Sometimes it Hurts

Too Soon

The Mother cries

For the life She had to take

For the hearts She had to break

Not because it was his time

Not because it was our time

But because it was Her time

So gently She weeps

As the tears roll down our cheeks.

Blood Tells

I am not a mother

Yet I am their Mom, their grandma and

I was his Great Grandmother

We only met twice,

Yet he was my baby

Blood is not the only connection

Family is of the soul

He will be missed

Another piece of my heart  taken early

Dad

My heart hurts.

My stomach turns.

My tears fall.

I miss you.

You were my rock.

You were our shelter.

You are Dad…

And you are gone.

I remember

And I weep

I ache

And I burn.

I know you walk beside me.

I wish I could feel your hug.

You would love him too.

It’s what makes me so very sad.

Tomorrow is forever

Today will go away

The past is a fading memory.

Stay in my heart

Know my dreams

See my joys

Feel my sorrows.

Kiss my hurts

Heal my wounds

Patch the scrapes

I miss you

I love you

I need you

Father 

Poetry comes from a place deep inside me. Sometimes it hurts.  I cry while I write, but I still get it out.  Why?  Because sometimes it is supposed to hurt.  You don't get away with living life without pain. Sometimes life hurts.  There is nothing wrong with that. It is the way it is supposed to be. Sorrow is how we heal.  Let your life be a life.

Love what I am doing and want to see more?  I am now on Patreon.

Poetry

Looking back on the many posts I have already made, I was surprised that there were not more posts about my poetry. I do not write poetry often, mostly because it comes to me whole in a flash. There is no outline, deliberation, editing. I just have my piece. I had better write it down quickly too or it will be gone...just like it arrived. I have spent many a late night writing piece after piece. I have a love hate relationship with those nights.

My first poem in over 10 years was also my first real writing in that long. I had sequestered myself from my friends and the urge to write had gone with them. At the time I thought it was for the best. I regret nothing for I love where I am today, even with the challenges I have, but I did miss it.


Every Night as I lie in your arms
Your breath touches my skin
Passion flows in my veins
Love lives in my heart and
Wonder lights in my head
For it is every night that I lie in your arms…


I wrote this piece for Sar. He opened my heart and my mind in so many ways; we were particularly awful to be around as the New Relationship Energy pumped through us. That one caught all of that, plus my excitement at writing again.

Secrets, the next poem, actually has no story.  Well other than the one where everyone tried to figure out what I was hiding.  Honestly it just came like many others, it had no hidden meaning to me.  Does it to you?

There are things you cannot share
things you do not dare.
There are things that make you sad
when all you wish is to be mad.
There are things that stop you in your tracks
and make others turn their backs.
There are things you wouldn’t show
that no one truly wants to know.

It’s best if these things stay hidden away
forever and a day.
A promise broken, a promise kept
broken hearts under rugs, swept.
There are things I wish to say,
if only I could find a way.

I don't know what style I would call my poetry. I rarely worry about rhyme, thinking more about the rhythm of the words. I often use short phrases and repeated patterns, not words always, but repeats in the look and feel of the phrase, to get impact. You can see that in my final piece today.

What I want
What I need
Who I love
Who I am
How I live
How I talk
Where I play
Where I laugh
Why I care
Why I write

What matters?
Who fears?
How said?
Where cautioned?
Why judge?

Ask
Learn
Know
Live

The more I write the better I write, or at least the better I think I write.  I hope you are enjoying the blog! 

Love what I am doing and want to see more?  I am now on Patreon.