sepia days

There are days I lock my door and don't want to let you in.
There are nights I sleep in a cold and loveless bed and want to beg you to knock that same door down. Daze of silence a whisper would be too loud. And days nothing could break me.

I must remind myself to breathe because I live too much in the past and the sepia of long ago can be addictive. Sadness becomes a sickness.
Some times I don't recognize my own life, but never a day I want to shut the light out.

My words are too heavy and purple skies stain my walls. Poetry is pain, trust betrayed is a lie. Music lets me hide while I regain my sight. Desolate days I can't walk but my imagination can run. Unbearable darkness so I crave the sun.

But this multicolored thing creates me and I call it life. Coloring it in one day, one page at a time.


 

To all my circle friends

To those who have read this blog in the past , as well as those who have newly added me to your circles thank you! I have been taking some time to figure out if I am even good enough to do this. Also dealing with some issues in life too personal to share right now. But I know everything I go through at some point will end up in print as it always has found its place in words. I am honored that you are still here and I am asking you to stick around and I'll see if I can make this into the lyrical, poetical blog I wanted it to be, not just for myself but for those of you who have shown up here for me. I promise this when I do come back to these pages I will be showing up to read your creativity, your thoughts, whatever you want to share. I hope to return within the next couple of weeks. Until I do I wish each of the best writing inspiration possible and I look forward to sharing your work with the world as much as possible. Again I am honored and feel blessed by each one of you. Hope you understand and I will see you on the page soon.
  

Much respect and appreciation to all, Vanessa Peterson

we were lovers

we were lovers, never friends

i fell headlong into your smile

melted in the heat of your skin

became addicted to the taste of your lips

and remembered their crest

your breathing reminded me i am alive

and that feeling ran ecstatically through my veins

and i shouted to the night

bless this love

but this love had no direction

we were lovers, never friends

champagned nights couldn't cure me

they soaked me to the bone and i couldn't run

we were young

our bodies fit perfectly

and you wrapped yourself around me for a year

and i borrowed your name

as sure as waves of love crashed in

they swept me out with you as well

there was no going back

you were part of my storybook i could tell

we slept and didn't sleep in a borrowed cottage

and the tower light swept through our room

i was lost, found, drunk and sober

we were children of the night

even the shadows couldn't steal that jealous moon

you were cool like river air on my skin

yeah we were lovers, never friends

 

History

hymns of the past ancient humming captivates me, the sound of comfort as old as I am
first rememberings
memories of you and us
now dust
days of feeling like a lone book end
you are the missing other
I shelter all this
the sound of you coming home
your last leaving
hushed voices in deep of night
the link of you just feet away
the distance unapproachable for feet so small
halo's disappeared, I forgot they were real
broken hours took their place
I hear your laughter in my children
I see your eyes in another's face
makes me wonder...
do we remember the little glimmers we leave behind
in generations we will never see
yet have an ancestral claim
for all their happenings that make us
history

fair weather girl

I crave to hear the words you'll never say
The light in your eyes is dark even on the brightest day
Close the blinds, close out the world
I love you still, my fair weather girl

My words are loud cause you don't hear me
I am your doubt, the fear you'll be like me
I used to be the center of your pretty pink world
Now you count the days until you leave
So long my fair weather girl

You're beautiful, you don't need me to tell you
I gave everything all I did was fail you
Your life is full there's no space to fit me in
I crave the days that long lay past
You won't be mine that way again

So may the sun shine in your world
You say you won't miss the rain
The silver sting
You only crave the sun
My fair weather girl, this is farewell my girl
How I'll miss my fair weather girl

winter wine

beneath the winter tree he kissed his girl
the silence so loud and heavy it split the night
and the moon soaked up their breath
every thought we can't be
vanished
no matter the cost she would be his
he could not part his soul from the shine
in her eyes
and her heart agreed
maps and highways and bonds 
and agreements with God disappeared
his love of her reverent, unearthed
bodies tingled with desire, the beautiful movement
of life breath slipping, sustaining the dance
that was electric
soul, his very soul he could feel it soar
his lips were on fire with the taste of her wine
hands tangled in mahogany silk as regret died
this silver pouring through his veins, this was life
his girl was essence of summer, moonlit walks
in midnight snow
she was shelter, heat, strength and hope
gathering her to himself
his love, this angel he had prayed into existance
two hearts dancing a thousand dances
in a blue and gold night
tomorrow would wait
now was his to give to his temptation
his vibrant transparent poetry
in the flesh
his winter wine

pages of me

I read graffiti left on cement halls
summer is the perfect illusion
though it has came many times
slant of sunlight is different I notice
on red walls
my dreams have a life of their own
they just haven't made their mind up 
yet...
the world is a large place and I have resigned
myself I won't get to see a lot of it
there are loves I have never touched
my songs wait in boxes for voices
to sing them
for music to live them
I still write letters to my parents
they are no longer here
I still mourn them
I don't really expect anyone to understand me
hope refuses to die, I can't kill it
some days I am a recluse
and I am fine with that
I like the way rain feels on my face
and how it sounds late at night on a tin roof
a midnight lullaby
there's nothing like the fragrance of a 
warm southern night
when I can't sleep I write
music is my heal and my crave
and as many times as I try to rewrite 
the story 
it always ends the same