“Why I Write”

putting pen to paper
fingers to keys
bares (bears) my heart and soul
to any who care to read
it purges the mental and emotional
garbage I’ve fed on
relieving that nauseated feeling in my brain
I write to find my path
through the maze of my own tangles
to illuminate reality
I write to pull myself out of pits
and ravines I’ve trod in my own psyche
building ladders and stairways
to a more balanced place

“Sweet Misery”

Why do we love?
Why open our hearts and souls to be stolen and shattered?
Would it not be safer to remain alone,
to construct strong walls
and hide within them
protected from Cupid’s arrows?
Why do we expose ourselves to the possibility of pain?
Allow our very spirit to be crushed
by the very thing we crave?
We know it will bring us such agony
and yet we hunger for it
seek it out
endlessly expose ourselves
to self-inflicted defeat.
Love is agony
and yet it is such sweet misery.

Written in response to Kerry’s Wednesday Challenge at With Real Toads’, asking us to explore existentialism.

“In Time and Space”

Photo is my own, taken at the Generalife gardens in Granada, Spain

Photo is my own, taken at the Generalife gardens in Granada, Spain

sit alone in the quiet dusk
a recipe for introspection
each tangled thought a link to the next

empty chairs scream dangerous words
walls become transparent
like chain-link fences forming invisible barriers
from the world outside
leaving the heart trapped
tangled in a net of its own creation

wounded souls need time and space
to heal and grow
need to flex and stretch beyond their bounds
to improve their range of emotion

Trying to get back in the habit of writing every day. I need it, to give my soul an outlet, as my moodiness lately can attest to.
This was written for this week’s wordle at Sunday Whirl. Click through, and go check out what others have written.

OneWord: separate

though you are there
and I am here
our hearts, our souls are not separate
we cannot be driven apart so easily
we cannot be outside one-another’s existence
you are my life, my breath
you are the smile on my lips
the warmth in my chest
between my thighs
you drive me to live
to become a better woman
to open myself and expose my soul

OneWord: sound

I long to know the sound of your voice when you say my name,
to hear your breath as you turn and see me standing there,
to feel the sudden speeding of your heart,
to know if it matches my own.
I long to feel the caress of your fingers as they take my hand,
to feel the warmth of your embrace protecting and sheltering me from any storm.

“Desert Calling”

in the desert stands a woman
a priestess
her bare feet rest in still-warm sand
her arms stretch above her head
her fingers reach to the dome of nightfall

in that blackness stars shine and glimmer
the moon a bare crescent
she speaks words of intent
a prayer, an incantation
a spell born of hunger
born of desperation
born of desire

in her heart there is devotion
in her soul there is openness
there is passion

her voice becomes a beacon
her words sing out across the sands
reaching through time
across unimaginable distances
calling her tribe to her