Posted in Being True

While You Were Sleeping…

Seconds pass,

My every breath a whisper,

A litany of your name,

Mixed with hope and longing,

Crosses my lips,

Breathing life into,

My bittersweet memory of you.

 

©Ruth P. – 2017

No part of this work may be reproduced.

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Posted in Being True

About a Birthday

What a grand day is this!!

Hearken all ye who know,

Come gather in great numbers,

Be it rain, sun or snow.

A day of celebration,

Fun, laughter and great joy,

Good wishes and blessings collect,

Each one at a time.

 

But, just remember that it may not be,

The wish of them for whom you sing;

That quiet lover of heartfelt whispered thoughts,

That remain long after laughter’s echoes ring.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True

I Appeal, but Falter Not

Healing inside

Apathy beside

Why do you not trust me?

I am no different now

From when we last met

Why must you so hurt me?

Can you not see?

I’m becoming me

Returning to myself again?

Must I remain

Bound to the wordly

To the material and the vain?

But I understand

Fear and distrust

Can blind you to clarity.

Yet why must I prove

To be above reproof

My mind and my sanity?

Choice – illusion

Trust – fake

If belief must be woven to make.

But I relent not

On my path

Not even for your sake.

If I scare you

Learn me anew

Gain perspective from sight.

Assuredly, friends

I won’t fight

For might is not always right.

Silence, my ally

Isolation, my comfort

Only one thing I must assert.

In Him I stand

Confident and true;

My choice does not depend on you.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, The Wandering Mind

Transition

Be not so quick to relegate
A tired existence to the ledge
Off onto the mind’s very edge
Where darkness and madness meld
To a new form of insanity.
What is it you seek out there?
Reason? Solace? Rationale?
Justifiable cause, for the thin sliver
Of your minor existence, in a crowd
Of seven billion jostling souls?
You who are plugged into the Matrix,
Retract your mind,
You alone are powerful.
Better to seek your freedom, than to
Focus your energies on discovering
Your lonely self to be utterly dependent
On the custom of the indifferent
For the self-validation of a reality
That should be your own, but isn’t
Because you never even knew
When you gave it away.
That lack of control is your own fault.
Your cross to bear, for all the times
You – hurt, torn, beaten, cursed – suffered,
Under the yolk of those who you empowered
To be the masters of your happiness.
Nothing, you say?
You granted that wish long ago
When you gave yourself into
Slavery; trudging after that elusive sense
Of self-worth, that follows you
If you would but turn around to see it.
Instead, choose to be something
Independent of the lives around you
Certain of your own destiny
Creator of your own fate.
And then maybe you will see
The worth of people around you change
To reflect your own transition
Into a being higher than they
Cloaked in humility
Lighter than darkness.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, The Wandering Mind

Yesterday; or, Rewind

Stench of rubber

Screech of steel

Crash of transparent

Viewing screen

Sound and light

Both too bright

Gasping breath

Dizzying sight

Shooting flashes

Of fresh pain

Searing metal

Bloody stains

Vision flashes

In a blur

Void of sound

Leeched of color

Voices shouting

Beating drums

Paling faces

Heart still pumps

 

Un-conscious

D-r-i-f-t-i-n-g

W-a-k-ing

Blinking

 

Doctors, questions

Steel and white

Numb body

Stretching tight

Bloody cotton

Rusty glass

Rushing sound

Seeing stars

Steadying arms

(Wanting you)

Still unbelieving

Of the truth

Wraps for body

Pills for pain

Support for walking

Strong again

Tired and weary

Seeking rest

Dose of sleep

Would be best

(But not before

I tell you

There’s nothing I

Would keep from you.)

 

My dear friends

I hope you see

This isn’t mere poetry.

It happened to me

Yester-eve

And now to a recovery!

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, Poems - A Collection of Expressions

On the Cusp

The curtain falls, but I

Can’t seem to move away

I’m staring at your face

Lost in memory’s haze.

 

You’re always by my side

You’ve kept me straight

Kept me from straying

I am bound to you.

 

Your insistence is unwavering

You say I don’t know you

I’m half-afraid you might be right

Though I know it isn’t true.

 

I hear you swear you’ll stay with me

You promise you’ll never leave

But there’s a part of you I’ve lost already

A side I’ll never see.

 

And there’s the cruel irony

For, my heart is filled

With sorrow, but

My mind; it knows relief.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, Poems - A Collection of Expressions

Missing You, Choosing Me

I see sunlight through the starlight

I feel warm rain in the breeze

I know I will be forgotten

In the morn.

 

My own memories, flow like water

Mix like star dust with my dreams

There’s no happily ever-after

Now I’m torn.

 

Can I look into your eyes, and see

Could I ever see your smile, and know

Will I ever have no doubts, with you?

Do I even have a choice?

 

I’ve accepted, all the regrets

And my mistakes, they’re mine too

Now I’m learning to be happy

With myself.

 

Though I’d rather have you with me

To… not be lonely in their gaze

But I know you’re, not really healthy

For me.

 

Can I look into your eyes, and see

Could I ever see your smile, and know

Will I ever have no doubts, about you?

I think I’ve made my choice.

I choose me.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, Poems - A Collection of Expressions

Living with Regret

Regret.

 

It is the splinter under the flesh

The thorn that bites the heel

The speck in the eyes that one cannot see.

 

A pinching hollow darkness

That breeds nightmarish dreams

Born of normal ones, but twisted at the seams.

 

The cause is immaterial,

Be it false or just,

The effect is the same; a harsh breach of trust.

 

Perhaps there is a chance

In the offer of forgiveness

But damned is the soul that agrees to that perspective.

 

For memory allows no retraction

Of words, from thought or speech

Salvation seems a poor joke while bound to punishment’s leash.

 

© Ruth P. – 2016

No part of this work may be reproduced.

Posted in Being True, In Dedication..., Poems - A Collection of Expressions

Poetry loves me too

A fantastic poem in dedication to the Poet Rumi. But also a poem bursting with truth. Manan captures the essence of poetic longing with expressions that will resonate with all who enjoy the language of words.

I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think ~ Rumi A poet is really a vagabond Caught in a tangle of words momentary The tongue can never become the heart Un…

Source: Poetry loves me too