Poetry

Take-Off

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ Leave a comment

A blanket of darkness,
a bird’s eye view
of a million lights,
a glistening map
of the cityscape,
a glistening glimpse
into people’s lives.

Who are they
and what do they do
in the dark, dark night?
Is it a city of peace,
of the perfect American dinner,
of sweet, sweet slumber,
happiness and romance
all bundled into one?

Or is it a city of scandal,
filled with reckless behavior,
money-driven goals,
drug-crazy addicts,
bang, bang
gunshots and tears?

It’s hard to see
in a blanket of darkness
what the lights signify.
Who are these people
and what do they do
in the dark, dark night?

City at Night
– image taken from Google

Mother’s Children

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Through the storm they ran,
slipping and sliding
on the muddy hills.
It was a race home,
to see who could be the first
to receive hot cocoa,
and Mother’s warm embrace.

They longed to see
the flicker of light
in her eyes,
and hear
the soothing music
of her voice
in the comfort
of their home.

Yet the storm raged on,
with strong, heavy rain
that slashed their cheeks,
thunder that cackled
liked monsters,
wind that cried
like banshees,
lightning that blinded
their eyes,
while fear
crossed their hearts.
They may never
see Mother
again.

The Love of My Life

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ 1 Comment

As the sun starts to rise,
I can feel her breath upon me
with the scent of morning dew.

Dancing in the breeze,
she glows with life.

Her hair rustles in the wind,
skirt flowing hypnotically
back and forth, rhythmically
and I am captivated
by her beauty.

Her wrinkled bulldog
skin glows with warmth
and I long to caress
each bump, each curve,
each crevice, touching it,
loving it, knowing it,
controlling it, predicting
her sometimes erratic behavior
as she breaks down
and cries,
shedding inches and inches
of tears
until her clothes
are no longer
dry.

When her anxiety is gone,
she smiles once more
and breaks my heart
with her rainbow emotions
and famous mid-day pastels.

Her mix of pinks and oranges
overlapping purples, intertwining
emotions freeze my eyes
with longing and I want to hold her
in my arms, in my memory
forever
under the golden, vanilla
sky.

Refreshingly sweet,
she whispers melodies
throughout the night,
calming my nerves
with her gentle voice,
brushing away pain
with a simple sweep
of her hand.

Late at night,
when I’m lost,
she guides me
with her moonlight.
Her sensual curves
of earthly tones
glows with love
as she undresses
before me
and I am struck
with awe.

A twinkle of light
sparkles in her eyes
as she melts
into the night
and I am mesmerized,
knowing, we would never
be one.

Cadillac

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ 6 Comments

Tall and slender,
lots of curves,
buns of steel,
blue as the sky,
deep as the sea,
hopeful, bright,
and happy.

A golden interior,
leather seats
massaging my back,
caressing me.
Waiting in park,
waiting patiently.
Key to the engine,
key to his heart.

His every move
is my command.
“Imagine,”
he sings
my favorite song.

Tap, tap, we drive
slowly, cautiously.
Over time, faster,
passionately.
Right turn, left turn,
U-turn, I turn.
We move in sync
to the traffic jam,
“dancing in the moonlight.”

I light a cigarette,
the wind blows
my hair back.
His mirrored eyes
tell me how beautiful
I am.
While I’m lost
in thought,
he reads
my mind.
Green light, red light,
he knows to stop.

In hours of darkness,
he becomes my light.
When teardrops
block my vision,
he wipes away the rain.
When I become lost,
he’s my GPS.
In hours of sorrow,
he sings my song.

He takes me places
far away from here.
He sets me free
on the open highway,
under the star-filled sky.
He is “the wind
beneath my wings.”

cadillac

Virtual Love

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A smile slowly creeps
onto my tired, drained face
as you woo me with words
from miles away.

I can only imagine
how it’ll sound
being whispered
in my ear.
Will it take
my breath away?

Pouty lip kisses
and emoticon hugs,
past, present, future,
anything and everything,
we talk of it,

day after day,
night after night
until my eyes droop down
and the sun comes up.

Yours and mine,
a connection
that cannot be defined.

I haven’t met you,
but I know you.
I don’t know you,
but I love you.

The stars say
it’s a dream come true,
MASH said
I’d marry K,
but I don’t know.

You’re so close,
yet so far
away.

Forever Creating

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ 1 Comment

A crystal dewdrop twinkles in the sun
A little furry spider weaves his web.
He’s intertwining, overlapping; spins
and spins to make, to shape, and to create
a simple work of tranquil beauty. He’s

just like the painter with his brush in hand
and a white canvas before him, he will
create when inspiration strikes, but for
now, he will simply watch, observe the light
that dances on the haystacks, that plays in
your eyes, that surrounds you with warmth, the light
embraces nature with its touch. He smiles
and paints with pastel colors, gently, he
puts vivid images, visions from his
mind on to canvas. How serene, a work
of art. He paints and paints from day to night,
just watching the waves, the stars, the life that
goes by. He sees, he paints, and he creates.

