Tag Archives: poetrymonth

A Safe House

29 Apr

 

You think I got lost,
that I threw away all I had.
But I just felt this pain,
this feeling of going mad.

One day I found myself on the floor,
crying and screaming,
wanting none of this no more.

Now I am in peace
with you, the world and myself.
I no longer live a lie.
My anger may finally cease.

You think I got lost,
that I am wandering around the woods.
But the truth is
I found my roots.

There in the forest,
behind the foggy air,
stands a house, sublime as a castle.
There I live, feeling no dispair.

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The Inner Child

26 Apr

 

We live our lifes,
as it comes.
One day the train arrives,
where will it take us, we ask.

To the land of marvelous hills,
to the craddle of happiness,
to the bright shiny world of magic,
where nothing is impossible.

Just make a wish
and the train will appear.
It opens it’s door 
for those who yearn for an adventure.

Just close your eyes and see,
what beautifull meadow there is,
the elfs and Merlins,
all the beautifull creatures
of the fantasy world
are calling your name.

Don’t be affraid to take the risk,
listen to the child inside.

Free Bird

24 Apr

 

They said I am insane,
I said I am following my dream.
They never saw the the point
in becomming a part of a circus team.

“To live as a nomad,
that’s what you want?
To have nothing to eat
that’s how you will flaunt?”

Better than to live in a lie.
That’s what I thought.
Circus was my hope to be free
and for that I fought.

Now I live my dreams,
traveling from town to town
playing marvelous shows
wearing beautiful flowercrown.
I am as free as a bird,
whistling a beatiful song.

The lights are on.
The main circus tent opens it’s door.
For it’s time to make a wonderful show.

A Bright New Day

23 Apr

I am passing a tall birch,
walking through the field,
approaching and old church,
that I haven’t visit for ages.

Sun warming my morning face,
grass tickling my legs,
remembering my trace.
I am humming my beloved song.

It feels so right
to go this way,
to take step by step
on this green grass
smelling fresh like the new life.

It feels right
to be happy about this road,
I finally see my future bright.
For it is the road to Love.

Purple Rain Falling

21 Apr

luredesigninc.com

Purple rain is falling.
Is it God playing with colors,
spreading his love down to earth?
Maybe one day,
but not today.

Today it is the sky,
crying from purple clouds.
Trying to take the pain away
by caressing our hearts
with beautiful purple rain.

This rain is for you,
for your fame, you crazy little thing,
for your last song,
For you are the Purple king.

Sweet Little Bird

20 Apr
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Examiner.com

Tell me little bird
what is in your head?
Let me caress your golden hair,
let me ease your pain.

You marvelous creature.
No man in the world
could love you enough.
Your shiny hair always curled.

On one ordinary day
there was no power in this world
that would help you with your burden,
with your growing pain.

Tell me little bird,
where are you now?
where do you lay those golden locks?
Where do you whistle that sweet song?


I wrote this poem as my tribute to Marilyn Monroe who truly was marvelous creature.

I dedicate this poem to today’s Hump Day Poetry.

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New Life Awakens

20 Apr

cutting the trees
morning ray of light
new life blooms

 

This Haiku was written for Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille April 20th 2016 | Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/20/heeding-haiku-with-chevrefeuille-april-20th-2016/

Whiskey In The Jar

18 Apr

Only she knew what happened
and how it ended.
It was gone with the evening wind.
Their precious love was pretended.

Now only misery was left.
In her evening delirium,
sitting near the bar,
drinking her smooth whiskey in the jar.

What happened, she asked,
is our paradise lost?
Why am I no longer your diva,
your Goddess, your Eva?

The bar will close in a few,
the window is wer from a morning dew.
She felt her inner voice within,
insatiable power to not give in.

Her lust for some illicit move,
made her order another booze.
Her husky voice called out for barman,
one more, brother!
She slapped the bar with her palm down.

So what now? To hunt him down?
To make him look like a clown?
But how it helps me, she asked.
To forget everything about the past…

The fear from adronitis was too high,
the comfort given from all sides
was not easy to buy.

Let’s turn it around, she thought,
so that later in years she could say,
it mattered that I fought.
For me and my better future.
Cheers to that !


This poem was written for https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/18/wordle-106-april-18th-2016/

Tanka for Sunday Evening : Hidden Island

17 Apr

image from benngie.vsco.co

once upon a time
she was my secret island
far away from land
we belonged to each other
never wanting to turn back