meaningful poems

Punishing

Paint me a picture of how
Things were before all joy
Drained out of your psyche,
Replaced by continuous calcification.
Tell me about the times
You acted out of courage
Rather than cowering behind
Dogma and resignation.
Buoy my spirit with your jaunty
Tales of adventure and discovery.
Lets take a break from ad nauseum
Enumerations of broken dreams and
Shattered expectations.
Take my hand in yours and tell me
The world isn’t punishing.

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Not Her Audience

On a balmy summer afternoon
She sits tending her booth,
Her lovely paintings on display.

A few people walk by and
Half-smile on their way
To somewhere else.

Others comment or
Ask questions, making
Polite small talk.

Occasionally, someone
Seems genuinely interested
In one of her works.

At the end of the day,
She realizes that this
Was not her audience.

I Used to Be Someone Else

I remember when I
Used to be someone else,
When I would do anything
Just to get along,
Stifle my voice so others
Could trample on me,
Pretend I was less smart
Than I really was,
Impersonate someone who
Was less capable than them,
Stroke their egos so they
Could feel stronger,
Let them tell me what
Was best for me or how
Things should be done.

You Next to Me

We walk down to the water,
Pails and shovels in hand,
Soft shuffling of expectant steps.
Kneeling in magical pools
Nestled in rocks lined with sand.
Warm breeze comforting,
Sun infusing us with contentment,
Gentle waves lapping.
You next to me, commenting on
The little creatures in their dainty
Homes, a secret world of
Shimmering, rippling light.
We talk about nothing in particular
And everything.

Escape

It begins to
Come into focus.

The incessant quest
For acceptance.

The need to be
Part of the in group.

The endless judgments
And expectations.

The need to
Cater to others.

The sacrifice
Of self.

The urge to
Escape from it.

Nonetheless

Having been what
Other people call shy
For most of her life,
Thoughtfully observing
The world without the
Hindrance of an
Endlessly spewing mouth,
She sees things that
Others don’t and
Takes it upon herself
To be the chronicler
Of the unnoticed,
The people and occurrences
Existing in quiet obscurity,
Deserving attention
Nonetheless.

Special

Not the same
As it once was,
I hold on desperately
To what made it so
Special, a memory of
How it used to be,
Clashing with
Present reality.

If Only I

If only I on outstretched wings might
Spy that which I once failed to heed.
Onward, upward, soaring, squinting,
Hoping to gaze upon that which might
Have been but for undiscerning eye.
If only I had waited one minute longer
I might have met you or mingled lives
With destiny well-acquainted.
We might have been close had we
Paused for a moment.
If only I had done that which I dreamed
I would have found my path to solace, calm,
Invincibility, fulfillment’s caress with joy.
Dance, shout, sing, act, exalt, dream
As one with unhindered jubilance.
If only a moment I had grasped as my own
To reflect on places arrived and unconsidered.
Dreams neglected, spine protected, wounds
Infected. Wake today with unclouded will and
Take flight on wings ideal, unbound.

Tumult

Unsettled, unknown, unbearable,
Incessantly guided by a hand
Reveling in our misfortune and
Denying the hope we once embraced,
Rug pulled out from beneath,
Dreams wrenched from exhausted spirit,
Hope doused by unending calamity.
Sunrise, sunshine, sun warms the land.
Memory of movement and possibility stirs
Slumbering aspirations.
Wake and gather courage for this day.