Rosy Cheeks’ Front Door

February 28, 2008 | Filed Under Poetry | 1 Comment 

Rough draft of my first attempt at a song… well, except for a lullaby.
Hmm, music maestro?

She can’t contain her emotions
they spill onto the floor
bursting forth from bright blue eyes
down rosy cheeks’ front door

You would think the soulful sight
would cause his heart to break
and send a message to his mind
of all that was at stake

He looked through colored glasses
that hid her soul from view
He looked through colored glasses
to see all but what was true

Her heart was surely broken
even a child could see
that she was broken inside out
and could not let it be

It mattered not how many years
she’d held him in her heart
nor whether he had earned her love
right from the very start

He looked through colored glasses
that hid her soul from view
He looked through colored glasses
to see all but what was true

MeeAugraphie
02/28/08

Hell, perhaps

February 28, 2008 | Filed Under Life balance, Poetry | 3 Comments 

Hell, Perhaps

Perhaps, there is no hell as some believe.

Perhaps, hell is not down there
nor even the entirety of our experiences on earth.

Perhaps, instead, hell is more personal
- and a matter of degrees -
(other than Centigrade or Celsius or Fahrenheit or points on a circle)

Perhaps, hell is our Muse needing the approval or applause of others
and weaving itself securely in our hearts and minds
so that whether we recognize good in our art form or not…
we still need the others — because Muse does.

Perhaps, hell is not that at all,
but our inner need to share what we have to give
with the one person who is hunting for it,
yet we are unequipped to know which one is
the one
and settle for false applause and cheers,
our inner need rarely met.

Perhaps hell is merely your residing in an artist’s soul,
waiting for them to develop you further,
to dig deeper,
to encrust you in more angst than you earned on your own
before you are splattered to land in air, on paper, or canvas
as soulful notes, asserted words, molded clay, or painted strokes,
for people to love, rage over, admire, or ignore….
I suppose the latter depends on which hell level you made it to.

MeeAugraphie
02/28/08

Some Days

February 28, 2008 | Filed Under Life balance, Poetry | 2 Comments 

Some Days

Some days suck
no matter if you reach
inside
and pull out pieces of
self-esteem
(fictional or otherwise)
and marvel at them.

It is not enough.

Some days suck
no matter if another
speaks glowingly
of all you are
(in honest words)
and you cannot deny them.

It is not enough.

Some days suck
no matter what.
I suppose it is
really about numbers.
Are some days few
and far between or
today, yesterday, and tomorrow?
as long as it is
only some days
as opposed to
all days,
the possibility exists
either
the day before yesterday
or
the day after tomorrow

won’t suck.

MeeAugraphie
02/28/08

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