To reach… and reach again

A baby’s hand reaching out to be held…

A child reaching to catch fireflies.

A couple whom keep reaching to hold hands,

A poet reaching for the right words to write…

 

There is something beautiful about reaching,

Reaching beyond that which we have always known…

Whether reaching for a dream, a heart, a loved one, or passion,

Those whom are willing to reach are never alone.

 

So reach for the forgiveness within your heart

reach for the strength beyond that of any man

reach for the peace to love and risk broken trust,

reach beyond the depths, reach and reach again…

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Time’s magic act

There’s a potion of intermingled hopes and fears.

Time is a magic act, on its own.

It waves its cape and beckons for cheers,

leaving all the aces in sleeves unknown…

–

Faith is a coat rarely embraced and worn.

Because life here is kind to the weak,

and a suit that is faded and torn,

has no place at the table of Earth’s elite.

–

Hope is dwindling on fate’s candlestick.

The future always seems eminent.

So precious and powerful, with such a thin wick,

few step into the storm to shield the wind…

…but we must keep hope lit…

–

For ages and generations of grown wise and passed on,

the world to a new age and generation of fools whom all believe,

they are the greatest, the wisest, and they shall make new laws,

that make this place better than those before could have conceived.

–

And open minds still need a filter,

and open hearts still need guards,

open dreams, still need solid timber

for we all still live under the stars.

–

Be cautious, be prudent, be patient, be wise.

Trust those before, for the’ve glimpsed more in their short times.

Be humble, be honest, be rational, be kind.

Be loving, be faithful, be hopeful, be alive.

–

The magic act has begun

perhaps, it is already halfway through.

You don’t have to stay and watch the show…

you’re allowed to get up, and explore the room.

–

The potion has already been mixed in your wine,

and you shall both suffer and rejoice with time.

And love is bitter, love is sacrifice, but love is divine.

And it’s the only thing that lasts longer than life.

 

my problem with FB stalking a potential. (keeping it real)

i used to calculate everything. maybe i still do. but i fight it.

i used to analyze guys as if they were nothing more than data entries on an excel spreadsheet. Once, I actually made an excel spreadsheet of my potential love interests. with everything from a rating of current salary, to potential salary in chosen careers, to genetics such as disease in family, to a rating of athleticism.

The idea of choosing someone because i just wanted to be with them, was as distant as the sun is from view in the middle of the night to a luna moth. All I wanted was beautiful children, a beautiful family, a guy to show off, and to impress everyone. A twisted dream, I’ve come to realize. Love is love… not a pageant contest.

I was overjoyed at first, when facebook became a thing. This really helped me calculate the possibilities with even more ease. Everything from level of education, to extended family, and even high school social status could usually be deduced before I even got to know the person…

but this is just the problem.
Because it actually forms prejudices…

stick with me here…
Before we learn things through interactions with them, we’ve already decided they are ‘cool’ or ‘not cool’. We already have decided if they are smart, connected, respected, quirky, or even a potential candidate, really. We judge them before we know them.

To some degree, we can’t fight this. humans are rational creatures, and will always try to analyze the data given, and are curious enough to always want more data.

But i highly encourage anyone who is just beginning to date someone, NOT TO “STALK” that person on facebook or twitter, and what not.

get to know the person. find out if they make you laugh with their wit and humour, or if they intrigue you with intelligent conversations, if they can inspire awe in their desires, or endeavors. See if they inspire creativity and optimism. WHether they free your inner spirit to fly, or whether you are always nervous and feel like you have to change who you are with them. Get to know them. Look behind the eyes, and decide for yourself how old their soul is. Let them introduce you to their siblings when they want to. And let it be an introduction.

Find out if they impress you with what they’ve done with their life. And more than anything… you have to be with someone to know their character… their values, their morals, their person.

Skype can’t tell. Facebook can’t tell you. Texting can’t tell you, Twitter can’t tell you, in fact nothing on the internet tell you who someone is. And buying into whatever it says (even if the person hand crafted everything on their page), will just slow down the process of getting to know someone. It won’t speed it up.

It’s not skipping a step. It’s getting to know a person who doesn’t exists. We are so much more than our facebook pages.

Go meet people, and get to know their person, in person. Keep it real.

 

tragedy of the norm

took my hope and took my heart
took my dreams and lit a spark,
should’ve known fire burns
and that a burn leaves a scar…

got no tragedy to mourn
was only a victim to the norm,
undervalued what we had
and thought it not worth fighting for…

but some times the fire stays
and sometimes it don’t even fade
and when the winds blow in your face,
sometimes, it just strengthens the flame.

