Dream.

When you fall asleep

When you close your eyes

Do you dream of me?

And of sunset skies?

.

Or do you dream of roses?

Their petals soft and sweet

In their beauty, powerful

But their thorns that cheat?

.

Or are your dreams of stars?

The Milky Way and Orion’s belt

The inky sky, black as pitch

Each star glowing, each one felt?

.

Better, do you dream of song?

Of distant harmony?

The song weaving through your soul

Creating a sweet agony?

.

Or are your dreams of spring?

The sweetness of reawakening?

The sun kissed grass, the azure sky

The world from winter, awakening?

.

Or do you dream of love?

The chase, the fight, the fall?

And when you do, who do you find?

Is it my name that you call?

.

And when you fall asleep

When you close your eyes

Do you dream of me?

And of sunset skies?

.

I wrote this when I was supposed to be doing homework, but, alas, I’m easily distracted, especially when I haven’t written anything creative in a while.

I will admit, that I was also listening to a select mood of music when I did, and suddenly, knew I needed to write something, anything. And this is what I ended up with. Not bad for almost spraying words onto the page.

As for what I was listening to…Ed Sheeran’s Give Me Love, Dustin Lynch’s Hurricane, and Kip Moore’s Hey Pretty Girl.

On that same note, I love how music can change our moods, our lives, and inspire us. I’ll give an example; There is this one composition by Hans Zimmer. It gives me chills. Everytime. I hear it, and I literally stop everything, just to enjoy it.

And that’s what I love about music. That it has that ability to give us those chills, to speak for us, to tell a story. Even it it doesn’t have words. Which is why I love soundtrack music. Sure, it was meant initially to accent a movie. But if you listen to it enough, it becomes something different. You know all the parts of the song; so much so, that you can hum along with it. And when you watch that movie, the music seems out of place, because you know it so well.

At the same time, I love music, because the words (even instrumental music has it’s own words, in a way) can speak so personally to us. And that’s poetic.

Was this aside a little off topic? Perhaps. But it’s all connected, in one way or another.

With Your Eyes, A Smile

Kiss me with your eyes

And love me with your smile

Let me know what I

Haven’t known in quite a while

.

Let me feel the freedom

That comes with your soft gaze

To wander in each other’s eyes

And roam for all my days

 .

Kiss me a sweet question

Let it tingle down my spine

A thousand answers on my lips

All ways to call you mine

 .

Let me feel the power

That lives in your silk touch

Knowing that I have you

Feels like it’s so much

.

Awake me from this dream

Awake me from this wish

Wake me with nothing else

But the knowledge of this bliss

.

Alright, so it’s short and sweet today. Mostly, because I’m so busy between coaching and school, but also, because the majority of my poems tend to be long and drawn out. It’s really just who I am as a writer in general; even when I was younger, my stories and essays would be way longer than what was asked.

And, why a love poem this week? Well, I’ve left you some pretty serious poems the past couple weeks, so I thought I would lighten things up a bit.

And, okay, fine. I like love poems. I don’t care if I’ve never been in love, let alone ever had a boyfriend. We all want that special someone; the one who sweeps us off our feet, makes us laugh, smile, cry. So here’s to wishing on stars, that someday that special someone will find me. And, preferably, appreciate instead of scoff at my romantic notions and poetry.

Breathless

The ocean blue

And its whispering hue

Has always sang to me

.

A song to hope for

To long for more

Within it’s beauty bold

.

For in its thralls

It calls and calls

To come to it, to live

.

To love its power

To accept its shower

Of salt and spray and sea

.

For to touch the sea

 Is to become free

And let my soul take flight

.

To accept power and might

To conquer my fright

Of things this bold and daring

.

For the rumble, the roar

Is what I live for

In its terror, there is love

.

For the silky caress

Makes me confess

My love of this ocean blue

.

Okay, okay, so a couple of things to say.

Firstly, I apologize for the long break I took from here…though I have several valid excuses. Of course, the first being my break in Hawaii (which was awesome, lovely, and a heck of a lot of fun), the second being my laptop deciding to go kaput (I now write this on a shiny new MacBook. I know, fancy.) and thirdly, I was going through major, major writers block.

Not to worry, however! I’m back, and I’ll do my best to be sharing my poetry and picture quotes every Thursday/Friday, as per usual.

Moving on.

