F*ing Emo

I scream to you “I’m different!”
But how can you really tell?
Because this heart is deeper?
Beeline to the bottom of this well.

Is it that I feel so strong
Everything that I feel?
Does that make all my emotions
Any truer or much more real?

I flail around and make a mess
Invite you to the show
That’s what makes me different
And totally f*ing emo.


No, not Elmo. lol

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Poets

Poets are a greedy breed
Wanting payment for the words we bleed

Doesn’t have to be money though
Could be any form of honey slow

I am a cheap literary device
Lost in a fool’s paradise

It doesn’t take much to suffice
A few choice words would certainly be nice

Like and share and clap and tweet
Whistle and smile and snaps are sweet

I could live high on likes alone
Chew forever on those juicy bones

Slake my fervent fever thirst
Say my poem left you submersed

Just sitting there with your eyes glistening
With open heart, still and listening

Payment enough for this amateur litterateur
Litter my Press with delusions of grandeur

Walking in Darkness

For my friend, Laurey. Love you, Doll.


Night has come and we walk in dark
Because we have not made it home.
But in the black, hand in hand,
We do not go alone.

The light will come again.
We know that now for sure.
For lightless earth and dimming path
Love is the only cure.


Isaiah 9 ESV

But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish…but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea… The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.


Laurey lost her mom over Thanksgiving. Anytime is not a good time to lose your mom, but it was unexpected and on holiday break. If you would like to help, they have funeral costs. You can give here. Ellen Johnson Please do not feel obligated. I’m sharing to try and help.

manna

i prayed that God put in my mind those things that he wants me to write about and every morning, like manna, the words are waiting to find me or be found.

it is my job to gather. sometimes, i don’t have enough hours in the day or a basket big enough for his providence. my hands, fingers, pens, keys, screens, pages runneth over.

thoughts float down like sweet sticky buns from heaven. proficiency and abundance are divine.

Lonely

cardboard mountainThis is a Photoshopped image of water damage to cardboard. My daughter took the pic with my phone and I Photoshopped into a mountain with trees and clouds and mist. I made the clouds in PS using the paintbrush and smudge tool. It reminds me of the old-school, high-contrast Japanese ocean/wave paintings. So a haiku to go with moldy cardboard.


Katana in hand.
I sweep the land of all foes.
I, alone, mourn you.

Castles and Pie (mmmm)

Throwing castles and pie
Way up in the sky
And hoping

Throw that hat (Mary)
Everything but the cat (Berry)
And wait

Keep on hustlin’
Don’t stop jugglin’
And watch

Something’s gotta stick
Whip out your Bic
Keep writing!

Divine

Sweep across the swaying stalks
Windmill turns like a carousel horse
Thousands of black birds stream through the sky
On a cyclical solstice southern course

I’m waiting patiently for the very next second
As fairy-like wisps rise over my path
These balloons leave a smile on my teeth
I can taste sweet-smoky drops and drafts

Harbingers of potent memories
Bringers of light, luck, life and love
You’ll never pass this way again
But I remember your return from above