multiple open windows
A closed door
sky scrappers built from the bottom
health is the best price
when illness is ravaging
thankful for life
but only when you die a little
appreciate the light when in darkness
understand darkness can be light
yearn for a past gone for too long
and miss out on the present and future
what is it a loss?
if it was not meant to be?
sometimes endings are beginnings
multiple open windows
guide you to the open door
waiting just for you
Give a seed water, a plant blooms
Give a child love, a heart soothes
Give a kind touch, a person heals
Give understanding, someone feels seen
No words necessary
Emotional erosion
Of unhealed wounds & pain
Turned into abundant love
Not a word was said
What is regression?
can be progression
shocking impression
perhaps realization
self retaliation
searching obsession
future creation
in the past we see the future
patterns, words, sentences, verse
in the present we learn from the past
analyze, memorize, intellectualize
regression turns to
progressions
when we learn
from our regressions
today is here
yesterday is gone
tomorrow is to come
stressing about yesterday
ruins your today
and creates your tomorrow
blessed be
and live your present
to create your future
direction
A thought in a drop
that turns into water
that flows like a stream
turns into a river
sometimes a pond
or a vast ocean
the trickle
a drop in a thought
The power of a thought
What is a flower
start from a bud
from a tiny little seed
that grows when you feed
no need for greed
a simple flower flourished
cared, watered, nourished
the pedals feathered
multicolored weathered
storms, rains, winds, and hail
the tiny plant prevail
from a seed, bud, plant, flower
photosynthesis bloom
Debths are levels
Levels can be devils
Devils might be rebels
Perhaps Angels
Observers
Permeating thoughts
Developing Plots
Story Line, Paragraph, Block
Cloudy Thoughts
Birthed lead to Clearance
Cathartic Spaces
Divine Places
Rooms in Chaos
Transcend to Melodies, Rhyme, and Flow
The Hands of a writer wrote
The Minds of the author grow
Words of Arte
We wait until Sunday to look fancy
We wait for our birthdays to celebrate life
We delay gratification
for the perfect destination
We don’t take a risk
for the sake of not being brisk
We don’t say I love you
out of fear of rejection
If today was your last day
would you still wait for the next?
Happy Easter
We may not get a 3rd day to rise
but we get every day to live fully
Resurrection
Mourning Words
Sadness, depression, obsessions
Sedation, regression, never liberation
Words Can Oppress
The Spirit Impress
Into an empty address
Some people mourn daily
Not realizing, In the blink of an eye
In the breath of inspiration
With purposeful exhalation
Permeation through flesh
In the depths of a word
Submerged Mourning Words
If altered and suffocated
Transformed into Morning Words
Daily Dose
I waited for Spring
To turn into summer
For Summer to Fall
For Fall to Winter
I waited for Winter to Turn into Spring
The Cycle of Waiting
Waiting, Waiting, Waiting
Always Waiting for The Next
Near Perfect Conditions
Filled With Idle, Uncertain, Decisions
I Don’t Wait
Now, I Do
Escritora. Tejedora de Historias. Tlahuelpuchi. Promotora Artesanal
where all emotions are cared for!
El sitio donde encontraras recetas para ayudarte en el "Maratón de la Dieta Vegetariana Cruda"
research education, academic writing, public engagement, funding, other eccentricities.
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!
Science&Tech, Sociology, Education&Society, Biology, Human Capital, HR, HPT & Management, Neuro&Psychology All-in-One
READER - WRITER - CURATED RESOURCES - & MORE
Krakatoa Forever My Friend
"kindness is healing, writer & poet of sorts, "
Words of Arte
Come for storytime (stay for pics)
Solutions for ANY Parent - Welcome!
All is not quiet in the countryside
Poetry, music, creative writing and a desire to inspire....Isaiah 45:2-7 I will go before you and will level the mountains[a]; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. 3 I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord
Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller
"And if one day you see the stars disappearing, know only that my heart was amongst them." - My original poem.
what if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra?
Blogging about a world worth loving
The Grind 