Because of You

My desire to write poetry,
has been affected by your presence,
the same fevered passion exists
yet, its been reduced to your name
maybe even a letter in the end
my muse, this pandora’s box, the new beginning and my end is with you.

So come the rushing waters of what might one day be,
bring on the swirls of passionate winds,
stretch the legs of workers in the trenches of this world,
my love breathes in these,
i am because of you.

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Soft Signs of Soon

Soft signs of soon
Soon, signs of soft
Signs soft, of soon
Of soft, soon signs
Soft soon, signs of

*Taking four words and writing poetry.

The phrase “soft signs of soon” caused such comfort this morning. Curious to see when placing them in a different order would body and mind react differently. Comfort, anxiousness, hopefulness, reflection, and peace were felt after each line.

I’m focusing on language and how it causes the poet in me to react. I’m happy with the outcome of this exercise and wanted to share it with y’all.

Does this make any sense to you or have I arrived at the Cliff of Rediculusness? Smiles. So what if I have…

***
A quick glance into my today. I do hope all is well in WordPress land. Thank you for continuing to read my poetry, as of late. I’ve shared much of what was written over the past year. There will continue to be some of that, please take caution when reading and don’t worry too much about me, as not all will reflect the moment.

I’m full-time mom, full-time employee, and full-time single household juggling, so please know I appreciate you being here in my space and leaving an encouraging word.

Your understanding and support means more than you will ever know. I recognize how difficult it can be to write while continuing to be present enough to encourage your peers. You never go unnoticed. I want you to believe this most importantly.

Thankful you still see the remnants of a Poetess about, as she is the woman who inspires me and the one I will crawl on my knees, however the distance, to find once again.

Always,
Aud

Mindful Clutter

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humbly,
how do I handle,
every thought found,
deep inside?
born,
without a voice,
kept hidden,
under my control.
bundled,
tightly upon,
my breasts,
ache, alive and well.
slowly,
pushing my mind,
irrationally so,
towards giving up.
aware,
i’m only one,
emotional woman,
who’s unworthy.
mindful,
i’m gravitating,
towards views,
full of clutter.
asking,
to sit beside,
material rubble,
for peace.

Pine

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Branches transforming into her hair
Watching, but not meaning to stare
I wonder, how often your mind goes there

Your hands slowly needing to gather
One delicate end to the other
In an effort to feel her

Lightest of tree feathers linger
Cascading through your rough fingers
Your senses confirming, as lips simper

Silky, smooth and smelling of pine
I know you think of her all the time
Understanding now, you’ll never be mine

A Poetess Waits

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Casting down poetic eyes,
while fostering emotions differently,
an accepting Poetess waits.
To protect herself,
she delicately wraps,
her fated heart,
destined to react,
expressively.
Securing each subliminal verse,
as her own dreaded curse,
she stands alone.
Tears falling, gently,
escaping from her grasp,
lost inside moments,
she knows will pass.