Category Archives: emotion

100 Word Song – Limelight

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Moon

Like the moon held captive in the night sky,

I am suspended in my reality unable to breathe.

My true freedom is a vague memory.

My personal space exists only in the lens of a camera.

Vague reflections of a life I once had are mirrored in that glass.

All I wanted was to reflect my passion through my art.

Fragmented moments alone are stored deep in memory,

treasured few blinks in time that I can grasp and hold tight.

I envy that moon, alone in the night sky

surrounded by stars unable to bridge the distance.

Solitude escapes me.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge over at My Blog Can Beat up your Blog.  You should check it out and follow him if you are not already.

I got to choose the song this week and I chose Limelight by Rush. (yes, it’s a Canadian band and I am Canadian).  Although the song has a great rock beat in typical Rush style, there is a sadness behind the words that I felt compelled to share.  Neil Peart struggled with their rise to fame and the lack of courtesy shown by fans and paparazzi.  Being in the “Limelight” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=vUNxqE_3N0c

Starting over – 100 Word Song

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She watched his slender frame exit through the doorway for the last time.  Her shoulders were so tense she could feel the pain radiating at the base of her skull.   He opened the car door, waved goodbye and he was gone.

She opened the bottle of wine and fell into the couch.  For the first time in years the house had a serene quality to it.  It was a feeling she hadn’t noticed even missing but now that it was back she allowed that tranquility to bathe her in its warmth.  He was now a memory.  Time to start over.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  The song is “Starting Over”, by John Lennon.

I Hear Only You

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Another poetic duet with my dear friend Sage Doyle.   Please click the link to his page and treat yourself to some of his other writing.

***

Amidst the calling wind I turn

to find you there, bating

the imprints you left behind

as you found your voice

~

I watched you follow that cry

churning in desperate circles

chasing the sound you had forgotten

remembering when your voice was strong

~

It was then that I began to fall

if only for the reaching, the sound

of my own echoes were of remorse

the recall of these discrepancies

~

I search for your hand

to steady me and  hold me as I fall

stronger than any voice in the dark

the errant sounds land heavily on my heart

~

It is this restitution which I embrace

in order to continue on, calling along the way

while you become the stronghold,

the stage of my convictions

~

I seek and hold the dulcet tones

those symbols of your existence in my reality

those things that hold me true to who I am

and that voice that draws me to you

Dream a little dream of me

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heart

While your eyes feast on the dancing lights

shimmering upon your tree,

I hope you take the time to remember

and dream a little dream of me.

Though worlds apart, I cannot dismiss

the memory of  your smile.

Knowing that you hold me close to your heart

only makes the longing worthwhile.

Moments spent suspended in your gaze

seem like a lifetime ago.

But those emotions bubble under my skin,

the seed just waiting to grow.

While visions of you dance in my head

and your laughter hangs in the air,

I long for the day I can look in your eyes

and the feelings we have can be shared.

The vast chasm of our realities

hold you so far out of touch.

My one wish for Christmas this year

is that I didn’t want you so much.

~~

Written for Romantic Monday

Did you hear what I hear?

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So, the beginning of the subject line is a slight deviation from a Christmas song…but it is appropriate on more than one level.  For those of you who love Romantic Mondays as much as I do, I am channeling my inner high school geek and perpetuating a rumor that has piqued my curiosity.

Romantic Monday will breathe life once again this coming Monday, December 16th, or so I have heard and am hoping.  For those of you acquainted with this special day, I hope the holiday romantic in you will join me in making sure this rumor comes to life!  Be sure to stalk Edward Hotspur and let’s make this rumor a reality.

Merry Romancemas!!

Unspoken words

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The way your eyes look into mine is unfair.

You hold me in your gaze.

You see me.  You see into me.

Your eyes travel the contour of my face and rest on my smile.

Your eyes know every wrinkle around my eyes.

Your eyes know the emotion in every facial expression I have.

Your eyes know me.

But it isn’t fair.

Your eyes will never be able to look outward with mine,

they will never be able to look towards a future together.

lovers-embrace

For as much as we are drawn together,

the vision in your reality keeps us apart.

But your eyes continue to speak to me,

volumes of implied feelings are expressed with each blink.

My eyes read those thoughts and answer back.

The emotion in our unspoken words is palpable.

Hold me in your gaze for a while longer.

Hold me there forever.

~~

(image credit: michellealva.com)

100 Word Song – I nearly lost you

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You left so quickly.  I didn’t have time to say goodbye and, in my misery and grief, I nearly lost you.  But your voice permeates my dreams.  The sound of your laughter echoes in my memory.  Those idiosyncracies that used to wear thin are now the moments I cherish the most.

