The Music In My Bones

It’s the twirling and the twisting

And the spin, the dip, the whirl

The flying of my feet

And the beauty in the beat


It’s the music in my bones

And pounding in my chest

The laughter from my lips

And swinging in my hips


It’s the smoothness of the steps

The feeling of the frolic

It’s the hand upon my waist

And the smile upon your face


It’s the very need to dance

The knowledge of the steps

It’s being unrestrained

Exhilaration that’s unfeigned


It’s the sweat that’s in the movement

And the feel of hand in hand

It’s the flight, the fight, the fall

The splendor of it all


It’s the rush of being held

The rush of my own feet

It’s the beauty in the action

The following chain reaction


It’s the tune that’s in my soul

And the steps that match

It’s the very dance that embraces

And the whirl of all the faces


It’s the twirling and the twisting

And the spin, the dip, the whirl

The flying of my feet

And the beauty in the beat


Many of my closest friends know that I have a thing for guys who can two step. I love it. For somebody to be able to grab you, go through the motions, dip and spin you around till you’re dizzy, for me, it is so much fun. What more do you want that a guy who can dance? I mean, half the time I’m busy singing the country music we’re dancing to, and then laughing when they can spin me around, and around and around. I love it.

I bring this up because over the past couple weeks, I’ve been able to get out and dance – and not the clubbing type ‘dance’ either. True, down to earth, spin, dance dip, two stepping. There’s something about it that just drives me crazy in the best of ways.

I mean, I had so much fun a couple weekends ago at a uni party. A country song came on, and so me and this guy two stepped. When it turned into top 40 again, and people began grinding instead of true dancing, he only smiled, and asked if I waned to to two step again. “To this?” I asked. “It’s top 40!” He only laughed and said “We’ll make it country.” And sure enough, to the surprise and astounded looks, we two stepped. And it was great.

So that’s what that is about. Hope you all get to have a little fun this weekend, and get that freedom and fun that comes with the feeling of the dance.


The Dark Man and His Deathly Steed

The dark man and his deathly steed

Feasted upon man with greed

Taking lives and taking tool

Taking man where they did not wish to go


He stole at war, he stole on blades

He stole through a thick bloody haze

With his grey cape flapping fast

He stole the future, left the past


He plundered on murder, he plundered on doubt

He took the young and old, the thin and stout

And he loved the sick, he loved the ill

So he took those with no hearty will


The dark man and his deathly steed

Feasted on plague and times of need

When people were poor and sick and slender

In their slumber they would surrender


To the deathly horse’s iron hooves

Centuries of blood within their grooves

Where he trampled upon the light of life

And took away the human might


For everyday they trample fast

When they steal the future, leave the past

And they steal the starlight, they steal the sun

They steal life’s pleasures, with death begun


For the dark man and his horse of death

Pride themselves on living theft

Of stealing life, of stealing light

Of stealing friends, the son, the wife


A little dark, I know, but what’s darker than Halloween? And yes, I consider this a more Halloween poem, considering Halloween was two days ago. Pity that it wasn’t a Friday, but what can you do?

Anyways, this poem/horror story/creeptastic fiction was written a while ago. Like, six months ago. However, I thought, in absence of a light-hearted poem  full of stars and skies and nature and love, I would throw a wee bit of a curve ball at you. So. I hope you enjoy it, even if it is a little twisted.


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.

For One More Night

 Set me free

For one more night

Where I can taste

The bliss of flight


And feel my wings

Upon my back

Before I have to

Give them back


Before I return

Unto the night

A life of slumber

Without sight


To wait within

My gilded cage

To live forever

And never age


To live in heartache

In freedom’s want

The cage of gold

I’ll forever haunt


So tonight I’ll fly

And soar and hope

That I’ll learn

Of how to cope


And while I fly

I’ll remember this

The taste of heaven

And starlight’s kiss


So set me free

For one more night

Where I can taste

The bliss of flight


I don’t know where this poem came from. I don’t know why it speaks to me, when I’m the one who wrote it. And I certainly don’t know why I felt sad when I wrote it.

It’s funny, how, sometimes, the words just appear on the page for what seems like no reason. Like your just a tool for your own imagination. It’s a weird feeling.

Perhaps I’ll just sit down to write freely more often…


It’s the budding of the flower

The spreading of the wings

The spark that creates a flame

The way the caged bird sings


It’s the smile of a stranger

The promise of a friend

The smile of someone loving

The person on the mend


It’s when the world is dying

And there’s little left to save

That everything looks different

The light at the end of the cave


And when that day comes

Everything will bloom

The world will turn once more

And never meet our doom


It’s just a short poem for today…a happier one, to offset the last one. Sadly, I haven’t been too creative in the past couple days, so I don’t have anything truly exciting to post. However, I will say, that now that it is summer, I feel more light hearted, more awake, than I have the past couple months. And, oh my goodness, I’ve been able to sit down and read. Holy mother of ducks. I now have run out of the books I was lent…already. Oops.

