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Crystal Splendor

# 19750

Another adventure in free verse. Somewhat about love but mostly about the inner world of the human experience as lived by me.

I felt the wind upon my face
it glided down my cheek
into my soul
around my heart
and back again

It felt like
eternity and love
were friends of mine
an epiphany surreal
and magical
a blessid sort of
spectacle

I learned things
seldom known
seldom asked
and seldom told

my self, my life
my heart, my love
my truth, my emotions
my voice, my feelings

all known in crystal splendor
understood and comprehended
like memories of the mind
something tangible and discernible
something concrete and touchable

to love is to understand
and fear not
what eyes alone can't see
all our senses must be put to use
to love another
is to love ourself

I'd like to sing a song

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# 19600

Where is the delete button? Haha!

This post was edited by majic on Sep 05, 2011.

Self doubt is a....

94% | 3

# 19599

Where is the delete button? Haha!

This post was edited by majic on Sep 05, 2011.

The air up here seems so calm

# 19598

Where is the delete button? Haha!

This post was edited by majic on Sep 05, 2011.

Deviation In My Path

# 19553

A poem about our path in life. How different would life be if you could travel down a path that was not meant for you?

life is but a path
between another
and side by side
a place we can never know

look forward young man
never look back
take a step and learn from it
and gather self respect

unique am I
and equal likewise
and something different from myself
and somewhat of a mess

what if I
could take a path
meant for someone else
and walk down it
infinite
and trick it nonetheless

how different
would my life become
how different
would I be
how quickly could I forget
what yesterday
I used to be?

This post was edited by majic on Feb 05, 2004.

Urging To Write

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# 19526

A tangent in thought has led me down a road that goes something like this...

I sit here urging to write,
I sit here humble in my plight,
I think about the wind outside -
and of the freezy cold,
and the warmth of my mind,
't is humbling in it's mold.

I search a room inside my head,
for a special word to say,
for that sacred sentence -
to convey my thoughts,
and carry me away,

these rooms are empty -
it would seem,
with cobwebs strown around,
they give me the feeling -
that noone has listened -
to a bloody sound,
of the words in which I write,
of the thoughts I have tonight.