So i left, and you moved on…
like every one-who-got-away song…
should of listened to the radio
before i made the same wrong…

took my hope and took my heart
took my dreams and lit a spark,
should’ve known fire burns
and that a burn leaves a scar…

i know you are only human
i remember you as a friend
as the one who taught me to love,
and since whom i haven’t loved again…

 

none of them are you

Always going to be one hotter
always going to be one richer too
always going to be one sweeter, or meaner
or who does more of something I do,

Always going to be that person who is funnier
maybe he can steal the spotlight of the room,
but it doesn’t really matter any more,
because i’d always rather just be with you…

this really just fet too easy
because after all the hard times i’ve been through
this is the first time i’ve ever
just looked at someone, and already knew.

 

my drought and storm….

I built myself a solid shelter from the storm…
with rusty nails the builders had once spurred.
I felt no need, in design, to conform.
so i nested it in a tree, where i could feel as a bird…

but in life, it’s usually flood or drought,
and the wisdom of elders is often drowned out,
by the firework’s boom, and the flashing lights,
and those in the trees, lose the power of lime lights…

I told myself, others would build nearby soon…
but the lights afar, were the only ones that grew,
i know that I’m the one who looks lost in a dream,
but I’m just not like them, and I’m sick of trying to be.

I”m tired of calling out, waving others to come in.
for they all promised to join, but then went away again.
and perhaps, alone, and afar, is where Im meant to be,
though, the view is now watching everyone else become happy.

call me stubborn, call me extreme,
but i won’t leave paradise just to find company…
though without someone, what is paradise for?
and so both my storm and drought begin once more…

how much is paradise really worth?
and ought i maybe consider to conform?
for the sun encircles their world and mine,
and the only similarity, is the passing time…

 

as confident as my wrinkles.

getting wrinkles is probably one of the
greatest horrors of every young woman.
Or that realization that she no longer is
really that young of a woman.

you look back at photos, and realize
that you didn’t even know you were beautiful then.
nobody told you. they all just teased you
assuming you were so secure you already knew…

nobody told me i was wasting my youth
nobody told me how short it was going to be
everybody told me that i’d have plenty of time
and everybody told me just to take my time…

and i did. and now i have wrinkles.
wrinkles that don’t go away when i stop laughing.
wrinkles that dig deeper into my skin and confidence every day
wrinkles that force me to grow up.

maybe it’s a good thing, you know?
maybe they force us out of that relying on looks phase.
and it’s true im still more beautiful than i’ll ever be again
but gosh. when you find those old pictures… i hate to admit im that shallow, but

…it hurts. i don’t want wrinkles. i don’t want to grow up.

they force me to realize im getting older
and that i need to decide what to do with my life.
and then i look in the mirror again,
and i still haven’t done enough to justify my age.

i fear i shall never be as grown up,
as mature, nor nearly confident as my wrinkles are.
they told me to travel the world while i was young
and then i woke up, and i wasn’t young anymore.

all the great guys were married,
all the hot guys were losing their hair
and all the great and good looking men, i realized
were never perfect to start with, they had a girl who brought it out…

and id missed my chance a million times.

 

to love a broken heart

years ago i fell in love with a broken heart
bleeding glass shattered on concrete…
i was only a young, naive, and a hopeful fool,
yet was convinced that i knew everything…

I grew to adore every sharp and brittle part
but felt a new gash with every hug i held him dear…
thought i could heal him and the pain would go away with time,
but eventually the shards tore through my chest into my heart…

and now, you’re trying to love a broken heart
oh how it’s edges glitter in the sun you shine,
don’t be a romeo, just whistle while you go,
do us both a favor, and give me some time alone…

 

in love with the chaos

rolling myself from town to town
keeping a secret eye open for a place to settle down…
with plans to travel the whole world round,
but hopes someone will love me into turning home bound

after enough oceans, mountains, waterfalls, and hills
they all start looking the same from a plane looking below
and to be perfectly honest, it’s no longer the destinations-
im in love with looking down, im in love with being on the go…

im in love with the whirlwind crazy adventures,
the frustrations, the chaos, the curious and strange sights,
Some people love their coffee and newspaper routines,
but i’m in love with buses, trains, boats, and plane flights…

if someone could dig the lust for adventure out of my soul,
then perhaps my life would for once, appear under control,
im a lover of the chaos, who nests within hearts…
so take me, or leave me, or join my journey of fools

 

until you say goodbye to me

I never meant to leave you behind
I don’t know what I thought I would find
I guess i thought you might follow behind
And always believed we get back together with time

When you moved on, I really did try.
I tried with men, I tried with wine,
I tried with travels, and I tried with time…
But I still can’t get you out of my mind…

I guess you’re happy and have moved on
This time I won’t lie, I wish it were me.
but since this is what you want, all I ask,
and all I beg that you give in parting,

is show up for one last night to dance
please let’s talk, so I can realize we’re too different,
and I’ve already thrown away my pride so grant me this one thing,
please show up, so that you can say good bye to me.

I finally realized you’re the heart I can’t let go
So I need you to be the one to leave me alone.
Because I can’t move on, Until I see,
until I see you say goodbye to me.