Faith

Time passes

Moving

faster and faster

Growing

shorter and shorter

Gripping

stronger and stronger.

 

As the tentacles

of Time

tightly tie themselves around me,

the Octave of Death climbs

higher

and

higher.

 

The inevitable Death lurks

closer and closer,

And I am not safe,

But you don’t have to feel safe

to feel Unafraid.

 

 

The Stages of Heartbreak

The following poem is quite a bit different from the poems I usually write.  It is composed of a series of nine different segments (nine stages of heartbreak).  I actually wrote this quite a while back, but I took a long time editing the piece and, to be honest, finally got the courage to put it out on the web.  This poem is a very personal poem for me, probably the most personal one I've written before.  Like most of my poems, it was inspired by my own experience, but unlike most of my other poems, this one is based on a deeply painful emotional experience.  I tend to keep my emotions to myself, bottled up inside, because I have a difficult time expressing myself verbally, and I'm afraid of exposing my weakness to others.  Writing has always been my way of dealing with and expressing these emotions.  Creating this piece was quite therapeutic for me.  It helped me sort through my emotions, and shortly after this piece was written, I was proven right about there being hope because I indeed found "my prince."  We have been together about four months now, and I've never been happier.  So, if you ever feel like there's no hope and your heart is broken, remember that you are so beautiful and realize that there is someone out there who will truly love you and truly treat you right. 

"Every girl has a Prince Charming... yours just took a wrong turn, got lost, and is too stubborn to ask for directions." --Adam Young (Owl City)

 

 

The Stages of Heartbreak

 

1.       Realization. 

 

A chill of comprehension

begins to course through my body.

A sick feeling that seeps

from my throat

into my chest

and

twists

my

stomach

into

knots.

 

2.       Shock. 

 

Like a flash of lightning or the shot of a gun.

It happens so fast,

so sudden. 

I finally see the light, and it blinds me, so that

I can’t think.

I can’t speak.

I can’t move.

I can’t breathe.

 

3.       Numb.

 

It’s as if I’ve been given a shot of Novicaine. 

I feel nothing.

Trapped. 

I’m trapped inside this oblivion. 

I speak and I hear,

but my words don’t belong to me,

and all that I hear is so far away,

Incomprehensible echoes.

 

 

4.       Pain. 

The numbness ebbs away.

An earthquake quivers through my body. 

An explosion of emotion causes me to slowly shatter

before your very eyes.

 

Regardless of my endeavors to conceal it,

I wildly flinging my emotions,

the shattered pieces of my heart,

on display for you to see:

confusion,

denial,

passion,

sorrow,

anger,

hurt; so much hurt. 

 

Punched in the chest.

Ran over by a truck.

Shot in the back. 

The only way to deal with the pain is to cry,

clinging to you as tightly as I can. 

 

It’s painful knowing this is the last time I will hold you,

but it’s better than the emptiness that will come again when you leave. 

Can’t let you go.

Can’t let myself forget. 

5.       Shame.

 

I don’t want to let go.

I don’t want to forget.

I know I need to. 

I’ve humiliated myself. 

This isn’t healthy. 

 

With deep racking breaths,

I force my tears to stop. 

I can’t let you see me this way. 

I need to be strong. 

I release you from the vice grip of my arms. 

You make a joke, try to ease my pain. 

Wild bloodshot eyes,

a trembling smile,

I hover on the brink of disaster.

 

6.       Losing it. 

 

“We’ll always be friends.” 

“I’ll always be there for you.” 

“I’ll always love you.” 

“It’s for the best.” 

“You deserve better.” 

 

I never knew how painful words could truly be until the moment

these words are said to me  

Because I know what they are leading up to:   

“Goodbye.”

 

How can one word be so painful,

 so hard to hear,

without shattering once more? 

You say it.

  I respond,

a whisper being all I can manage. 

The door closes behind you. 

Never has a sound made me lonelier than it does now. 

Never.

The sound of it slices through me like a knife,

My heart is officially broken. 

I scramble, picking up

the pieces.

 It’s no use.

I’ll never be able to put them back together again. 

 

Watching you drive away,

the earthquake starts all over again. 

I fall to the floor,

a flightless bird.

7.       Internal bleeding. 

 

(((I try to remove you from my mind.

I need to move on.

I can’t let the world see my hurt.

I keep it bottled inside where no one can see,

denying that it’s there at all.

Fake smiles,

pretending everything’s alright.

Inside I’m bleeding from the internal war

among my memories

 and my mind.)))

