throwback thursday

#TBT-poetry style part 3!

While I love writing about recovery, exercise science, yoga, and all things about making life new, I like to throw in a few fun things. I have done music play lists, dance, and the occasional look into my young, tortured, poetic self. I have enjoyed the later so much I am doing it again! I am always inspired to share my old, angsty, wannabe emo writer self, because they do remind me of my good times/bad times/crazy times, and just what it was like to be sixteen again. Who doesn’t want that? ;). Honestly, a part of me to hopes that they still speak for those who have these feelings but can’t find the words themselves. Isn’t that the main purpose of writing? For my previous two poetry throwbacks, click here and here!

~~~

*Intimate, a tritina

Silver moonlight hits your eyes,

The pools of blue tell me that your mine.

And no one else’s, please, hold my hand.

 

There’s nothing more I love than the touch of your hand. Maybe,

Seeing myself, the light reflected in those eyes.

That I love so dear. Can you really be mine?

 

Nothing has been mine.

Ever. You are my first, never let go of my  hand.

I’m all yours, your all I need. Look in my eyes.

 

You are as precious to me as the gleam in your eyes and the locket in my hand that is not only mine, but yours.

*Pink Floyd Mash-Up (a mash up is a blend of one thing, these are all Pink Floyd songs)

Our weary eyes stray to the horizon as promises light up the night like paper does in flight. Then I think of all the good things that we have left undone…

Oooh babe don’t leave me now. Remember the flowers I sent? I need you babe.

What do you want from me? Should I sing until I can’t sing anymore?

Oooh babe don’t leave me now.  Remember the flowers I sent? I need you babe.

I’m not the one you need. And I gotta admit that I’m a little confused by that. Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun? Or the time I woke to the sound of drums, the music played. The morning sun streamed in, I turned and looked at you; and you had that certain look in your eye and an easy smile. Shine on you crazy diamond…

Oooh babe don’t leave me now. Remember the flowers I sent? I need you babe.

God only knows it’s not what we would chose to do, well, what I would choose to do. But sell your soul for complete control, money is the bond between the hopeful and the damned. And honey, you fit right it. Just remember, for long you live and high you fly and smiles you’ll give and tears you’ll cry, I won’t be here.

Make your name like a ghost, hide your wings in a ghost tower and stay within the shadows. And get out of the road if you want to die old.

*Metaphoric Words

My words are powerful.

My words are like arrows that hit you right in the heart.

My words are like butterflies that gently float across a page.

My words are like a fleet of ships getting ready to set sail.

My words are atomic.

My words pierce your soul.

My words are restless waves washing against the sand.

My words leap from my heart as a frog would leap from lily pad to lily pad.

My words can make you cry.

My words can make you smile.

*Everything I’m Not

I could sing of the body electric. I could weave daisies in my hair. I could be the girl of your dreams…

I could walk the straight and narrow. I could dance on through the night. I could be just another number on your list…

I could paint a picture with your hands. I could light your fire. I could be the one…

I could tell you otherwise. I could play this game of love. I could be just another dumb girl..

But, I’m not.

*The Calling

I’m on this road, long and winding,

Speeding, reckless, driving on my way to you.

I have to close this gap between us,

It is way too long.

I couldn’t stand an hour, I can’t stand five.

I’m gonna make you come back with me this time.

 

Music playing on the radio,

Making this strong woman weep.

Avett Brothers seeping through the stereo,

Their bluegrass instruments play my heart.

Every lyric is the story of your life,

From shame to all my mistakes to the smoke in our lights.

 

I was foolish to let you go.

But you didn’t help the cause.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder boy,

I had you on my mind day and night till I called you.

One night stands and countless rendezvous didn’t ease my pain,

I still saw your face.

No one was good enough, no one was like you.

 

My car can’t go fast enough, it wont’ go past 80.

And on these mountain roads that’s too fast,

But not fast enough for me.

My heart goes faster than my car can fly,

My heart is the speed of light,

My heart is the speed of sound.

Can’t you hear my calling, “I’m coming for you hun. I won’t rest till you are mine again.”

 

I’m calling your name,

I’m calling,

“I’m coming for you hun. I won’t rest till you are mine again.”

I’m calling your name,

I’m calling,

“I’m coming for you hun. I won’t rest till you are mine again.”

 

Never thought I was capable of love,

I shuddered wen you wrote me that in an email, laughing it off.

Then realizing, I loved you too.

Baby, honey, my better half.

No one gets me like you,

I should’ve never let you go my darling…

 

I finally  made it to your door.

And I’m calling,

I’m calling your name,

I’m calling,

“I’m here hun. I love you. Yes, I love…”

 

