Tag Archives: poetry

Poetry

Look Through My Eyes

Life can be cruel, especially if you are in school and not a part of the popular crowd.

———————–

  What would you see if you looked through my eyes?

Would you know the deep sorrow I feel?

Pain, bitter loneliness. Soft whispered cries,

Accepted by none, a smile: my disguise.

 

They gossip. They laugh. Chat about the dance,

There’s no compassion or love in their souls.

To walk down that hall, to take that big chance,

Lower my head and my eyes, don’t dare even glance!

 

Their contempt is as clear as the words they now sneer.

I’m not worthy to breathe the same air.

Oh God, why me? Why must I be here?

Oh please, just one day, without bullies and fear.

 

What would I see if I looked through their eyes?

Would I see just how worthless I am?

They tell me I’m weird, someone they despise.

They posted on Facebook, “HaHa! Hope she DIES!”

 

What would you see if you looked through my eyes?

Could you find the compassion to care?

Would you stand by me as it comes from all sides?

Could you be my friend, not believe all the lies?

 

If only, if only, you could look through my eyes.

 

 

Poetry

Fireworks on the 4th of July

fireworksOh, the Fourth of July in the sultry Florida heat!

Passion, anticipation; a day to remember.

A chance to live, a means to escape the confines of polite society.

We laugh and splash in our secret spot.

 

Nothing cools the fire as temperatures rise,

melting away all reason, all inhibition.

The slick water turns skin to silk; we savor each caress.

The fire burns strong in his eyes and reflects back in mine.

 

Alone in Eden, a stolen moment to treasure!

Here we put aside the masks, the pretending,

the game we play with the world.

Nothing held back, no reason to hide our obsession.

 

He spreads the blanket on the ground

surrounded by a canopy of trees.

With Southern Comfort on ice

we explore, discover, entice; the shadows stretch and darken.

 

Oh, the fireworks on the Fourth of July!

Soaring, bursting, exploding! We’re overwhelmed! Amazed!

The bright flashes, the million patterned stars.

We fly as high and drift back to earth, entwined in a languid embrace.

 

No words are shared as we lie there

watching the sky burst with stunning lights where we just soared together.

Poetry

The Bottle

I turned to the cabinet that hot summer night

with every intention of drowning my sorrows
in the bottom of a tall, long-necked bottle.

I grabbed a goblet, filled it to the brim
and raised it to my mouth to savor that first sweet sip.

Heat lightning silently lit up the dark sky.
Cicadas loudly hummed their encouragement,
their sound easily penetrating the closed windows.

I closed my eyes and waited for relief, release,
or perhaps even forgiveness from a higher source.

But like a bottle-rocket on a soggy Fourth-of-July,
my infallible plan simply fizzled
as I savored the last taste at the bottom of my glass.

Refusing defeat,
I put the bottle to my lips
And raised it high for an enormous gulp of numbness.

Liquid heat burned a path down my throat
And spread throughout my body.
My gut wrenched in pain
My lungs sucked in warm humid air
and released it in a whoosh
only to inhale another moist breath.

Then another.

Tears rolled down my cheeks
as the lightning outside gave way to fat drops of rain.

The Sorrows, smug and giggling,
climbed out of the bottle
and with a gleeful shake,
leaped atop my shoulders once more.

I quivered in defeat.
as the sorrows roared in victory.

Oh it brought them such joy and such delight
For my Sorrows had won.

They had beaten the bottle that night.