And, on that note, I’m going to have to find some more. My parents announced a couple days ago that they are taking us to Hawaii for two weeks, and I’m so excited. So, hopefully, I’ll come back from there inspired, rested, and with a good tan. That’s not for another 20 days yet, so I will keep posting until that day, and then, I guess, have a two week hiatus from here. 

Anyways, hoping your enjoying your summer so far.

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. 🙂

Find My Heaven, Banish My Hell

I’m ready to dance

I’m ready to sing

I’m ready to find heaven

And banish my hell


Break free of my chains

Break free of the game

Break free of the night

And breathe in the light


I’m going to restart my heart

I’m going to fly again

I’m going to find what makes me

And see that sunset sky


A way from that hell

A way from my chains

A way for me to finally see

And finally become me


I’m going to feel that fire

I’m going to feel desire

I’m going to chase the stars

And only stop for dreams


Tonight I’m going to flare

Tonight I’m going to shine

Tonight I’m going to live and fly

And live to never die

Tonight, I’m getting my makeup done, getting my hair curled, and putting on my grad dress. Because, tonight, is the night that all the grade twelves get into their limos with friends, take pictures, and go to a banquet held in their honor. Then we dance the night away in a haze of family and friends, and, maybe, a wee bit of drinking. (Most of us are legal, after all…) We get ourselves all prettied up for one night that we hope we never forget. Because this is part of the next step in our lives, so we are told.

I’ve been to a lot of grads. Fourteen, in fact. And each one, they tell us that this is the next step in our journey of life. This is the night where we celebrate the work we have done over the past twelve years, and can enjoy it. What they always forget, is that we have to go to school the next weeks, write our finals, and then we get kicked out into the real world…

Anyways, I don’t know how I feel about today. Excited? Happy? Sad? I don’t know. It’s nice to be primped and pampered, and have half a dozen cameras going off at once at you. It’ll make you feel special, and like all this work was worth it. But we’ll see. This poem is just for tonight. A little step onto the next journey, where I’ll forge my own path in life from now on…So wish me luck for a good night!

Find Me A River, Find Me A Dream

Find me a river

Find me a stream

Find me a place

Where I can dream


Under the willows

And under the sun

Find me a place

Where I can run


Past the garden

Past the creek

Find me a place

To be unique


Through the woods

And through the trees

Find me a place

To feel the breeze


Close to the meadow

Close to the field

Find me a place

That’s unrevealed


Next to the willow

And next to the sea

Find me a place

Where I can be me


Away from the town

Away from the farm

Find me a place

Where there’s no harm


Near the clouds

And near the stream

Find me a place

Where I can dream


Where I can lie

Beneath the sky

Find me a place

To never die


I think, sometimes, that we all wish that we could escape the present life we’re living. Get away from school, work. our families, our friends, our daily problems. Something inside us just shuts down, and that want to run, get away from it all, get to a place where we feel calm, and safe, and ourselves again.

I’m like that. Some days, when I’m up to my neck in school work, and volleyball, and family life and this and that, and oh my goodness, I have to get this done by that date, something inside me wants so badly to just get out of the city, away from it all. Go to the mountains, the farm, a summertime memory. Just get away from everything that is overwhelming me.

We live in a world that is so go-go-go, get this done, that done, keep on your toes, etc. We are always on our smartphones and the internet, always connected to the world. We sleep with our phones within a arm’s length, check Facebook and Twitter when we go to bed, then when we wake up, watch the news while we eat breakfast, get a text asking about a class in the morning. It’s a constant input of information, constant this and that. And we’re expected to take it all in, get good marks in school, work, play a sport, this that. It’s hectic. My own family is running seven days a week between my brother’s soccer and volleyball, my other brother’s karate, my volleyball, dad’s work, mom’s work. And it never stops.

It’s such a fast-paced planet that we hardly get a chance to breathe. I end up missing those summer days where I could just sit with a good book, and not worry about university applications, work, what I’m going to do, and somebody said this, so I should look it up…

No. I want simpler times. A place for me to breathe, to sit, to finally relax. To get healthy again. To not worry about a million different things, and a thousand different other things that are outside of my control.

But for now, I have to be content to sit in a windowless room while I slave away at math and bio and science, things that not only am I not good at, but things that I hate doing. For now, all I can do is push through, and hope that with the summer sun will come a time where I can sit and finally breathe.