Music=Me

15 04 2012

The coursing beat

Picks up my feet

Urging me forward

I tap my fingers

Swing my hips

And taste the lyrics

With moving lips

The slow notes calm

A soothing balm

For overworked nerves

My music feeds

My ear’s diverse needs

My music speaks

When I don’t know what to say

My music keeps me going

Through life’s every fray

Music listened

Is an expression

Of what I believe

Of what I want

Of feelings and ideas

It represents me

My music

IS me





Revolution of Justice

13 04 2012

I wrote this after watching the KONY 2012 video.

                     Voices, voices to be heard

                     Listener, listener spread the word

Raise, raise, raise your hands

Today, today we the lambs

Bare our teeth and shake the land

Growing, growing are the small

Tremble, tremble if you are tall

Brick by brick and stone by stone

We tear down a wall so overgrown

Oh hear it, hear it creak and moan

As it tumbles to the ground

Resonating with freedom’s sound

Together we all can surpass

The few who hold the cards

They have power but we have voices

Voices loud and not ashamed

Voices speaking of those to blame

Voices so many they have no name

Too long we stood aside

Til’ hope had all but died

Today is the day fate is defied

With joined hands

And a billion footfalls

We answer the desperate calls

Of the oppressed and the ignored

We’re shaking the world straight to its core

Today, today and forever more

We take our stand

Because justice is worth fighting for





Glass Garden

11 04 2012

Fragile glass garden

So sharp and picturesque

Flowers of ice

Transparent leaves

Glass Garden

Nothing dies

It simply shatters

No one walks

No birds sing

To enter is to bleed

On sinister shards

The ornate bench

Is not for sitting

The daisies are not

For plucking and placing

Behind your ear

Blatantly untouchable

Starkly impersonal

Cold glass garden

 

Shhh, be quiet

 

A rose just fell

Did you see it shine

And tease the light

Into revealing its true colors

Brilliant hues

Of stolen colors

That’s what makes it

This glass garden

Stolen shades

And delicate glass

Suspended above

Bloody footsteps

 





Goodbye Uncle John

7 04 2012

My uncle John died on March 21, 2012.  I wrote this poem two days after.

Goodbye Uncle John

It hurts to say so long

All the memories are clearer now

Precious and we’ll never forget

Just how much to us you meant

Goodbye Uncle John

For a man who spoke so few

I have so many words for you

It’s not enough to say ‘”I love,”

And it’s not enough to say “I miss,”

Because it comes down to a single moment

One more hug

One  more laugh

One more meal

But even then I still would feel

A need for just once more

To see you walking through the door

Smiling gruffly just once more

Goodbye Uncle John

Husband

Father

Cousin

Friend

Someday we’ll meet again

But until then

Goodbye Uncle John

It hurts to say so long

You may not be here

But you will never be gone





Chalkboard Me

2 04 2012

This is the first of a long line of therapeutic poems. Enjoy!

Andrea xxx

     Chalkboard me

Wiped away

Chalkboard me

Defined with clay

Chalkboard me

Words, pictures

And sloppy diagrams

Attempt to express

Who I really am

Sometimes in color

But mostly white

Chalkboard me

Not always coherent

With random scribbles

One dimensional

An attempt at understanding

Chalkboard me

Should be organized

Chalkboard me

Isn’t easy on the eyes

Chalkboard me

Is obsolete and peeling

Needs a new face

But Chalkboard me

Refuses to become dry erase





I’ve Missed This Place!

2 04 2012

Well, hello dear friends. It’s been a while. At first, I wasn’t getting on because my muse had lost its oomph, so to speak. It still hasn’t been regained, but I’m working on it.  I was also going through a lot of personal changes as well. Still am, but when do they stop? I also had lost sight of my original intentions for this blog. Poetry is a lost art. It is a fantastic way to convey messages, ideas, and opinions. I think it is topics like this that will make this art relevant. I think poetry needs to be made more accessible. In English, we read poets from centuries ago. I enjoy these poets and their genius, but most do not. I think it is time we started teaching poetry of our contemporaries. I’ve read poems on here that should be in my literature book. They are written to a modern audience. They are in the vernacular, so to speak.

I started this blog to write, share, and enjoy the written word. But I started paying attention to views and followers and comments. All very good indicators, but they take away from this blog as an outlet for my feelings and were beginning to add stress. So, I stopped for a breath.

I haven’t written very much recently and what I have written is very different, I think, from what I used to write. I did, and still do, analyze issues in society. The past few weeks, months (I haven’t counted) have been spent analyzing ME. I started to write solely for the sake of therapy. I refer to those poems as “Chalkboard Me”. I probably will post a few of those in the future, including the introductory one I wrote.

Bottom Line:I’m glad I’m back, but believe me I had to leave





I Walked on Rainbow

27 02 2012

So, I wrote this last night. Inspiration is unclear still, but it seemed apropos considering it’s my birthday, even if it’s a little depressing.  So much has happened in this year alone, I feel ninety instead of sixteen. New school, new city, new friends, LOVE (which wasn’t something I had to deal with at my last school). I promise at some point here I will get around to everyone’s pages. Recent personal  happenings are keeping my schedule a little erratic.

Cheers from the new old lady 😉

There was a time so long ago

When my feet touched nothin’ but rainbow

I skipped

And I hopped

I ran

And I danced

Me myself and I

Needed no romance

The sky was blue

And the grass was green

Everything I had

Was all I could need

No worries

No pain

No cold hard truth

My worst hurt was when

I lost a baby tooth

Reality was too big

For my naive eyes to see

My world was so small

I bounced of its walls with glee

And my feet touched nothin’ but rainbow

Colors shimmered and scattered

With my every footfall

Dropping down like painted tears

Of course I thought they were only rain

Tears are for those who have experienced pain

That rainbow was once so wide

I had to run a mile to the other side

It slowly shrank

As I grew up

Until I was on tip toes

And then one day

POOF!

I fell down

Off my rainbow

Like a bird from its nest

It had just disappeared

And so childhood’s fog cleared

I knew not where to go

Having lost my compass of a rainbow

For a while I was lost

And I probably still am

It’s much harder to find one’s way

On crude, solid land

My pot of gold exists somewhere

And I’ll keep on looking

Even though life’s not always fair