While in Hawaii, I noticed something that I’ve noticed before, when in California, Vancouver, etc. I love the ocean. I find it daring and bold and beautiful. There’s a peace to it, but also a strange power about it. And I really enjoy being by it, listening to that great and terrible beauty that is the sea. It  didn’t hurt either, that in Hawaii, the ocean is a heck of a lot warmer than in Vancouver. It has a silky, warm quality that you don’t find anywhere else.

I think that part of it could come from the fact that I was born by the sea. I lived in Surrey until I was two. So maybe its just a psychological thing…or maybe I’m just crazy. Either way, I love the sea. Almost as much as I love the prairies.

And with that, adieu.

Where The Angels Sing

The rain is falling down

The sky is grey and bleak

Everywhere is silent

A cheerless, lonely town

.

Like ghosts along the pier

Like phantoms in the night

We can only cry and wait

For our ending to come near

.

No place for us to run

No place for us to hide

We can only hold each other

As history is spun

.

As we see our town in ashes

The baker’s store, the willow

The cobbled streets, a better time

That comes to me in flashes

.

And it includes a young man, grinning

A man that I have loved

With sparkling eyes and barking laugh

A way that made him winning

.

And when days were good we’d meet

In a summer valley

With dewy tress and singing creek

The only place I was complete

.

It was there that he first kissed me

It was there that he proposed

It was there that our hearts came together

And helped us both to see

.

It was out there in that glen

When war’s whispers finally came

We’d hear about it; its bloody trail

Every now and then

.

And he and I, we waited

For what we knew would come

The draft, the uniform, the soldier’s gear

The fight that we both hated

.

And when we said goodbye

In a lingering kiss

He whispered a sweet promise

And I could only cry

.

And so I watched him go

In a uniform we both loathed

But we knew, our time would come

My lover, my beau

.

But not long after he had left

New lines of war were drawn

And our lovely, carefree town

Suddenly, was bereft

.

For the enemy soldiers came

Took over our poor town

Used it as a battleground

And used us in their game

.

And like pawns, we were used

To help them win their war

A disposable town, pathetic people

A resource to be abused

.

So with optimism we responded

Hoping it would help

Hoping that our boys and men

Would receive what we corresponded

.

But nobody came to help

The battle lines drawn clear

The soldiers were here, here to stay

And they treated us like whelps

.

They used us as their servants

They abused us their leisure

Made us treat their wounds

Let nothing but observance

.

And anyone who disobeyed

Suddenly disappeared

As we became their slaves, their whores

Every whim to be obeyed

.

So when the gunshots rang

And the front lines started closer

We wondered if our men could return

As the bullets and shout all sang

.

And these soldiers were suddenly smart

When they looked at our old town

As they realized just what they could do

Se we could become a part

.

And now we play a part, in this wicked war

We became hostages of these men

Suddenly fine pieces

Better than before

.

We were given a warning

‘Be good to us’, they said

And now that we’ve been good

We’ve see the dawn of morning

.

And with the dawn came fire

As they burned down our poor town

They let the rain sting our faces

While they built our unmarked pyre

.

So now there’s little left

Of this place that we called home

Where children played, where people laughed

Our hearts torn with the theft

.

And now, while we wait

All sentenced to our death

I can only think of him

And what happened to our fate

.

Where a white dress waited

And a violin would play

Where a kiss would seal our hearts

A hope now desecrated

.

The barn where we once danced

Will now become our tomb

As these monsters light the fire

I think of his romance

.

And thus, I whisper my goodbye

I whisper ‘I love you’

And as I find my happy place

I let out a sweet sigh

.

And focus on the better times

Focus on the love

Focus on that valley

Where pain was once a crime

.

And as I twist the diamond ring

And think of his sweet promise

I can only hope that one day we’ll meet again

Up where the angels sing

 

 

Okay, so I know this isn’t my usual type of poem. Very dramatic, very dreary, very drastic. In truth, though, I wrote this months ago, and it sat on my computer because I was worried about putting such a touchy poem up.

Then I watched The Boy In The Striped Pajamas. Suddenly, that very dramatic, dreary, drastic movie helped give me confidence in this poem, and it’s story.

