The World in My Hands

Love puts the world
In the palm of my hand.
To light with a touch.
To rest with a blink.
Once my vision whirled
I soared, my eyes panned.
The world so small, so much
Possibility clogged the sink.
And so imagination swirled.
Overflowed the land.
My heart skipped double dutch.
So much to do, to think!
But a frame is but a square
Vain in my hands,
If one face fills to brink.

Inspiration: Amelia's most recent poem, "Decisions". :) Though I kind of go off on a tangent with my main point.

Improv...I think...

I usually do lots of thinking before I write a poem, but I'd like to try it another way, since I'm in a bit of an experimental stage at the moment. Just set out to write, and beat some creativity into it with a club, to put it in a straightforward way.

The Portrait

A humble facade,
Sharp in contrast
To a dance of pastel,
Creams, patterns,
Jewels so bright,
They appear dull.
Proud figure so full
Of surprised delight,
Complexion lanterns
Cast mystery well,
Deep and steadfast.
As she looks at me,
Can't help but wonder
What I see.

Inspiration: I stumbled upon a journal at TJ Maxx one day. I guess it wasn't beautiful, at first sight, but it really got me thinking. The cover was almost a Mona Lisa on so many levels of my crazy thought process. It happened to have this portrait on the cover: http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u79/ksonniks/ladyAgnew.jpg

Spanish poetry

I usually don't write poetry in Spanish, but I had to do so for a school assignment. Of course, I know enough Spanish to be able to express myself the best I could, and, since this is another milestone in my hobby as a poet, I thought I should show the world!

Sandia

Memorias vidas
Manchado y agotado,
Dulce y familiar;
Rosa, en mi memoria.

Un vez, pegajoso.
Una fragrancia.
Sonrisa de tiempo
En el sol del verano.

Un vez, fresca,
Sencillo y serenidad.
Como mis días
Como mis noches.

Ahora, no más.
Pero el sabor
De mi niñez,
Nunca me olvido.

Sadness

She blew it.
No point hiding.
No point denying
these moments of pain.
Her mind had gone blank.
Why? Why then?
Why drain the sea of hope,
To a sad little glen?
Her plans tore to shreds.
Her dreams not in sight.
They had lied when saying
Her future was so bright.
Confusion now in mind,
On the edge she stalls.
What now? What to do?
She's not ready to fall.

Ascent From Hell

The scars, the bruises,
Shackles of the past.
One day, they'll rust away,
But now they're windows
To the soul.
A peek at the wreckage
Stubborn to stay.

The heart is drained.
Empty deep and wide.
Yet so heavy, spilling
A substance dark and cruel.
Just short of hope,
Just short of understanding
Silhouettes of a nightmare.
Time itself so demanding.

The setting of the crimson sun
Burns long shadows
On the path.
A winding road drenched
By salty floods.
Behold, the aftermath.

Me

In the void, I find solace
And solace never void.
Empty, boundless, flooding
Potential to be toyed.

The rush of life is silent
Thoughts halted in their flow.
All but a hollow drip.
Persistent leaks echo.

But all the world is mine to see
In the rustle of a pen.
All the moments in between
The who, what, and when.