~~~

And of course  no Throwback Thursday is complete without pictures!

 

 

 

 

Another TBT, poetry style

Not so long ago I celebrated my first ever TBT with some poetry from my younger days. Don’t believe me? See for yourself: https://imageoftheheart.wordpress.com/2014/06/12/throwback-thursday-poetry-style/. As mentioned before, I love poetry. I keep telling myself that one day I will pick up a pen and write again. I guess for right now blogging and journaling will suffice. Today, I picked some poems out of my “True Notebook” from my AP English Class circa 2007. The previous TBT poetry entry had poems from that same notebook and my college notebooks.

Here ya go….

~~~~

*First Encounter After Many Years

Singing every song on the radio, even if you don’t know the words.

It’s cool because you’re singing them with me; off key and all.

We don’t care.

Music speaks for us.

The Eagles, Journey, Elton John, The Beatles. Favorites of ours to name a few.

When we didn’t know what to say,

We sang to the song on the radio.

*Confessions of an Angsty Teen

My heart doesn’t belong here. It belongs somewhere else. I am not made for living here. There is something better for me beyond the rainbow. Past these gates of this hell town. I am made to fly, soar with the eagles. walk the streets with the elite of society. This place only offers so much and not enough to fill my soul, the void. You know when you are made for something else; you can feel it in your bones. Well, I came out of the womb knowing I am to make a difference. Make something of myself. To do this I know I have to get out. Break down these walls that hold me back, and live for the moment. My life on a string. Waiting for my break then I can leave this town.

There is nothing worth caring about; life is a waste of time. Everyday doing the same thing. I long for thrill and excitement. Someone I can call my own. A place where I can go and nothing bad happens. Where I can go and be understood. People let you down and material possessions can only get you so far. It always seems like a constant battle between life and death. Overdramatatics and not reacting. Why care about everything when no one cares for you? Friends trample over you, being left you in the cold. You get abandoned and feel gloom, what a horrible existence. But I long for the day when something will change, maybe somebody will lift me up, maybe the disappointment will go away. One can only hope for the well fare of their being. Till that day it is up to us to make ourselves happy. Even if we fail trying.

You can only put so much into people before they let you down. It’s important not to give your hopes up, it’s important not to love. Giving yourself to someone is a big step, because you give a part you can never fully give back. Crying to yourself and justifying reasons on why people do things to make it  better only makes it worse. Believe it or not. the more you lie to yourself, the easier it is to hurt. Your heart will cry and your brain will ache. Not some ordinary pain. Emotions in a tizzy, continuous turmoil. All just to justify, to love the person who loves us so. A never ending cycle of regret and let downs.

*Forshadowing

Awkward glances, hearts beat fast.

Sitting beside each other with hands inches apart.

It’s all the beginning of a teenage romance, the best and worst kind of romances.

They are fast and passionate.

With lots of kisses at the beginning but cheating hearts at the very end.

These romances end in tears, broken.

Precisely why one should stay away. But they are so exciting!

They can make one feel on top of the world, so we don’t think about the hurt.

We long for the fast pace, wild make out sessions, the sex;

That by the time all that has ran its course, we don’t know what hit us.

It’s heaven and it’s hell all wrapped up in one.

*Dance after Dark

We are together for the first time in a while,

Standing beside my car in a deserted parking lot,

Dancing….

Dancing in the moonlight.

Dancing to our song…

We sway to the rhythm,

Gazing at more than the stars.

*March Winds

The March winds blow over the countryside. Daffodils and tulips sway to and fro. Dancing a springtime waltz. Sunrises breath life into morning glories and butterflies. Sweetness of honey adds aroma to the fresh air. Making the senses buzz.

The March winds flow over my face causing my mind to ease. My heartbeat to slow. My hair goes in the direction of the wind.

*Mash Up Poem (Symphony in Yellow by Wilde, The Beautiful Changes by Wilbur, To Paint a Water Lilly by Hughes, Two Songs by rich, Sie Vita by King, The Night Has a Thousand Eyes by Bourdillon)

Like to the falling of a star

Or as flights of eagles are,

We lie fainting together at waters edge.

The mind has a thousand eyes;

The heart but one.

I’d call it love if love didn’t take so many years.

Your hands hold roses, always in a way that says they are not only yours.

The beautiful changes.

A green level of lily leaves,

Roofs the pond’s chamber and lies like a rock of rippled jade.

A sweet flower,

The soul, that drop, that joy,

I’d call it love if love didn’t take so many years.

