed to. He did his honorable duty.

Tired and alone, he closes his eyes for what he hopes is the last time. 

Pain shakes his body, and fear paralyzes him. 

Fear. Sixty years had passed since he last felt fear.

Only a boy, he felt invincible.

The world tore him down, but he persistently beat fate.

Nothing could go wrong in those days. He was a boy.

They told him nothing comes to those who wait, so he waited.

He watched her smile and dance. He watched her shudder and cry.

Her tears burned hotter than the fire that danced in his hands.

Beautiful, he said. Strong. Perfect.

She cried on his shoulder, smoldering the skin underneath.

He would carry the scar on his march to death.

Time went on as they hid from the world—from the monsters.

Meshed together, he told her. With nervousness. And fear.

I love you. I need you.

Sixty years later, he lies alone in an empty bed.

His wife and children shuffling through the world she once danced in.

Fear grips him as he feels himself    slowly      drifting         away.

Poems About Anxiety

My Monster 

I grab fear around the neck and hold tight--
Thrashing on the back of a hideous monster.
It flies through the air and burrows underground,
And yet, I hold on.

Gasping for air, the earth crumbles around me--
Walls shake, rocks quake, and birds race to safety. 
Instinct yells to run from fear, but I choose to fight,
And so, I hold on. 


Misfire

Aim... Fire!
Get the message to the main controls:
We are under attack.
Except we aren't, 
So there's no reason to worry.

A Caricature

Cartoon Man

An oval face, sturdy and wise,

With wrinkles pointing at the sky.

Long ears holding him down

And hanging to his partial frown. 

On his frame is slung a coat--

Of elk, or deer, or maybe goat--

While a belt of brown and reds, 

Warn entirely to shreds, 

Holds up the pants

That always dance

Around his ankles--spindly but strong.

The man of stories oh so long,

Husband, father, brother, too,

Really needs to tie his shoes.

A Sonnet

Dream of an Insomniac

Tossing, turning, and I awake again.

All I can hear is a whispering clock.

Fifteen minutes since I last woke: tick tock.

At night a bat, then bird at day begin.

Rather than sleep, I read, which are akin.

If only someone was around to talk

About these sleepless nights, my mental block

Keeping me alert, again, again.

Dreadful insomnia remains a pain

Easily repaired by a night of sleep.

Until then I wait to dream of a train

To take me far away where I will keep

Memories and sympathy in my mind

For those whose problems I have left behind.

Love, and Be Silent

This is the first of many poems I hope to share with the public. I was inspired to write this after reading the quote "Love, and be silent" by Ophelia in Shakespeare's King Lear. Full disclosure: I do not like Shakespeare. Before people start jumping at me, I still appreciate his work. Without further ado, I present "Love, and Be Silent."

To tell you would be a lie

Of which I’ve spoken too many.

So to you I bite my tongue 

As the words fly through my mind,

“I love you.”

I can state it over and over,

Not carrying one bit

What you decide to believe

About what I say.

I know “love” is the truth to me—

Though the words are simple—

Above my ordered web of lies.

So I will continue to love

Without bounds, without speech—

Love, and be silent.

If you've read King Lear, you may notice that I took some creative liberty in the characterization of Ophelia. Throughout high school, English teachers constantly told me that the only innocent beings in literature are the children. Because Ophelia is by no means a child--her father is willing to entrust her with a part of his kingdom, and she is to be married--I cannot see her as an innocent character, hence the "web of lies" I choose her to create.

Questions? Comments? Critiques? Please share!