YaMoGeekRoZ's blog

i must say,
this is really quite intriguing,
i'm laughing at my reaction;
"holy crap.
where did my writing go?"
a moment of horror,
a moment of panic,
a burning question;
"was that suppost to happen?"
whether it wasn't or it was,
i'm actually grateful,
i am starting over
the way i do on a clean sheet of paper.

there's only one,
but one's enough
one to watch and one to see
one to light a light in me
one to fix
one to find,
one that's never far behind.
one that sings a sweet, sad song
the one with which i never get along
one to hope and one to pray
one who will live
at least one more day.

This is just to say
What needs to be said.
You are a phoney and a wannabe,
The only one you doesn't know it is
you.

This is just to say
I am in awe of your stupidity.
Darlin' you're opening the wrong can of worms,
'Cause the can is gonna cut you if they don't bite you.

This is just to say,
Honey,
I got one thing on you,
I know who my friends are,
and they don't hate me.

This is just to say,
What I can't actually tell you.
Because you won't hear it,
And that's your fault not mine.
Someday you'll realize you aren't picture perfect,
And someone who you want to hear will tell it to you straight.
And they'll start by saying,
This is just to say.

This is just to say,
I hope you know
This will shape the rest of her life
And the life of a complete stranger.
And there’s no going back,
And it’s all your fault.

This is just to say
Forgive me
For ripping up the rose
And throwing it back in your face.
Forgive me for walking away
And never
Coming back.

She talks,
He listens,
He says something stupid,
Does something wrong,
She goes silent.

Seeing a cold anger lancing from her eyes,
He relizes maybe he wasn't really listening
The way they both thought he was.
Maybe he was too literal
To decipher the metephors she threw at him,
He thought they were just her funny way
Of talking.

He tries to blame it on her.
It's wasted,

I must say,
It’s a surprise to see the faces,
That were shadows until now.
To finally meet
These strangers,
Who know
And seem to understand you,
In a way
You thought that maybe,
nobody ever would.
To see these faces
Come to light
And talk with voices,
Not just in written words.
And to know
Every single one is there
For the same reason you are,
Is a feeling quite unimaginable

Pretty girls,
in a tear drop world.

They cannot know that
as they dance their heart
is not the only one plotting
it's next move.

And those pretty girls,
in that tear drop world
put shining smiles on their faces
while hiding what they really feel
under a mask of over exagerated make-up.

I see one
I know her well,
a still, grounded body
in a sea
of pounding motion.

This nation’s one of freedom
Acceptance is its lot,
It’s got a backbone build of dreams for all,
A spirit which holds its lifeline taut,
But for me it’s cloaked in fraud.

The master’s daughter asked my once,
“Addie why do your people always sing?”
I answered her as best I could,
That smiling porcelain doll,
I love her like my little girl,

Today Fear came to me,
a pretty young woman offering lies
swathed in honey, which
I never cease to believe.

Today Fear reached out to me,
with a soothing hand to ease away
my apprehension.
And when, as always, I had slipped into
Her trap,
She flicked her wrist and brought her hand
back in a slap,
so that the pain and noise echoed from my
Cheek bone.

Today Fear came to me,

Inviting sun rises,
Glowing off the ocean
Until miniscule rosy dawn
Hopes to help chase away
The goliath expanse that is
A sapphire field of stars
Cloaked in azure,
And ringed with indigo.

Soft with the warmth of morning,
Upset by the invincible pain
That is forever partnered with the world,
The sun dances.
Walking the water,
Sketching an invisible map

The artist creates
A vision of grace with her
Paints,
She casts her gaze into
The west and echoes all she sees.
In her pretty gown,
She tries to keep clean,
But her gloves have fallen to the kiss
Of spotted disaster,
Mimicked one thousand times up her arms
In the rainbow of her paints,
Cobalt ,
Saffron,
Indigo,
Lime,
Rose adder,
India ink,
Her brush dances like

I wake up too early.
Early enough to see the sun rising
Swathed in pink elegance,
Long after I’ve been working.
And
I want to cry,
Because I should be asleep.
Good morning.
Good night.
Dedication will never
Let me rest.
That report card had better be good.

The Silence is filling up
you can see it,
the uncomfortableness,
until
someone responds
to the statement
which no one
voiced.
Silence greets it, and
will take it away before long.
For Silence
hides away all that is
unwanted.
and hushes it with cold fingers
to soothe it on it's way.
The Silence has spoken
to reconfigure the
bridge of truths
unspoken,

I sit in a corner
Hands working fast
Between their spinning tirade of thread,
A wooden box lets it self be fixed by my creative
Tired mind.
It once held a small wheel of
Brie cheese,
Silly I know, but
I am easy to please.
I’m going to fix it up real nice
Real pretty.
I am going to create something sweet
My bothered mind can hide my troubles in.
I am going to make a box,
Stuff it all in and shut the lid
I’ll glue it closed
And hide it away,
In the dead of night
So no one will see.