Little Bird Poetry

My weathered yellow skiff, aged yes, but still sturdy, bobbed and quivered as the waves of teeming thoughts desperately lapped at its sides. A dappled sky of light above me, filled with wandering wisps of all but forgotten memories, just out of reach. I drifted aimlessly in the waters caught in a hazy state somewhere between wake and sleep. I jolted into awareness as my soul suddenly jerked into attention and seemingly begged me to glance over the edge. That’s when I spotted him, it, the impending storm. He gracefully swirled and unfurled in my near horizon. I reached for my nonexistent paddles but quietly found myself being drawn into him. Before my current of rational emotions could sweep me to their safety, he was upon me, all around me, crackling with the seductive energy of the unknown. His voice pattered across the across the worn wood, lulling me into a state of peace. His fingers, a gentle wind running through untamed locks. The unusual matrimony of a piercing cold and an i...

Faux sea of salt, Ever moving with ripples of energy from its users, Even with the waves a’goin, You can never be the ocean, Your soul is made of metal, Your sand of concrete, Yet through your waves I dance.

Like skittering critters they come and go, Each with their own lives, Their own stories, Each ever so unique yet similar all at once, It's hard to remember that even though we're so different, We're also all the same species.

I was born a Zoey, But i’d rather be a Rain, Soft and sweet, Gentle as the quiet pitter-patter on the flowers and the trees, But I would still have a darker side, Mysterious and rare, With eyes like darkened skies, Skin like the faint moon behind the clouds, I would like to leave a certain feeling, Just as the showers do, An undertone of sadness with beauty laid over top, Yes, I’d like to be a Rain, Like a downpour over a field, Being long and lingering, Welcomed by many, Yet unappreciated by most, Rain, Yes, I’d like to be a Rain

The hues of her existence are vibrant and enticing, She simply touched me and I sprang to life, Love pours from her dainty palms, Beauty of countless rising moons spill from her veins, She is a lovely lilly flower, Blossoming into a dazzling swirl of color, Dancing, moving, weaving in and throughout my vision, A stunning kaleidoscope of glimmering light, She transformed me, She overflows with joy and grace, I saw her and fell hopelessly in love, I fell in love in a way I cannot comprehend, She is magnificent, Her eyes like precious jewels, Her smile that of a streaking star, She is like a worn old book, Handsomely packaged, Yet illegible to the untrained eye, She is all I could want, Yet, she is like the graceful doe, the passing rain, the flame, She will not remain for long, So all i’m left to do is smile, Even though my soul jerks and tears, It’s as if in losing her, I will lose myself.

I am like a kite. Like a big strong kite. Not a new one by any means. But beautiful, a little worn indeed, yet loved nonetheless. You see me soar high and graze lazy clouds on a summer afternoon or see me become lodged in a tree upon my own doing. My aged paper a color of bright yellow. Yellow like the drops of sun soaked into your skin after a day at the park. My tail is long and thin like that of a house cat, twitching and curling as I glide through the intense currents of air. Somedays I may need a little help getting off the ground; you may have to take a running start, pumping your legs with determination as you try to make me airborn. Some days it may not enough. You may become angry, throw me down and want to abandon me. Yet, you don’t, for you know it may just not be a good day to fly a kite. You have patience and knowledge that one day soon, the air will be right, the sun will be out and i’ll once more in my place among the heavens. Swooping. Gliding. Soaring. Never showing an...

I see you, It hurts, I’m drowning, Please help me, It’s like you’re here again, Like you’re in my bed, Touching me like you used to, My body shaking with every caress, Something is wrong, Something is wrong, Why do you haunt me, Like a monster in my childhood closet, You stalk me, Waiting to pounce.

His scent. His being. His presence. They linger. It's in my hair, my mouth, my clothes. I breathe him in even after he’s long gone. My dainty fingers that once traced his body and ran through his hair harbour small bits of him. My body is like a field after rain, refreshed and ready for new. He brings upon me all I could physically desire. Yet, he also lingers within my heart and my mind. The shadow of him waltzes across my mind’s stage. His eyes an icy blue, his hair a muddy brown. So beautiful to me. Even with his crystalline eyes and kind voice. He does not see my see my true emotion. He sees not the way I look upon him. The way I care. The way I suffer. I feel I may be too attached to him. Such a fine boy. Although he lingers in my heart, I do not remain in his. He does not see me as a secret keeper, a best friend, or a potential partner. Oh no. He sees me as a piece of mortal fruit, beautiful and ripe for harvest. He takes all he chooses and then drops my core to the ground. M...

Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete it all Every .JPEG Every .DOC Each and every one Delete. Delete. Delete. Wipe my drive My history Make my memory a mystery Let my motherboard turn to mush Delete. Delete. Delete. Change my passcode Remove his contact He cracked my screen And gave us a virus Delete. Delete. Delete.

Dripping. Soaking. Wet. Drenched in my own emotions. Crashing like waves. Collapsing like an old roof. I am  trapped. I am hurt. Damn it all. Do not tell me it means nothing. ‘Cause guess what? Crying is the only by which my angst may escape. I don’t know how to handle my own emotions. I don’t know what to do. Dingy old windows, through which you see my breaking heart. Digging it’s own grave while trying to escape it’s ebony cage. Can’t begin to express what flows from within. Couldn’t if I tried. I’m drowning in a sea of emotion. I’ve forgotten how to swim.

Summer afternoon, not a single place to be, A crystal clear, beautifully blue sky hangs above the dirt dusted windshield, Around us, an empty back road surrounded by rolling fields of golden grasses and cleaned cotton stems, Dust flies behind the worn tires of your smoke colored truck, The radio is softly playing our favorite music, Old, gravel filled voices pour from it, singing songs to which we know all the words, Your focus seems to be on the winding road ahead, but I know that your thoughts rest on me, Your hand has a steady grip on the wheel, while the other laying carefully on my knee, My hair flies wildly from the warm breeze and the scent of tilled soil and the songs of cicadas slip into the open window, I tried to steal your old ball cap, but you simply took it off and placed it on my head with a quick kiss and slight smile, I rest my feet on the dash and take in the golden drops of afternoon sun, I sigh and look at  you, here in the quiet of a tr...

I was beaten I was broken I was brought to my knees by forces above me I was left for dead by those who once loved me My heart lays in tatters Shredded by pieces of my broken soul I had given up as it seemed my mind’s night was closing in Then, suddenly, you were there your kind eyes and steady hand pulling me from darkness of which you did not fear from darkness I of which I had known for many moons you became the knight that replaced the night