 

  

8.       Coldness. 

 

Trying to keep the memories away,

they still return. 

They make me warm for a few moments.

When I realize that “memories” are all they really are,

I’m left feeling empty.

Bitterly cold. 

I’m constantly cold.

I can’t get warm. 

 

I’m just so sick of being alone. 

I wish you were with me, holding me tight,

taking away this bitter chill that racks my body and rattles my teeth. 

You don’t truly realize what you’ve got until it’s gone. 

I feel so empty without you.

Life goes on.

It must go on. 

  

9.       Rebirth. 

 

The pain will never completely disappear.

 I have learned to deal with it and learn from it. 

Life is beautiful. 

I am beautiful. 

 

My prince is out there.

 I won’t stop until I’ve found him.   

Like a phoenix,

I rise from the ashes. 

It’s time to live. 

It’s time to begin again.

 

 

 

 

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

The wondrous wind woefully wails,

and a rumbling radiates the air into reverberation.

Lightning lividly lights up the sky

like legions of lightning bugs.

 

Now the clouds cluster: masses of gray that burst at the seams

into rain that rapidly races

 down

in

sheets of

gray.

 

Standing in the middle of the storm,

the thunder resonates through my body,

the wind whips my hair like waves across my face,

and the icy rain slices across my skin,

soaking my clothes and sending chills down my spine,

chills of frigidity, fright, and fascination.

 

I am mesmerized by this melee,

the madness and majesty of Mother Nature:

how something so dark and dangerous can still be

so beautiful.

 

Reflections on Life

Greetings, friend.  I may have neither eyes to see nor feet to move, but I have come to know and see many things.  Our kind doesn’t need eyes to see or feet to move in order to know and see the world around us.  We simply feel the world; we are one with nature.  I would be very pleased if you would come and listen to me speak, for I have much to tell and little time to tell it in; I feel that the end of my life is drawing very near. 

Earth, the place I call home, is a place filled with both wonder and woe.  In my 100 years, I have seen many changes, both good and bad.  The change of the seasons, alterations in species and populations, and the miracle of new life occur every day.  These are causes for wonder, and my soul sings to experience these wonderful events, but there are also terrible changes.  These changes are brought forth by creatures called humans. 

Like humans, all animals are able to think and perceive all kinds of amazing things, but unlike the other creatures, humans regrettably use this power of perception to do terrible things quite often.  They have a terrible need for control over one another and a need for possessions; greed is their downfall.  I have seen wars, pollution, cutting down of my fellow companions, murdering of helpless creatures (even of their own kind), and countless other evil deeds.  I can only sit helplessly and watch these terrible events unfold around me.  I try to communicate with the humans, urging them to change their ways, but all they make of my communication is a series of creaks and moans.  It is terribly frustrating.  All I can do is pray that the next generation of humans will learn from its mistakes.  This sometimes happens, but the greed never truly goes away.  As I near the end of my life, I think I have discovered why this greed exists; humans seem to keep this greed to cover-up their fear, their fear of the unknown.  Humans live forever wondering what the meaning of life is, when it really is right there in front of them. 

Having lived for so long, in constant observance of the world around me, without possessing corruption and greed as the many humans I have come to know to possess, the meaning of life becomes clear.  If you don’t already know the meaning of life, then it would be almost impossible for me to tell you, but the best way I know how to explain it is this: the meaning of life is in the very word itself: “life.”  The meaning of life is “life.”  What makes this definition tricky is that “life” is different for every individual creature, but this is also what makes the definition so beautiful and marvelous.  Life is startlingly unique and complex, an intricate snowflake; no two lives are the same.  So, as my death comes nearer and nearer, I do not face it with fear.  Death is only the next stage of life.  Therefore, I shall greet it with open branches. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bittersweet

Sitting on a shelf, cozied up with my family under a fluorescent glow of lights, I thought to myself This is the life.  Sure, it was a bit crowded in the little box we lived in, which we shared with two other families (making fifteen of us in all), but we never had to worry about any of our family or friends leaving us.  We stuck together, literally.  If you’re confused right now, don’t worry.  It will all become clear soon enough.  I hope my story will help you to make a change in your…er…diet.

Most of the time, my life is sweet and care-free, but there always is the fear lurking beneath the veneer of happiness…the fear of being bought.  This fear especially rises to the surface in the spring.  Usually when one thinks of spring, he or she thinks of life and renewal, but for me spring means one thing only: Easter. 

