Writer’s dream

I want to write
Breaking free from the chains
That bind me down
To me

I want to float away
Far from the reach
Of these constellations
Into a land of my mind

I want to break open,
This cage of my soul,
And explore new horizons
And let the writer be born.

Born free of me,
Free to tell the stories,
Some them my own,
Carefree…

Free of my existence,
And existence of its own…
An existence without a face
An existence defined by the constellations
Of the stories I wove.

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Writing

In my cave
Deep beneath the ground
I wait for inspiration to strike
Amongst the muffled sounds…
Sounds of thumping feet,
Sounds of muffled speech,
Sounds of dying music
And of the music that has died
Life reaches me
Seeping through the ground,
I don’t want it here
And in my cocoon I crouch
I dive back into my thoughts
Thinking of the music
Thinking of you, me, him, her, us and them
My heart flows to my hand,
And I bring it all alive,
Into the world of my words.

Plain Jane

I don’t have the long pretty hair,

For you to lose yourself in.

And my cheeks aren’t that fair,

That your touch would make them pink.

I don’t have those deep blue eyes,

In which you might want to drown.

I don’t have the long lashes,

To flutter up and down.

I don’t have a sweet, melodious voice,

That might melt your heart away,

I am not even a tender angel,

That in your arms could sway.

All I am is what you see,

And I am no poets dream,

No fairy tale will tell a tale,

Of the plain-Jane that is me.

I have tried hard and now,

I am tired of this game.

To be a muse, to be a woman,

I don’t want to change

Try to love my smile,

And try to love my frowns,

Try to love my crazy hair,

And my cheeks so brown.

Love me for being who I am,

Else it’s not worth the hype,

I’d rather lose your love my man,

Than be a stereotype!

 

Imagination

His eyes are full of hope

But sometimes that hope just can’t cope

With the realities that he perceives

Perceptions deceive,

Until his heart grieves

For he begins to think he cannot…

The mind races with the heart,

An intense argument starts…

Hopes and fears, start shifting gears…

They are at war…

Deep blues of the iris deepen,

Open shut. Shut and open

Assuming this weird motion,

His mind resists, yet the heart has spoken.

A touch, a smile, a hug

Takes the conversation,

Beyond the realm of emotions

A bond that can’t be broken…

A bond with me, a silly girl…

What would I know of his woes?

He thinks,

She’s a girl and I am a man

She can’t understand.

I don’t, yet I hold him…

And to him all of a sudden,

I am a woman!