I will be the first to admit that the atrocities of World War Two are very, very interesting to me. Not in a morbid way, but in the mere astonishment of what people will do to others. From the Nanking Massacre in 1937-1938, the Oradour-sur-Glane Massacre in 1944, and, of course, the murder of six million Jewish people, along with the masses of the mentally disabled, Romanian, gypsy, homosexual and other cultures killed in work camps throughout Europe. This also includes the horrors of what the Nazi party did under the orders of Hitler, including the twisted Josef Mengele who preformed brutal experiments on children.

However, there was also some light in that dark time. Viktor Frankl is one of my favorite psychologists; I find him to be an uplifting and highly intelligent man; a psychologist that was more human than say, some of the psychologists such as Freud andSkinner.

The horrors of war are awful, and many of them leave scars on many of us. However, there have been many, many other awful wars and massacres even recently. The Rwandan Genocide in 1994, The Srebrenica Massacre in 1995, and some massacres and genocides as recent as 2001. Hate still is in our world, and apparently, we don’t learn from our mistakes.

I guess what I’m trying to say here, is although I wrote this poem with one of the World Wars in mind, it honestly, could be any country at war, any place that has brutality. World War Two was hardly the end of such atrocities such as the concentration camps. All we can truly do is learn from our history, and not doom ourselves to repeat it.

Believe me when I say that I am not usually so ardent in my ideas of peace. But by doing two projects (Nanking and a all-too-short bit on the holocaust, here and here) and yet still reading about some of the awful things that go on in our world can make me a little upset.

So, there’s your summer history lesson for the day. I’ll be more light hearted later, but perhaps, sometimes, its good to introduce something for people to think about. Don’t think poorly of me for it.

The Stars Spin By

My heart aches

My heart breaks

When I sit under this sky

And watch the stars spin by

.

And I’m here wondering why

Watching this midnight sky

I’m alone for tonight

And nothing is right

.

Because imprinted on my eyes

Is you in your disguise

With her, with her, with her

Under my skin, a burning burr

.

And all I want for right now

All I want is to know how

To find my happily ever after

To finally find my laughter

.

To wish on that shooting star

To be right where you are

Instead, here I am with a broken smile

And you carrying on all the while

.

So here I am, here I stand

Just wanting to take your hand

Instead you’re with her

She’s the one you prefer

.

So my heart aches

And my heart breaks

Where I sit under this sky

And watch the stars spin by

.

I admit, I had another poem in mind for this week, but, for some reason, I wrote this one the other day, and felt like it fit this week. It’s grey and rainy here, and the weeks are dragging by while I wait for the key to the door to summer. Because instead of being set free into the summer heat, I’m stuck inside while it rains and I’m pouring over math and science until my head spins.

Not to mention I just feel so dreary. Sad. And lonely, because everybody else is cooped up during the day, studying for these diplomas that will be the death of us all. And while I’m excited for summer, I’m also wondering what it will bring.

This is also a poem for all those who have watched somebody that they want walk away with somebody else.

I’ll have more light-hearted stuff next week, I promise. :)

Odd Place To See

What an odd place to be

Where suddenly I see

A place for you

A place for me

With the trees holding up the sky

Where we will never die

.

While you spin me in circles

A place of miracles

Like the sun that sets the fire

And burns its own desire

As it sinks into the night

Where everything is right

.

And we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me

.

Yes, it’s an odd place to be

With only you and me

This prairie daze

The twilight haze

Of a lovers field of dreams

Where we can plant our schemes

.

And watch them grow in stars

No matter where we are

As they sparkle

As they shine

As you whisper, as we twine

In this grassy place

.

And we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me

.

And I want the fire

I want desire

I want everything that comes with you

Here on this prairie blue

So give me your love now

And help to show me how

.

While we are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me

.

Give me another kiss

Where it’s never felt like this

Let the stars dance

Let the moon prance

And I’ll see them in your eyes

A silver blue surprise

.

You are my perfect night

In my illuminated sight

Give me more, give me you

And don’t stop until we’re through

It’s a summer night

Where everything is finally right

.

We are young

And the summer has begun

Let the shadows play

Until another day

Where an odd place to be

Holds only you and me

So today was the last day of High School. The last day I’ll ever walk in to go to work. To do science labs. To wander the halls aimlessly. It’s a weird feeling, and doesn’t feelquite real. I also think that that is due to the fact that diploms are on their way, and we haven’t walked the stage yet. I mean, it’s still grey and rainy here, so how can summer and high school be over? Especially when I have all this studying to do? It’s weird.

