A Kaleidoscope of Colors

A kaleidoscope of colors
twirling in my mind.
How can I describe
the feelings I feel inside?
Can I open up my heart,
hoping to open up your eyes
to see the side of me
that you do not know?

Sensations tingling in my spine,
sounds buzzing in my ears,
fear pounding in my heart.
The deeper we go,
the darker it gets -
shades of red and purple,
and chromatic blacks,
but on the surface,
all you see is yellow.

Shining brightly,
a smile on my face
with tears deep down inside.
A kaleidoscope of colors
twirling in my mind.
Do I dare to show
the side of me
you do not know?
The side that isn’t
yellow?


Image from: http://henpantha.wordpress.com/2011/09/26/needle-point/

One-Hour Drive

The perfect poem for a rainy day

One-Hour Drive

It’s relaxing to drive
under the sprinkles,
listening to the radio
as you watch the rainbow
come out of the golden-vanilla sky
that’s semi-polluted
with chemicals
and you think to yourself,
“what a wonderful life.”

Rainbow on Freeway
A road full of strangers
with one common goal,
the desire, the need, the want
to go some place,
to belong somewhere.

As they move forward,
spurts of water
splash your window,
blocking your vision,
leaving you behind.

Rainy Drive
The sky becomes grayer.
Life becomes bluer
as you stare at the massive freeways
looming above your head,
realizing how beautiful,
strong and solid they are,
how small and fragile you are,
sitting in your stylish little car.
And The Fray comes on,
“You found me, you found me …
lost and insecure.”

Overpass
~ all images taken from Google

 

High on Relaxation

a walk in the park,
a glance at the stars,
some chatting, some eating
cookies ‘n cream ice cream,

some humming,
some sipping
vanilla lattes
in a mellow cafe
writing poetry
on a rainy day.

some drawing, some painting,
some reading
on the couch,
some dancing, some jumping
some musical therapy.

some snuggling,
some cuddling,
some aromatherapy
shampoo,
some sleeping,
some dreaming,
a total ME day,
a dream come true.

- Read about how I spent my Friday “me day” here.

Ominous

I originally wrote this poem back in February 2008 while my ex was driving me to his place.  It’s one of my favorite poems because of the fast-paced rhythm and the meaning behind it.  I wasn’t planning to post this until October (around Halloween), but then I saw an “ominous” moon again on February 13th, almost 6 years after I wrote this poem and it just spoke to me.  Lucky for me, I happened to have my camera to capture it as well.  All the better for you :)

Ominous

Ominous

A splotchy beige roundness
hidden behind clouds,
floating, hovering
in a violet, black sky,
luminous, ominous,
casting moonlit glares
upon us
as we drive
on the highway,
as we drive
ourselves insane.

Thinking, believing
that the shadows
against the moon
is a witch
on her broom,
that there are vampires
lurking,
predators
waiting
for prey.

Wolves crashing
through the forest,
ready to feast
and howl.
Witches dancing
around the cauldron
cooking
up spells,
as we shiver
in fear,
letting imagination
consume us.

But what we fear
is from within
the beats of our hearts,
the thump, thump
of greed, of jealousy,
of vanity and insecurity,
dishonesty,
lack of purity.

The anger, the madness
surges in flames
as we fidget and blink.
A pang in the chest,
a clasp to the heart
that pounds and pounds
as disparity crawls
on our backs.
Fear tickles
the spine.
The heat rushes
to our face
as we gasp and choke,
breaking out
in tears.

Fear of who we are,
of what we are,
and what we can do,
as we grasp
for the other’s hand,
trying to comprehend,
to understand,
to disbelieve
the insane.

Waiting, hoping
the clouds will disappear,
and the moon
will turn white again,
smiling down upon us
as we go back
to believe the world
is good
and that we
are sane.

The Sense of Urgency

The Sense of Urgency

I find it amusing to see cars race to cut me off only to be stopped at the red light, needing to brake furiously.  Americans are often in a hurry to accomplish so many things on a given day that they fail to see the beauty in the world.  I try not to be one of those people, so I make it a conscious decision to take a moment to breathe.

The Sense of Urgency

Cars on the freeway
speeding and braking,
braking and speeding,
drivers on the freeway
cursing and cussing,
cussing and cursing
because they’re gonna be late.

People in line
crossing their arms
stomping their feet
cursing and cussing,
cussing and cursing
because they’re gonna be late.

Tick, tock, tick tock
what is the meaning
of the clock?

clock
Every delay
can make you late
for a meeting,
a workout,
a dinner,
a hangout,
or a sitcom
in bed.

Every delay
is an opportunity
to enjoy the moment,

to watch the  sun set
in brilliant colors,
to watch the rain reflect
off wet pavement,

to sing along
to a song,
to listen
to the angelic voice
of the cashier,

to see a child
smile
from pure joy,
to simply
take a moment
for yourself
to cherish
every delay

every day
and make it well spent
because you never know
when your last delay
will be.

Not Even the Trees

Not Even the Trees

Steel-toed boots, high-heeled shoes,
K*Swiss, Nike, Doc Martins -

Soles on wet pavement
taking step after step,
long-legged strides,
some in jeans, some in skirts.

Soles on reflected orange lights,
shimmering green, flickering yellow.
What does it mean?
The meaning is lost.

Owners of soles
on the same path.
North, South, East, West,
they converge and diverge,
but it’s still the same path.

Through raindrops on wet pavement,
passed storefronts and passing cars,
longing for merchandise,
longing for the past.

Heads bowed down
staring at puddles
of memory,
ripples
of emotion.

The soles walk on,
seeing but not seen,
seen but not seeing,
in the dark, dark night.

The wind whispers
to the trees
and the trees
whisper back,
pondering, contemplating
the meaning
and the meaning
is lost.

trees

Writing Challenge:

Now it’s your turn -

  • This poem was inspired by the song “Not Even the Trees” by Hootie & the Blowfish
  • Write a poem based on a song that speaks to you.
  • Enter your poem as a comment below.