Tag Archives: beginnings

I am a beginning

I am no longer new and shiny,

The gloss has worn off from wear and tear,

I sink to the bottom of the deck,

To sit among the others who are not worthy.


Betrayal, Jealousy, Anger

A few emotions that are cancer to the heart,

A dark cloud that encompasses your soul,

Leading you to feel discarded in a hole.


It’s hard to shake a feeling so strong,

A loss of one’s worth is destructive,

Although, it can take a single good thought,

A prick of a needle to deflate the balloon.


It takes some remembering,

A jolt of electricity to kick start the mind,

To rescue the heart that is badly beaten,

Pull it up from beyond and nurse it slowly.


The end is as important as the beginning,

A person’s life sets off in directions by catalysts,

Beginnings of journeys can change a person’s life,

Webs interconnect from heart to heart.


I am a catalyst.

The first domino to fall,

I started a person’s major life journey,

My part is just now over.


Filed under Poetry

A New Kind of Drug

Epiphanies are rare,

but when they come

they are a rush

of fresh fall air.


Internally grateful,

it flows through my body,

relieving the knots

of worry and doubt.


A drug that I need daily,

a single thought,

the right thought,

the key to functionality.


How do I keep them flowing?

Keep my blood rushing?

How do I keep from looking down?

So, I can ride this for eternity.


Filed under Poetry

I’m here for now….

I float above the skies,

where I am untouchable.

I am finally somewhere

you have to look up to me.

You can’t escape my tears.

The more I need,

the bigger that they become,

so that you feel like drowning.

The pain comes in low rumbles,

clouding your sight of all light.

until only my image can appear,

a constant reminder.

The worst is yet to come.

When you can do nothing

but look until your eyes hurt,

flowers will grow in spite of

the wallowing bird songs.

A sign that I am all gone

except for the mark that

I finally made on your heart.


Filed under Poetry

I grew up in an old world.

I grew up in the old days

That only exists in stories

Of walks in icy cold tundra

Miles and miles to school.


Except my icy cold tundra was

The Sunshine State golden glow

With heat that soaks your skin

And rain that’s an afternoon feature.


I grew up on a long street

That wasn’t run by adults

No homeowners association

No debates about grass heights


Instead, five curious minds

Whose eyes saw everything

The gray house on the corner

To the giant flower magnolias.


They were the kings and queens.

The explorers, the architects

And the landscapers of their world.

They were the creators.


Roaming free, sun up to sun down.

No part left untouched

Only to stop to lay under the trees

To watch the sun play with the leaves.


Their world wasn’t crowded

With impossibilities and necessities

Their world survived on old magic

Eyes that imagine and believe


From the first peek out the window

Checking if life had opened its eyes

Sunlight dipping through the blinds

Showing them the escape from darkness


From season to season the stories changed

But the canvas grew up with them

Accommodating the stretches and pulls

Of where their laughs would take them.


Often times it led their world to stretch

So far into their dreams giving comfort

As their adventures came alive

In front of their eyes like a movie screen


Always questioning and pushing

The boundaries of what’s beyond

Reaching out with their hands

Easing the grip on their childhood.


I grew up on this street.

There is a girl with blonde curls

Peeking out from behind a tree

Eyes twinkle with a secret.


Filed under Poetry

Happy Writing Poets!

Threw this together for National Poetry Day. In its raw state but I think its appropriate. Happy Writing Poets!!

The first time

the feeling is alien

yet trusting

it stews for days

determining a plan

an attack

of feelings and truth

crawling up inside

fighting to be expressed

and then…

a simple act

a sharpened pencil

blank piece of paper

releases an abundance

of phrases so eloquent

a feeling of awe

strikes you so perfectly

it all comes together

all thats left is a


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Filed under Poetry


They started out sitting across from each other, but by the end of the hour they were sitting side by side. Giggling and enjoying each others company too much to notice the empty seats and deserted mugs of coffee around them. Her hands twitching nervously in her lap. His leg across his knee bouncing. The chemistry humming around them in an aurora that is invisible to only them. As it comes time for them to go their separate ways, they each keep avoiding the inevitable.

He makes a move to stretch his arm out behind her along the back of the leather booth. She unconsciously starts to tap her right foot as he moves closer to her side. Her body’s response to the excitement and nerves of what that move could mean.

Silences coming more often now.

They start analyzing everyone else in the cafe, a person’s shoes, what they are reading, a couple arguing in the corner. Every little thing to take the pressure off of them. Overlooking the perfect moment they are in. Two young hearts that have found a comrade for the first time. Hearts vibrating with the unmistakability of what is going to occur.

He smiles when she laughs, she blushes with a compliment.

She now moves to lean into his shoulder, he looks down and smiles as if they have sat that way forever.

She moves to sit up again but he keeps her there with his hand on her shoulder. She looks surprised but melts at his touch back into her spot. He reached and took her hand in her lap, turning it over and playing with her fingers. She watched for a moment before turning her head to his. As he leaned in and gave her a small kiss, their bodies were completely still.

People chatter. A child runs away from its mother. A girl is engrossed in the world that her novel is providing.

No one aware of the rare act taking place in front of them.

But me.

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Filed under free write, Poetry

Living Fear


What the human race is never short of.

Emotion that is consistent

Among races, ages and time.

What makes it thrive

Through so many lives?

Bodies riddled with

Fast paced hearts,

And Sweaty palms.

Automatically choosing to give into the feeling

That swallows us so easily.

Are we to believe that this has to be?

You only live once

Can only be if we truly see

What fear has to be to be free.

We preach about taking charge

And letting be.

But we can only be if we are not

Constantly fleeing.

But if fear is the way to a new beginning

Trusting that our fleeing can be deceiving

That it’s our unconscious way of leading

To the life we should be living.

Then maybe our fearing is relieving.

By: Honestlynne


Filed under Poetry