However, this poem is to celebrate this day, and the summer that is right on our doorsteps. And I can’t wait for the adventures that it will bring. :)

The Song I Couldn’t Sing

So I fell for you

Because I thought I knew you

And yet it wasn’t true

I wanted to love you, wanted to hope

And instead found that you couldn’t cope

Though I wanted to suffer, in order to hope

And instead found you stepping on my throat

After you had whispered sweet lies

The ones to disguise

The words you whispered, twisted and tore

A battle of two hearts locked in war

I wanted to only win your heart

But you wanted to tear mine apart

And when the battle began

I realised and ran

Trying to let go of you

Before you destroyed me, through and through

But your lips and your heart called my name

If only to bathe me back in flame

And soon you trapped me, help me caged

While the battle around us raged

And you wrote words upon my heart

One I hadn’t heart since the start

And you whispered the words as you tightened the chains

The words echoing through my veins

Until you were sated

And my love abated

Until I no longer wanted you

Until I knew that we were through

Then you left me, then you were gone

With the light, and with the dawn

To pick up the broken shards

Left of a house of cards

Of my broken heart, the weeping tale

The battle that had swept through my heart like a gale

And with the pieces I tried to reclaim

But I only could find parts with your name

Even the rag and bone shop couldn’t collect

A heart and love so wrecked

And with words that were etched upon my bones

A heart that had been in places unknowns

My heart, battle torn

Now so battered and worn

The words echoing on my heart, my soul

Words that couldn’t keep me whole

And you left me with a troubled song

All in all that felt so wrong

The words I could mumble, the words I could sigh

I could do so until I would cry

But you were gone, that I knew

And my love for you was through

Because it was you who stole my heart

Enjoyed it when you ripped it apart

But still you left me with a broken wing

Left me with a song I couldn’t sing.

So, here’s something different. Instead of my usual happy-go-lucky love poems about dirt roads and sunsets, I have something about heartbreak, sadness, and general discontent. A war waged between two hearts; one wants the other, and the other will have none of it, but battles anyways. And he breaks her.

It’s kind of a Les Miserables, Eponinne ‘On My Own’ style. But rather than have images that shes stuck with, she has these lyrics etched in her head that she can’t come to terms with. She can’t sing them. Her heart is broken, and she’s been so broken that she can’t come to terms with what happened.

While I have never had my heart broken in this fashion, I know people whose relationships have failed so badly that they sink into a dark spot for days. Or those who want another to fall in love with them, but they never do. And they fight fate.

I know, that for me, I liked this guy for a year or more. I never did anything, but I wanted to be with him, and I wanted something to happen. But I was too afraid of ruining our friendship. So I waited, and waited. And then, he got a girlfriend. Talk about ‘I’m Not That Girl’ from Wicked.

I don’t like him as much anymore, though my heart still sometimes jumps when I see him. But the sadness and jealously that was there was, too me, ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter, I thought. But in a way, it also taught me that sometimes, we have to take the jump, and maybe risk a little.

So, here we are. Hope that you enjoyed it!

A Cowboy, a Dirt Road, a Sweet Romance

It’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay

.

It’s where you and I

Once fell in love

Under that blue Alberta sky

In that old blue Ford that always died

Where our memories and the radio entwined

Where our fates began to twine

.

It’s  a dirt road sunset

Sitting on the hood of that truck

A little bit of whiskey

Doing something risky

Watching the sun’s fire

Ignite it’s own desire

.

Its cut-off jeans, a white tank top

Your flannel shirt ‘round my shoulders

With the fiery fields all aglow

Singing along to the radio

A little bit of rum and coke

A little bit of campfire smoke

.

It’s a whisper in my ear

Smell of your leather and my perfume

Mixed together, a sweet concoction

Cuts my breath, just like a toxin

Where the catch that’s in your voice

Is a calling, not a choice

.

It’s the trees that hold the sky

Casting shadows on your face

This forbidden meeting

With my heart beating

Your name, tattooed with every pound

That beats too loud, an audible sound

.

It’s the crickets singing

The moon’s fair light

Slippery shadows across your face

A vivid picture, I can’t erase

A coyote’s shrieking, weeping cry

The night we thought would never die

.

It’s a slow, slow dance

A cowboy, a dirt road, a sweet romance

Swaying to the music of the night

Giving in to you without a fight

To your strong arms, your hungry eyes

That even the night couldn’t disguise

.