Just like the writer with his special quill
pen, who puts words on paper, which brings things
to life. He writes and writes from dawn to dusk
of people, places, and weird events. He
shares heartfelt emotions, his joy and pain,
his dreams and hopes. He shares his fantasies;
he beckons words to come alive. He writes,
he types, he makes, he shapes, and he creates
through time and space, eternal, just like God.

forever creating
– Images taken from Google

Perfectly Imperfect

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ Leave a comment

Is there something that you’ve always wanted to do, but something beyond your control was holding you back?  I recently went on a camping trip that included an 8 mile hike, and I realized how annoyed and frustrated I was.  I have these crazy, finicky knees that like to buckle and twist whenever it makes any sort of unexpected impact.  Once they twist, the knees, of course, become swollen.  Because of this issue, I cannot run or do intense sports because I can easily hurt myself.  I can go hiking on flat trails and hike uphill, but when I go downhill, I have to be extra careful and watch every single step that I take to avoid any rocks or twigs that can cause an “unexpected impact.”  It’s very frustrating because I have to hike downhill very slowly.  Instead of getting tired from physical exertion, I get tired from physically concentrating on watching my step.  To top it off, I always feel bad when someone stays behind to wait for me, when I know they prefer to go at a faster pace.

However, with all that said, I realized something.  There’s a difference between accepting a fact and giving up and accepting a fact and making improvements.  I know that I can do better than that, so I will strive for it.  I know that I will never be as athletic as a normal person, but I can be the best ME possible, and that’s enough.  I set my own goals and I reach for them.

Here is a poem I wrote a while back that really describes my perfectly imperfect knees.

 

Perfectly Imperfect

A loose carpet, a crack in the street
and KABAM, she falls –
bleeding internally, she grins
like nothing has happened
because it has happened
so many times before
and will …
many times more.

Her sorrow
no one truly understands
as she tries to do
all that everyone else can.
Staying healthy, staying happy,
concealing her knees
behind jeans and skirts,
perfecting the imperfect limp
and bearing it all,
smiling like a doll

as she lies on the floor,
and stares at the ceiling.
It’s a different state of mind,
a different state of being.
With her legs propped up,
stiff as a stick,
swollen and heavy,
she thinks to herself,
what a wonderful life …

if she could run
like the wind
and be MVP,
but knees don’t heal
overnight.

To be normal,
to be all that she is
and wants to be,
she puts on her braces
and smiles once more
for now she is normal,
somewhat …
as she cries inside,
nobody knows
because nobody’s
perfect.

My Brush with Beauty

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I am but an element
in nature’s canvas,
a mere splash of paint,
insignificant
compared to the fire bird
looming above me.
Its orange wisps
breathing energy
into the sky.

I see a beak,
perfectly defined,
connecting to
a textured chest
of feathered clumps
that dissipate
into the sky,
spreading wispy wings
and a fiery tail.

A life force of energy
weaving above me,
orange, pink, white
breaking into
the blue, blue sky.

Mesmerizing,
captivating,
the fire bird soars
through shadows
and silhouettes,
beyond houses and trees,
through mountains
to the horizon,
passed you and me.

The fire bird lives on
forever through time,
captured on
the canvas
of my mind.

30 Days of Beard

~ whisperingsbyjkl ~ 3 Comments

The last couple of poems I posted were pretty feminine, so I thought I would give you a fresh perspective this time around.  I wrote this poem during the crazy season at work using testimonials from my male coworkers.  I hope you enjoy this piece =)

30 Days of Beard

Leaving at dawn,
returning at dusk,
my life has become
a blur.

Day after day,
night after night,
the second hand moves,
the beard grows longer.

Little by little,
patches of hair
come to life.
I know myself
no more.

Staring in the mirror,
I see someone
who’s not quite me,
for HE
is hairy.

I want to grab
a razor, a knife
to slice
it off
cuz it itches,
so I scratch it.

I find it annoying,
but I keep toying
with it.

I rub it,
I scrub it,
I poke it,
I stroke it.

It’s my stubble
of knowledge,
or so I think.

“You look homeless,”
they say,
but who are they
to me?

An aura of manhood,
harboring strength
and warmth,
connecting me
with my father,
my brothers, my ancestors.
Bam, bam…
I am caveman.

Outside, it is drizzly,
I can wrestle a grizzly
anytime.

But not today,
for today,
I will shave.

Little by little,
the hair
drifts away,
taking my memories
with it.

Now…
smooth and clean-shaven,
I am handsome
once more.

I look at the mirror
and I feel empty
inside.

After Shaving

 

Crush

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My ears perk up –
ting, ting, ting –
jangling chains
down the hallway
and I know it’s HIM,
as my heart
starts beating
bump bump,
bump bump.

Breathe in,
breathe out,
I face forward,
staring
at my screen,
pretending
not to care.
A smile creeps
onto my lips.
He’s here.

His simple presence
makes my day.
His close proximity
puts me on edge,
a mix of nervousness
surrounded by
a sweetness,
a warmth
that I
cannot
describe.

I avoid his eyes
and watch his lips
as he speaks.

His voice
soothing to my ears,
yet I don’t hear
a word
he says.

I want to touch him,
but I won’t.
I want to kiss him,
but I can’t.
I want him to go
so I don’t feel
this internal
battle.

Yet, I want him to stay
because I don’t want
to feel
this…
emptiness…
as if nothing…
was ever…
there.