Darkness is my light.
Moonlight brightens my unpaved path.
It guides me gently.
Tenderly.
It whispers for me to walk slowly.
Take it all in.
Nothing is more peaceful than walks under a starlit sky down the road that isn’t traveled.
A road forgotten.
A road hidden.
A road that awakens under the spell of the silent alarm of the sunset –
and sleeps on the command of the sunrise.
This road leads me closer to finding me.
I have said it before.
I walk alone, my footsteps are my own.
As the rest of the world slumbers, my dark forest blooms.
Precious, mystical night flowers.
The fragrance of sweet memories fills the air from their open petals.
The aroma reaches its arms out and as I inhale it reaches down, deep down and hugs my soul-
It warms my heart, over and over again.
At times it leaves me breathless and I have to remember how to breathe- this dark forest is dangerously captivating.
It is necessary.
Everyone needs this vital terrain.
A place where your imagination swirls around you like fireflies in the summer night.
A place where you can tell your secrets to the stars and they hide them for you in the universe.
A place where tears grow forests of weeping willows with hanging vines of glowing emeralds.
Bittersweet beauty that reminds you that the seeds of pain can still grow something worth admiring.
A place where it rains diamond dust and the sounds of thunder are made by the souls of those we lost- in the years past- playing harps and violins to soothe you.
These roads dissect through endless fields of onyx-velvet black roses which are soft like satin, yet have thorns made of razor-sharp gold.
I slowly run the palm of my hand over them and each petal caresses my fingers.
Temptation.
Temptation.
Temptation.
Under the veil of the darkness, I see things so much more clearly.
I have so much to discover here, so I must continue my journey and you must continue yours.
If our paths cross, we can sit at the edge of the waterfall and count the rainbows scattered across the night sky and share our stories under the moonlight.
Tag Archives: Urban poet
Black and White
Beauty is black and white.
Simple.
Soft.
Highlights of delicate shades of gray as she ages with grace.
Poised in elegance.
Wrinkles in silk that are still soft to the touch.
I dare you to touch.
Captivating, sinisterly seductive innocence.
Rare treasure hiding in plain sight.
A magnet for a smile that draws you in.
If only you knew the depth of her mind.
The fantasies and magic realms she dreams of.
The warmth of her unconditional love for life and the purity of her heart.
She is a light within a light.
Beauty is black and white.
Finders Keepers
I think I finally recovered all the particles of me.
I had to search all over.
It was the most exhausting quest, but worth it.
I didn’t do it alone.
His love for me shined the brightest light along the darkest paths.
His strength pulled me out of quicksand multiple times.
He sheltered me from the violent storms that ensued.
He helped put me back together, one fragile piece at a time.
You see,I was the chipped porcelain doll in the window that no one wanted.
I was imperfect in so many ways, but all he saw was beauty.
So,I write this to say thank you.
I write this to say sorry for the pain I caused.
I write this to say I love you.
Itinerary
Let the raindrops serenade us tonight.
Open the shades and let the moonlight bathe us.
Raise the window and let the cool air kiss our naked bodies.
It will just be a temporary cold.
Our heat combined is the only furnace we need.
There are no mistakes with us.
All paths lead us right back here.
Daydreaming
Sometimes I drift off into outer space.
I float slowly with my eyes closed, my arms and hands spread out at my sides.
I feel the changes of the earth’s atmosphere as it bathes my exposed skin.
I ascend.
I ascend.
I ascend.
Suspended in magic.
Weightless.
I only open my eyes when I no longer feel the wind.
I open my eyes and I look forward to seeing you at my side.
These travels are for us.
The world stands still, but our universe is infinite.
The most beautiful chaos.
Constant collisions of emotions, love, fears, truth.
They explode and generate endless stars and galaxies for us to explore.
Five words I whisper to you.
One day at a time.
Give it Back
I’ve been yelling at the clock all day.
Yelling at the top of my lungs.
Stop!
Stop!
Your evil hands dictating our lives as they pass.
You point out – down to the very second- that our youth slips away from us.