It’s that lingering kiss

Your hand in my hair, tangled there

It’s the goodnight, goodbye

The sound of your sweet sigh

It’s how I remember those days

Out where the horses graze

.

Where it’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay

.

We all want to fall in love; we all want that fire, that ice, that beauty that results in the knowledge that somebody truly and deeply cares about you. It’s all part of human nature to want it.

I know I seem to write an abundance of love poems, which could be considered strange for somebody not in a relationship, or who has never even been in a serious one. But, we always want what we can’t have, right? And, since the last time I checked, I am human, of course I want to find love. So, perhaps, I write love poems because I write of something I’ve only read about, and turn my want into daydreams…that turn into the poems here. Is that so wrong? Personally, I think not. After all, it saves me from doing something with a stranger; because I have lived my daydreams through these poems. And in that, I might be weird, but who knows? Do most authors not live in their stories at one point or another? Why should it be so different for anyone who writes poetry?

Anyways, with the school year almost at an end, I have to start really focusing on my school work, so don’t expect me to post every week…at this point, it may be once every two weeks. And, I’m going to be way worse in the summer. Me posting every week when I would rather be drinking up the rather rare warm temperatures in mild Calgary is more of a draw for me than anything else…not to mention it’s more of an inspiration that staring blankly at Microsoft word, trying to get what I want to say out on paper (err…the screen). My poems are so much better when they are not forced.

And with that note, adieu.

 

 

Beyond The Wintery Walls

When the wings

Of a black bird sings

A song of wonder

A song of hope

My heart flutters

Looking for wonders

 

Far beyond these kitchen walls

Something brighter calls

It tells of summer

It tells of spring

My eyes widen

And look to hide in

 

The call of the dance

Of summery days

A time of freedom

A time of heat

When I could live

And I could give

 

My heart to another

Someone new

Handsome

And true

When I could dance

And sweet romance

 

With the man of summer’s hue

Sun kissed and smiling

Laughing

Dancing

There we would lie

Under a drunken sky

 

With the wine of summer’s dew

Drunk on sun

Drunk on you

Intoxicated hearts

Like stealing tarts

 

From the window pane

Where I’m the same

Dark kitchen walls

Dark peeling halls

Summer’s gone

It’s winter’s dawn

 

And love is gone

Where it once shone

Like summery sun

Like flowers sprung

And now, I’m alone

I’m winter’s own

 

- Another poem. This one is a little late; I’ve been super sick. Think bronchial infection mixed with ear infection mixed with the flu from last week. So while I meant to post this right after the quote, I, unfortunately, could barley muster the energy to go to school, and then to volleyball practice, where I could barley move. Excuses, I know. Oops.

Anyways, this poem. A little different, and I’m not quite sure where in the world it came from. I’m thinking is stems from my and my best friend’s talk about guys, love, summer, winter, fall. And it all kinda fell into my head in the format you see above. 

How many movies in one’s lifetime, how many books, do we read and see about summer romances? Grease, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Dear John, The Last Song, etc. But sometimes we don’t get to see what happens after the happy couple finally get together. What do they do? What happens if they break up? What happens if it doesn’t work out? Then what? That’s kind of how I read this poem, and kind of the story behind it. A young girl has a summer romance, that ends when the leaves begin to fall. But she really did like him, and now, she’s alone again in her home, that reflects, in  way, how her heart is – dark, and in need of a reno, so to speak.

One thing to note on this one, is that the girl in the poem is not me. I had a quick summer fling a year ago, when I was out of town, but it barley lasted long enough to get it off the ground, and I can hardly count it as a relationship. In fact, I was the one who broke it off fairly quickly. But that also make me think; was I too quick, too harsh? Was I only afraid to give it a chance? Is that why I’m afraid that I’ll be the one alone while all my friends get married? Then I remember, that I’m not the only person who wonders if they are going to be ‘forever alone’. Everybody is afraid, to some extent, that they will never find ‘the one’, or find somebody who loves them, flaws and all. It’s just harder when you feel like you are alone in feeling that way.

So, I’m waiting for love, and hoping, in a secret way, that I’ll find a summer romance…and be able to keep it longer than the summer heat. Because when that fades, there’s nothing left but cold. And I want someone to be there through the cold. Trivial, in it’s own way, but true.