Sophistication

Oh the sophistication of man

How he bucks his head

And say the words

In a straight line

/

I heard

I heard of this place called

Timbuktu

/

Gold feathers and ancient names

Roam the streets

And give light

To the folly

Of this day and age

/

I heard

I heard of this place called

Chichen Itza

/

Towering pyramids and glass eyes

That birth

Fire and brimstone

To appease the gods

Of the here and

Now

/

Oh the sophistication of man

How we think there

Is something new under the sun

But it has always been 

alive


Photo by Aarif Sheikh on Unsplash

It’s alway money

Monopoly 

And certain times of the day

Lunch dinner and

Dessert

It’s always money

That has the final say

In the land of

Netflix 

And timezone prejudice

I dared to look 

To the green pastures

Of space and fields 

Of amber

But

It’s always money

That has the final say

In the land

Of breaking news

And forgotten stories


Photo by Josh Appel on Unsplash.

Invisible

Pausing and fearing

The invisible

Bonds that tie

Me to

This place I live

Painting and draping

Over all the

Memories that

Tie me to this

Invisible place

I live

For a mind wanders

And a souls tries

To sing

In this invisible world

I live


My personal journey with mental health has been an intersting one. Poetry helps me verbalize thoughts and feeling that don’t seem to have a space. Many times I wonder if I am alone in my experiences, but because of this little writing community, I know that this is not the case! Keep on writing and living, being and breathing! You got this! Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

I laugh

I laugh at the sun

And in my shining breath

I see how life

Feels beautiful

.

Care free birds

Swing and sway

As the lazy clouds roll by

.

And darling I drift off

To sleep

Nestled in your arms

Giggling at the new

Names 

We gave the trees


I am really enjoying the late spring and summer weather. It is such a wonderful time of year and I can’t wait to see all the adventures that this season has in store! Photo by Luiza Ribeiro on Unsplash

A Mad World

 Mad World by Tears for Fears

Forgotten realms held dear memories

Times that could have

Would have been

but Instead

I ran around in my mind waiting for the sky to fall

Trusted advisors and forieng friends

Became part of the enemies

In my heart

I closed my eyes waiting for the world to burn

Fire and hailstorm did reign

And distance people cried 

Don’t shoot

I opened my heart to the pain of it all

For it is a mad, mad world that 

We are living in

Where time and space

Feeds the black holes of our society

And the innocent

Man

Is shot dead

7 times

I cried my tears for all those lost

Those yet to be

What would have been

Those dear memories

I walked along the darkened road

Where my adversaries prowl

And waited

For my friends and family

I closed my mind to the destruction of it all 

And lived

With the choices that I made

Water and wind guiding me

To the light

Out of this mad, mad world. 


I wrote this last year in response to some sort of prompt which is now long forgotten 🙂 Does that every happen to you? Do you find old pems and wonder, now how did I write that? Photo by History in HD on Unsplash

Published in Visual Verse

There was a rush of wind as the sun spilled into my window. I could see the bright and blinding rays of the afternoon sun as it slowly moved across the sky. This was my favorite time of day.

My grandmother called it the “L’heure de soleil”. She would tell me tales of how  our world would meet the spirit world during this hour. For just a moment, our worlds would collide and wonderful things could happen. She would tell me of how the sky birds were the only ones who could travel between the two worlds. This was why my people said these birds were harbingers of sacred events. 

I rested my hands on the window as I let….


This was a piece that I wrote a few months ago for Visual Verse! I had a lot of fun with this one! Hoping to submit something for this month’s prompt!

The river

Where are you going?

.

Rippling waves

Lap against

The worn and

Creaking

Wooden skiff

.

He does not 

Answer my

Question

Extending a hand

.

I know the exact amount

I know the payment required

.

A tarnished silver coin

Cold

Pale eyes

He looks through my soul

.

Where are you going?


I wrote this in response to The Free Revoltions Prompt Challenge! Be sure to check out the theme for Issue 2! Photo by Jack Anstey on Unsplash