Frouple

It hurts knowing you're fine without me,
But I'm not fine without you.
It hurts, dreaming at night, seeing your face ...
Only to wake alone.
I cry so many tears
Spending all of these years
Empty in solitude.
A song, a moive, a picture
They cause so much pain
So much misery.
I remember everything.
Everything I should forget.
To erase that part of me
Would make the rest of life ...
Bearable. Liveable.
When people ask how we were so close
What do I say?
That you taught me to live?
That you taught me to love?
That you sealed up all my hurts,
Made all my pain go away?
How to explain that
When you are now the cause for all the pain ...
I've never been close to anybody before.
And I'll never be close to anybody again.

~Me

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

 

 

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My ..........

Emily Dickinson

in Just

 

Photo by Me!

in Just- by E. E. Cummings

in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little lame baloonman


whistles far and wee


and eddyandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring


when the world is puddle-wonderful


the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing


from hop-scotch and jump-rope and


it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed


baloonMan whistles
far
and
wee

 

 

I captured that picture at the fair a few autumns ago. The best picture I ever created for my photography class. Even doing a google search, I couldn't find any pictures I liked better to go with this poem. I named my photo The Balloonman, after all. Fits nicely with this poem, I think, even if it was dark out and there are not children playing hop-scotch or jump-rope in it. And it wasn't spring.

I love this poem. Remember it from high school. The way Mrs. U would read it, the words just came alive. I can't make them sound the same as she did, but they lose no magic still, after all these years.

A Dream Within A Dream

A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

 

Such a beautiful poem. Really makes a person think about things.  Things that are fleeting in life, things we don't realize we have until they are gone.  Sometimes, no matter how you cling, the things that matter have a way of slipping through your fingers. Gone. Like a dream.

Meehoo~ Shel Silverstein

The Meehoo with an Exactlywatt by Shel Silverstein

Knock knock!
Who's there?
Me!
Me who?

That's right!
What's right?
Meehoo!
That's what I want to know!

What's what you want to know?
Me, WHO?
Yes, exactly!
Exactly what?
Yes, I have an Exactlywatt on a chain!

Exactly what on a chain?
Yes!
Yes what?
No, Exactlywatt!

That's what I want to know!
I told you - Exactlywatt!
Exactly WHAT?
Yes!
Yes what?

Yes, it's with me!
What's with you?
Exactlywatt - that's what's with me.
Me who?
Yes!

GO AWAY!

Knock knock...

 

One of my favorite poems by Shel Silverstein ever. This one has stuck with me over the years. I read the books to my younger sister.  I usually read her books whether for school book reports or for pleasure, we bonded over books. This poem was our favorite. We laughed so much at it. Such simple comedy gave us much amusement. I had to share this.

Rainbow

A Rainbow

A rainbow appears on a dismal gray day;
Like most things of beauty, it's not here to stay.
A hallmark of nature that's seldom in sight,
Not always around, it's a treasure of light.

It's not in its nature to give us delight
By touching its texture, try as we might.
We need to have senses to see the unseen,
To look at a spirit, its secrets to glean.

With violet, indigo, blue, and some green,
The yellow and orange and red can be seen.
Not taste nor a smell does its brilliance boast,
But our minds still accept this spectral host.

Lit up by a sunbeam, a gossamer ghost,
It's nothing but water, just vapor at most.
Those millions of billions of bubbles of dew,
It's sad that their grandeur enlightens so few.

Refractions of sunlight, sensed through the eyes,
Make magical moments in clearing blue skies.
They brighten the day before starting to stray,
And bring forth new hope before fading away

by Gaines Fox, 2003

Blizzard

Blizzard

Snow falls:
years of anger following
hours that float idly down --
the blizzard
drifts its weight
deeper and deeper for three days
or sixty years, eh? Then
the sun! a clutter of
yellow and blue flakes --
Hairy looking trees stand out
in long alleys
over a wild solitude.
The man turns and there --
his solitary track stretched out
upon the world.

William Carlos Williams