Posts Tagged: Poetry

Out of Focus {In Focus}

Out of Focus In Focus

sometimes you just have to put your thoughts down
without punctuation
without spell check
without grammar policing
for me it’s easier to hear my thoughts when i’m listening to tunes
i just wish it was dark, and that i had some wine
or smoke
then maybe i could put down even more unadulterated thoughts
like the ones where i say i want to splash color on my walls
burnt reds and yellows and blues
thoughts like i want music to play all day
while i dance barefoot
breasts swinging free without the prison that is a bra
thoughts about new sneakers
that have been often thought about
finally on my feet
that feel so perfect and right
thoughts like i want massive shelves
put together to house books about mushrooms, planes, yoga, and trains
thoughts about a photo mosaic wall
made up of a million different picture frames
some bought at the flea market
others bought at the goodwill
and none bought at the conglomerate down the street
and just then i close my eyes and dream about a room that is my own
tiffany blue with a yellow chandelier
an easel and paint and a chair covered in crushed red velvet
with a basket of fruit in the center of the scratched and painted on tabletop
the kind of fruit that begs you to take a bite
no napkins
just fleshy fruit that when bitten drips down your fingers
and chin
just then out of the window the sun glows low through the trees
with a beckoning warmth
that makes you forget that your fingers are sticky
that your face is refreshingly dirty with the juice of the earth
these are the thoughts that are dancing in my head
they are out of focus
in focus

Our Eyes

with our eyes almost fully grown at birth
there is amazement
at the growth truly possible
the things we see
through wide eyes open
through wide eyes shut
through questioning eyes
when we look to find
we see
when we do not look
we still see
while vision
may be impaired
we continue to see
and, I believe
our eyes
allow us to grow
until the day
we close them forever

Of your voice…

Both of the windows are down
Allowing my hair to be windblown
It is then the fantasies swirl with my locks

* * *

Thoughts of a time
When cigarettes
parted lips
worry free
without question
A time
when laughter
the open window
to come back

* * *

The radio blares
as a familiar song comes on
My eyes are fixed
Where curves unfold
easily taken
sights to be seen
The rich blue skies
the puffy white clouds
the abundant green pastures
the cared for rusted roof
It’s in that moment—
in my head
the lyrics absorbed once more
wishes desperately sighed
dreams held captive
are wishing for release
As the song ends
I am home

Haiku: Friday

Shhh! I can’t talk now
I’m getting ready to go
Log some biking miles–

One month ago I hopped on my bike, determined to get strong.  Then I hopped on my bike the following day despite an aching va-jay-jay and butt bone.

In the beginning I was slow, huffed and puffed a lot, and felt—at times—like I was going to keel over and die.  Then something happened.  I got stronger. I added more miles to each biking session, I conquered the hills of our local streets, and I found that I loved mounting my bike almost every day of the week.

In one month I have logged over 65 biking miles.

Last week I even started something new:  The Couch to 5K program!

And I didn’t die.

I’m going to finish the C25K.  I’m going to continue riding my bike.  I’m going to push myself a little harder, because if there’s something that I’ve realized in this month it’s that I. am. strong.

Haiku: Thursday

Haiku: Thursday

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