~~~

More TBT pictures? O the memories…

My bestie and I after the St. Patricks Days parade in Hilton Head for our Spring Break Trip

My bestie and I after the St. Patricks Days parade in Hilton Head for our Spring Break Trip

Luke Starr came back into my life after many years of being apart.

Luke Starr came back into my life after many years of being apart.

Senior Prom with some of my favorites!

Senior Prom with some of my favorites!

My first friend I made in JC when I moved there in 5th grade, Sara, at graduation.

My first friend I made in JC when I moved there in 5th grade, Sara, at graduation.

The darling, Sarah Shell and I at my graduation party.

The darling, Sarah Shell and I at my graduation party.

Throwback Thursday….Poetry Style

As everyone knows, Thursdays are #Throwback Thursdays or #TBT (I am still unsure of hashtags, so I think it is all caps)?I have been thinking about what to write and was stumped. Then I used the whole Throwback Thursday as inspiration for my post. When I was in high school and early college I wrote poetry. Actually I started poetry writing when I was in middle school and creative writing in elementary. The older I got the more I got into poetry, not just reading it, but writing it. Playing with free verse because I felt rhyming was to stifling, mash up poems were fun because I could use lyrics by  my favorite bands. I was completely influenced by the Beatniks and modern verse. I even had dreams, well aspirations, to one day be a published poet. I stopped writing poetry after my relationship before I meet my husband. Sometimes I wonder why I stopped when I have gone through so much that would be great poetry! I also wonder and think if it is too late to take poetry back up. Could I still get published one day?