Easter is a time of death.  The best two hopes that my kind can have in this time of death are that they won’t be bought, or they are bought and hidden in an Easter egg hunt and never found.  These two scenarios rarely happen, but they are the major two hopes that we cling to. 

The only other hope we can have is that the person who buys our package will forget about us and let us go stale, thereby sparing our lives (since humans don’t like us to be stale).  True, life after this can be a bit uncomfortable, being perpetually stiff and living a life among trash, but it’s much better than being subjected to the cruel and unusual torture that humans dish out.  I shudder just thinking about some of the things humans do to my poor, defenseless kind, especially knowing that my story contains some of these tortures.

So, one particularly bright and beautiful spring day not too long ago, my brother, my sister, my friends, and I were having a fun time making faces at and scaring the human children.  This trick didn’t work with adults because they never looked closely enough at us to notice our expressions…or maybe they did notice but would never admit that they’d seen it happen.  Well, this spring day, for the first time ever, a pair of adults did notice our faces, but this backfired on us: instead of scaring them, we amused them. 

“Ooo, look at that soft, sugary goodness!” the young woman said, her blue eyes dancing with glee and desire.  As I looked into her enormous eyes, I could see a purple sparkle reflected back at me.  “They look so delicious.  We should get some.”

The young man next to her grinned in amusement and squeezed her hand.  “Let’s pick some out then.”

“Hmmm…I don’t know.  There are so many choices…” the woman said, biting her finger in serious contemplation.

The man laughed, amused by her solemnity.  “Choose wisely, Ella.  It’s a very serious decision.”

“Oh, I know, Michael,” Ella said playfully.  “So I’m going to go with…that package right there.”

My heart sank.  Please don’t pick us, please don’t pick us…  But, alas, they had picked us.  All we could do now was accept our fate and hope for the best, but with the looks of this evil couple, we were sure to be doomed.

Fast-forward to Easter Sunday.  The couple had recently returned from church, had finished feasting on their Easter ham dinner, and were now preparing for dessert.  You’d think that on such a holy day as Easter, and especially after just getting back from church, that these people would show us mercy but no.  Dessert was to be served, on us.  Literally. 

“That was a delicious meal, dear,” said Michael.

“Thank you, honey.  I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Ella said.

“Now it’s my turn…to provide the dessert!” he said.

Sitting on the counter we shivered in our box, terrified.  We were not only going to be eaten, we were going to endure one of the worst forms of torture: the microwave.  As Michael approached us and ripped open our packaging, we said our prayers and goodbyes and held onto each other until the very last moment, when we were torn from one another’s side and popped on a plate. 

“Are you ready?” Michael asked.

“Yep!” Ella chirped, bounding over to the microwave.  “Let’s explode ’em!”

As Michael placed us in the microwave, and the horrendous finality of the door’s slam closed around us, I wept for not only myself but also for the terrible cruelty of the human race.  But when the microwave turned on, and we began to heat up and expand, even through the pain and suffering I felt an odd peace.  I knew this wasn’t goodbye forever.  I believed we’d see each other in Heaven, and I was right.  So, as we bloated and melded into one mass of sticky marshmallow goo and were shoveled into the hungry humans’ mouths, our bodies may have been consumed, but our souls lived on.

My life on Earth as a Peep had tragically ended, but my life in Peep heaven had just begun.  I hope my story has inspired you, human, to be a little more courteous of my “peep”-le, preferably steer clear from Peeps at all costs.  How about a chocolate bunny instead?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Definition of LOVE

This poem was inspired by a poetry exercise I found online.  The poet is supposed to make a poem using only the words from a dictionary definition of a chosen word. My chosen word was "love." I tweaked this exercise a bit and allowed for some extra words besides just the ones used in the definition (The words from the definition are in red). Hope you enjoy! :)

The Definition of LOVE

 

My Darling, My Beloved,

I adore you.

 

This warm attraction fills me with an unselfish desire

to always be there for you.

Always I will be loyal. 

My devotion is complete.

You may be filled with sweet assurance

that I will always hold you

in admiration and tenderness.

 

Rest assured that no one else feels for you the way I do.

What I mean to say is,

I LOVE you.

 

 

Different but the Same

 

 

We live in a world of contraries:

Pleasure and pain, happiness and sadness, good and evil.

But things aren’t different because they’re not the same…

They are different because we make them so.

Everything is dependent on our emotions, perspective.

You choose how to see the world.

 

We turn the kaleidoscope wheel:

Pain becomes pleasure.

Sadness becomes happiness.

Evil becomes good.

Are you seeing the world in a whole different way?

Or is it really still the same?