a fear in me, a fear in you, a fear i don't know if i can face

A hidden face
A mysterious place
I'm not sure I like this

A fear that bubbles to the top
An uncertainty I have entertained before
Will it change?
Will it grow?

Oh no.....
I can not take it back
I have to keep my word
oh no.....
I don't want to be rude
But really I don't know.

national poetry month

It's poetry month. In celebration (because I am seriously excited!) I will be trying very hard to post a new poem on my blog each day, maybe even more than one a day depending on how many I find that I love. And maybe I will even include some of my own. You'll notice the difference, mine will be the ones that suck.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poetrytool.html This site is awesome.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -


And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -


I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

This didn't really help the feeling

BREATHE
sigh
sing
BREATHE
sigh
shout
BREATHE
deep
let
it
out
BREATHE
in
and
out
BREATHE
sigh
it's
alright
BREATHE
sigh
let
it
go
BREATHE
sigh
don't
cry

It's all about the timing......

It's all about the timing. Things don't line up as you wish they would. Maybe it's the world trying to stop my desperation. I understand that and actually commend it. Thank you world, for telling me to stop it. It makes sense. Completely it does. But I can't help but wonder. What if the timing lined up perfectly? Would a change occur? Would something new start? Or is it better that the timing just refuses to line up right. I realize now it is partly my fault. I misjudged. I got it wrong. But only slightly. Wouldn't it still line up? I guess it's not meant to be. Oh well, what can you do. Now, if I could just stop thinking about it.

Coincidences may just be Coincidences.....

Yesterday I started writing just to write. I was going to elborate on a story I had started but it didn't feel right. So I start on this new work. I wrote whatever came to mind. As I was writing it gradually started to take on more of my memories of my mom's illness. The things I felt, the things I thought she felt, the time, the sadness. This caused me to remember the pain of everyone involved. It hurt. It made me sad. It made me angry.
Anyway, I was thinking about her again today. Rehashing some feelings, comtemplating how things could/would have been different. I was just thiking of my mother.
I went into this store that has a collection of random things. It's where I got my camera and typewriter from. I was drving past and thinking about going in. I have homework to do and so I debated with myself. Should I go see if I find anything I want in the store? Or should I be responsible and go home and do my homework?
I made a U-turn at the light and went to the store. I went first to the camera section because I want a Brownie camera. I looked around at the small wooden boxes because I love them for some odd reason. Then I made me way to the mountains of records. I stopped by this area with mirrors and chairs first. There on the table I saw the same mirror that my mother had bought my sister and I for Christmas a long, long time ago. I stopped and looked at it. It isn't an expensive or old mirror. It shouldn't really be in a store about "collectibles". I obviously thought of my mom. I drove home and pulled into the driveway. And a single bird flew from my house as I parked. I'm sure only the people close to my family know what that means to us. I didn't even really see it happend at the time I am referring to but it still means something. I go unlcok my front door and there's a flier for a church or something religious. I am not a religious person so I will leave that as a coincidence to inspire me to keep believing in what I believe. I believe sometimes coincidences are a way to remind us that feeling is okay but dwelling is not. It take it as a reminder of the love from my mother and other things I won't go into.
I should actually do my homework now.

Different

I just can't understand people. How can you be exactly what you hate? How can you openly say things but still pursue? I don't understand you. Really. It kind of makes me angry. I don't understand if you have always been this way or if this a new thing from that happend of the years. You used to care. You used to be strong. Now you seem to fall for anything and attempt to make people fall for anything. I don't understand.

Lois Duncan

Lois Duncan is an author grew up here in Florida. She is an incredibly talented storyteller. She particularly writes young adult novels but she has also published a few adult works as well. I grew up reading her books and continue to love them now. They are creative, intense stories. Many of them have a supernatural theme to them. I just felt the need to praise her work. Awesome Lois Duncan! Thank you for writing books that inspired me. You can click the title of this blog to be taken to her website.