I never shared much of work with anyone. Just like most artists/creative souls, and most insecure anxious people, art is so personal you hate to get it critiqued. You think it is perfect because it is you….and when someone doesn’t like your work you get offended because you think they don’t like you (this has happened to  me a lot in my dance choreography/dance life). So here ya go blogsphere. Here is my soul, my heart, via high school and college. These are some poems that to this day I still enjoy and I am proud of. If this goes over well, who know I may dig up some more 😉

~~~

*Untitled (really, it has no title, I just jotted it down)

We’re two of a kind, you and I. Similar in mind, soul. Two drifters longing to see the world. Traveling around looking for happiness. through books, through beer bottles, we pine. Pine for things beyond our control. But you just grab a joint. But our talks are endless, filled with depth. Maybe through our tete-a-tete’s we’ll find acceptance. Someone to hold our heart. Someone to hide our tears. I hope to find that in you. But we have our vices. What does one expect?

*Yay for another jotted down poem w/ no title

Parade me around

Wear me on your arm.

I want people to see that I am yours.

*Being a Woman

What does it mean to be a woman?

Pretty nails?

Skinny frame, nice shoes.

Big boobs and a bimbo mind.

The submissive piece of meat,

Who is only good for making babies and doing laundry.

Years of oppression are still followed by  moments of tears.

It isn’t easy being female.

With the biological things going on within our  bodies.

What does it mean to be a woman?

A brain?

Shattering molds of society.

Saying no to what is expected of us.

Accepting who we are inside and out,

Ok with being petite or curvy,

Ok with being the opinionated bitch, getting what she wants.

It’s ok to step out from behind the curtain,

The veil,

Time to reveal who we really are.

What does it mean to be a woman?

It means to be you.

Hold nothing back.

*Boulevards of Plastic

Mixed signals fill my head.

What is beautiful?

Let’s band super skinny models, and get in shape.

But you’re still too fat.

10 ways to go from flab to fab,

This is the closest thing to the fountain of youth,

Botox city.

Walking down boulevards of plastic.

Big boobs are the in,

Lift that body with the right pair of jeans,

Victoria’s Secret is no longer a secret.

Be like them.

It’s not good to be different.

There’s no such thing as pretty pudge, captivating cellulite, short stubs.

Commercials of pretty women,

Models on the cover of Vogue, Elle,

Shape me.

They brainwash me into believing what they believe.

I walked the boulevards of plastic,

The right diet street.

Led me to a place,

A hole I couldn’t get out of.

I came close to chocking. I couldn’t breathe.

These images clouded my mind from age five.

They are my chains of being a woman.

*Painted Noise, a tritina

Let’s laugh

And sing the night away. While our heart dies

And sway to the rhythm of this noise.

If we fill our minds with all the noise

And fill our heart with laughter

Then watch the sun die

And tye-dye

The sky with painted noise

That settle’s our soul and eases our mind to laugh.

Let’s feel this rhythmic noise and die to the sound of sin, music and sky and match it with the roar of our laughter.

*Edge

Breathing in the salty air, feeling the waves crash around my feet. Hot sand between my toes as the sun warms my face. I look out into the ocean and beyond the horizon. As far as the eyes can see. The edge  of the world seems so far away, yet, within my reach. I long for the horizaon and have my life stretch as far as the sea into the sun. I take my  worries and fears and throw them into the ocean. I watch the waves carry them away, give me a clean slate. Start my life anew.

*How I Remember You

This is how I remember you:

A blurred image of my past

With a brightly colored aura

And one hand on my heart.

This is how I remember you:

A speedy afternoon rendezvous

With laughs and giggles

And a kiss on my cheek.

This is how I remember you:

A tearful goodbye

With a blackened heart

And one of us lying on the floor.

*Tear Stains (my last poem that I can find)

Tear stained pillow, tear stained eye, and tear stained heart. Everything is coming out tears, everything is coming up tears. My heart is tye-dyed with tears and memories of you. These tears are bombs to my soul, leaving scars and bruises.

These tears are tearing me apart as I slowly fall to the ground, as I beg for you to come back into my life. I make friends with the floor, longing to feel your touch.

I see you  here, there, everywhere…when the tears aren’t clouding my vision like glaucoma.

These tears are painful. They burn like hot coal and sting like your words: I love you, but I can’t be with you. Don’t think for one minute I’ve never loved you, the timing is just wrong.

Everyday I think for the better. O no tears today! I should know better because them come. They come on their own time, just like you. When it wasn’t convenient for me, but when it was best for you. They ruin my life and my mascara. I can’t do my makeup for it will get ruined. Like my party dress, the one I wanted to wear for you. Now it will go to waste. Just like my love.

How about some #tbt pictures?

Senior homecoming 2007 with of course, my bestie!

Senior homecoming 2007 with of course, my bestie!

Opening our heart centers. Tiffany and I in 2008/9

Opening our heart centers. Tiffany and I in 2008/9

Burning pictures and memories....just a little pyro. My bestie did this with  me!

Burning pictures and memories….just a little pyro. My bestie did this with me!

UT Homecoming, 2009 with my bestie

UT Homecoming, 2009 with my bestie