You remind me that I grow old.
You remind me that time is of essence.
You give me anxiety.
Time.
No time.
Wasted time.
Lost time.
Forgotten time.
Beautiful time.
You just continue through war, famine, feast.
You just march on through celebrations, birth and death.
You remind the seasons to come and go.
Tell me, why do you torture us so?
I am begging you to slow down.
I just want to sleep in his arms for two eternities.
I just want to hear his heart beating for three eternities.
I want to hear my kids footsteps, laughter and feel their hugs for four eternities.
Time, do you hear me?
You just look me in my face and ignore me.
You just keep moving ahead without any regard.
We are powerless.
Time, you are cruel.
Jungle of Man
Processing.
Processing.
The wait can be so painful.
Uncomfortable silence consumes the moment.
It’s too late to recant your words or undo your actions.
You put them in the universe and now they hang like vines in a jungle.
Easy, accessible reminders of things never to be forgotten.
Vines that block the path to forgiveness.
Vines so thick they can’t be cut down.
So we wait and hope the treacherous jungle that was made burns down and spawns an oasis of understanding, love and commitment.
Processing.
Processing.
Processing.
Speechless
A word can’t describe it.
I don’t think a word actually exists.
I know that I exist because of you.
I’ve never felt alive until now.
Until I met you.
Loving you is effortless.
Loving you is so easy.
This connection is beyond this realm.
Some type of sci-fi, cosmic love story.
Definitely not ordinary.
Eternal.
We probably loved each other in past lives.
Souls searching across black holes through time,
refusing to stay apart.
I need you.
Inner Thoughts
I think I’m crazy.
I think, I think too much.
Like, as I drink coffee I wonder about the workers that harvested it.
Do they wake up every morning, with pain in their joints?
Just to make two dollars a week for this five dollar cup that I enjoy.
Or, were the beans picked by a child?
A child who knows no other life than to be a servant in the fields.
I wonder if they dream?
Do they sing children songs as they count the coffee beans?
Why should I be worried?
That’s just the way the world is.
Children starve.
That’s just the way the world is.
Deprived of a childhood because, well that’s just the way the world is.
We don’t need to know the back story.
Just get it here for us to consume.
Not only have I been told that I think too much,
I have been told I love too much.
“Girl, you love everyone.”
I used to be ashamed of it.
Now, I see it as a superpower.
Being able to see beauty beneath what others call, “ugly”.
Just the other day I was able to revel in the warmest brown eyes.
Each eye held shimmering glimmers of hope and dreams.
They twinkled with life under the moonlight.
I saw all this when he asked,” Do you have a cigarette to spare?”
You see, I have super powers.
You can tell me your fears and I will listen.
You can tell me your secrets and I will lock them away for you.
I am able to love when I’m hurt.
I am able to love when I’m sad.
Even when life beats me down and I am on my knees begging god to help me understand this mess called my life.
Even when the warmth from my tears drown the sides of my face in dispair and my heart aches like it only has one or two beats left and I clutch my chest trying to soothe the painful blows from the realities of life and my lungs harden and don’t want to breath anymore.
I can still pick myself up from the muddy puddles of the world and look up at the sky and get lost in the beauty of the universe.
I can still dream about love.
I can still love you.
I love you.
Oxymoron
Perfect imperfection.
Opposites that attract so naturally.
Eloquent as a violin playing as the ship sinks in the storm.
Bittersweet but so beautiful.
Perfect imperfection.
Milk chocolate for eyes that stare into the clouds endlessly.
Daydreamer, daydreamer are the words that the wind whispers in her ears.
The sun shines bright trying to reveal her streaks of tears.
She wears them proud- invisible tears , invisible fears – indeed.
She still smiles.
Shy but still proud of her perfect imperfections.
Stretch marks from the miracles of life that she bore into this wretched land of man.
Stripes of a warrior, strength of a gladiator.
Battle scars etched into skin the texture of velvet made with ingredients of honey , almonds and caramel.
Perfect imperfections.
Perfect imperfections indeed.