A rider may have fallen, but the ghost of you still navigates those winding curves in my memory.  You will never cease to exist and, although I may have thought you were gone, you will always live on because I choose to remember you.

I hear your distant cry.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge – one of my new favorite challenges.  If you haven’t tried this yet, I thoroughly recommend it!!

My holiday spirit in two words

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Today’s world is a far cry from simple.  It is a labyrinth of cultures, race, skin color and vastly different systems of belief.  It is a melting pot of strong ideals and judgement and it is quickly becoming far less tolerant than it once was.

I happen to celebrate Christmas and in the process of that celebration I can be heard uttering two words that, although were once mainstream, are now, by some, thought to be completely offensive.  Merry Christmas.  Two words that contain the ideals of the child I once was and now hold dear the spirit of a celebration that I embrace.

I am not a vindictive person and, when I choose to utter those two words, I am not negating the fact that you may not celebrate this particular holiday.  I am choosing to share my love of the holiday season in my way.  I am attempting to insinuate my child-like joy into the moments of your day by choosing to wish you the best of the holiday season in a way that I learned through osmosis.  There used to be something exceptionally special about watching the joy spread by speaking those two words.  It was like watching a wave of true happiness spread from one person to the next.  Now, instead of riding that wave, it is more like treading lightly on the edge of the water ever mindful of sharp objects in the sand.

I have felt trapped at times, wondering if I should only articulate the two words that do not seem to easily offend, but “happy holidays” doesn’t encapsulate the true spirit I have at this time of the year.  Sure, it may be less offensive to some, but perhaps they don’t take the time to know the feeling behind the words.  By wishing you a Merry Christmas, I am merely saying that I want you to enjoy your way of celebrating as much as I enjoy mine and somehow inject some of my cheer into your day.

So let me throw caution to the wind and impart my holiday spirit to you on this Tuesday morning.  Merry Christmas to all and may the spirit of the holiday season, whatever your holiday may be, bring merriment to your smile and gladness to your heart.

(this is a blog post I wrote last year, but I felt it warranted being said again as we enter the festive season)

Tomorrow’s Outlines

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This is my first poetry duet with Hastywords and hopefully not my last.  She is truly a talented writer and beautiful person.  I’m sure you’ve already clicked follow on her blog, but if you haven’t you are missing out!

~

I found myself wandering aimless

between several different worlds,

in and out like a homeless ghost

my mind splitting, fracturing

and my perspective splintering

Lost in a cavern of realities

whispers of promise echoing

taunting, just out of reach

unsure of which path to choose

I float in a sea of uncertainty

bleeding colors

The colors of my past are bleeding

hiding lessons learned in a foggy gray

feelings and emotions are muddled

until I feel I may drown, breathless

inside all my lost yesterdays

The canvas of my life stares blankly

looking back at me with ambivalence

urging me to lift my head

beckoning me to not just tread water

but to thrive and embrace what lies beyond

Before despair takes me asunder

I focus only on paths ahead, determined

blurry lines begin to sharpen, harden

into black and white, new outlines

new paths, waiting to be colored in

~

(image credit: Stina Persson)

A worthwhile journey

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Today my brother, sister-in-law and I spent the better part of the afternoon moving the remaining pieces of furniture from my mom’s house into their winter storage spot.  The house will be going on the market shortly and we need to store the rest of her belongings while we get her opinion and decide what to do with them.

Emptying the trinkets from the larger hutches had me looking over my shoulder a few times for the TV crew from the show Hoarders, but it was only the three of us and the overwhelming presence of nostalgia.  As each set of glasses or bowls was uncovered I was transported back to my youth.  It amazes me that a glass dish contains the power to bend time.  So many memories are locked in the tiny particles that make up those dishes and just holding them in my hands brought those moments rushing back.

Subtle whispers from past holiday meals escaped from a simple gravy boat.  Recollections of chocolate pudding with a graham wafer crust and whipped cream were etched into a set of glass bowls.  Hidden photographs spoke volumes as they escaped their incarceration in an old shoe box.

Each flashback was just as special and having my brother there to share them was time that I will treasure. Having the afternoon to stroll down memory lane was worth fending off the below zero temperatures as we loaded the trailer several times to empty a house that used to be a home.  And even though I don’t have room in my house for any new dishes, those things may find their way into my cupboards so I can listen to those voices from the past a few more times.