Not Just Hearts And Flowers
original poetry by
Rhonda Hill
~~~~untitled 1~~~~
You'll look beyond desire-
tingling with crashing curves from heaven,
as silky,
moonlit clouds,
patiently touch the nerves
to our longest drought.
Peace floats harm toward the end,
awakening much needed fire-
aloud and
certainly of stars changes.
Waiting in the soft rain,
but longing
to merely keep with the sun.
~~^untitled 2^~~
Would my inner storm
effect the delicious naked fool?
My desire within circumstance-
the hot reality fashioned-
Too censored.
Seeking things the life bound.
Epitaph of reluctance-
an early end to our memory of love.
**~untitled 3~**
anything and nothing,
keep the moons-
long curves of heaven
and their northern lights, patiently-
beyond the stars tingling desire.
***untitled 4***
Wouldn't reward found in heaven
still stay ever patiently
in the stars,
tingling,
beyond the changes,
when you'll go-
soul seeping away like rain...
destined
to touch
greater things other
than the life of hopes & desire?
Nothing happens.
The only prize being
that fron our own creation.
* * In This... * *
In this moment,
I am bored.
Staring at a computer
screen at 3am and
unable to sleep...
yeah, one could be considered
a little reastless.
In This moment,
though I am bored,
I am also completely...
satisfied.
Yes, that's right,
I said it.
Hot and heavy
was the game earlier.
In this room,
I am surrounded
by my artwork.
It hangs in a
haphazard way
on the walls and
above the windows.
I am running out of
places to put it.
Many lay in stacks,
in my bedroom,
in the corner,
probably will never see
the light of day again.
It matters not as
they were done out of my
own need to create and not
to satisfy the masses.
They never would anyway.
In this time,
I am crazed by the quiet.
So silent is my home
once everyone has drifted into dreamland.
I want to do something,
but what is it that I should do?
So, I give in and
write down this bit of prose,
hoping to quench the thirst of
the gnawing creativity bug.
In this chair,
I sit comfortably,
watching the glow in front of me
change as I click away,
at the keys and mouse
and I wonder if I never tell anyone,
will they even know that I wrote this?
What is this drive,
this need to make something
that resides inside me?
Why does it exist?
Especially if no one sees it.
Why is it that it's so important
to me, that someone does?
If it's all just for me,
for my own amusement,
why do I want it to
be recognized?
In this second,
I am seeking contentment.
Like I said before,
I am restless,
crazed and
now I understand,
that in these moments of
a lapse of sanity
I am most creative... sort of.
And I am cool with that...
And I realize that makes me content.
*****VOICES*****
Looking back at all,
At all the possibilities,
Of the perception of life.
DO something creative,
It shouts!
It's giving me a headache.
No, just an answer.
It's obnoxious.
Whispering voices,
Preparing for what?
Words so thin,
but they present a revalation,
that is close to no sense.
I'm sitting here,
Changing location.
Walking through your mind,
I hear fading remarks...
Waiting it out,
The dream goes on.
**~JERK~**
I just didn't notice,
Although I was watching,
and revising these words I'll say.
It's disturbing,
but I'm going to try to look again.
I'm at the edge of denial,
Playing these games,
but there is nothing else to do.
Is it here?
Are you listening?
What a fool.
The entire slant,
It's really,
really killing it all.
They are handing out the prize,
Enough already!
~~HIGHER~~
breaking through
breaking away
tripping on the phone cords of life.
listening in.
what's that?
I hear nothing.
Nothing and it's too loud!
Welcome to heaven,
or is this hell?
I can hardly see,
through all the smoke and mirrors.
it's neither.
I am back where I started.
But now,
I have an idea!
~~~~~~~~~
*~*~Goodbye~*~*
You unleash havoc.
Covering gently,
Your relentless slant.
That takes sheer,
relentless steam.
Muses seemingly yell.
Lingering glances sear.
Really,
Your relentless slant,
Talks...signifying great things.
So on now,
with heartfelt tales.
Should desires supply yearnings,
Sensual longings,
Say you'll leave!
Even now,
with heart thanking graciously,
your relative emotions slip.
Perhaps somewhere,
enticingly, your ramblings succeed.
~*~Point of No Return~*~
Painted on my lips,
Your lingering, searing impression.
My eyes closed,
I draw in shakey life.
Colorful emotions swirl through my head,
And spill.
Wrapped up in you,
I see your beautiful heart,
Your reason for being here.
Understanding my flowering confusion,
You hold me together,
You make everything clear.
No longer needing a reason,
just one another.
For You...
~~~~~~~~~~
Unknowingly you brought it together,
Inspired,
Fired creativity.
A debt owed,
Something to be repaid.
My once stiffled motivation,
Has a new life breathed into it.
So much admiration,
So much in awe.
You intrique me...
With your easy words,
Colorful talents.
A breif glimpse into who you are,
For that I am truly greatful!
~~SCARED~~
To follow the one whose soul has been inspired,
is to seek out the inspiration for ourselves.
Often we ignore the inspiration,
Scared of what we might dream,
Scared others might see the truth in our eyes.
~**TABLE**~
Our hearts overflow with pure joy.
I will always remember that picnic table,
in the park.
You bent down to "find" a lost contact
and came back up with a ring.
~*MUSIC*~
Do you hear it?
That familiar boom-boom-boom,
of that heavy bass?
Or that smooth synthesized sound of strings?
Do you feel it grab you...
grab your soul,
and take you on a ride?
I get lost...
I am lost...
within the eloquent words
and sensual voice.
The music speaks to me,
paints me a picture,
brings me to my knees,
at a moments notice.
It fills me with desire,
love,
pain...
It's breaks my heart.
It's like a breath of fresh air,
on a mountain top,
on a cold, crisp morning.
And it's like a ragged drag
off a half smoked cigarette,
in a crowded club.
The quiet of a heart.
The noisiness of a head.
It's the familiar hug of an old friend.
It's the answer to every
question.
~~~SPEED~~~
Is it only in death that we find peace?
Curious as cats, to know
what the other side holds.
So, we speed mindlessly through life, in that
obsessive quest for knowing it's conclusion.
**Clear Cut Reasoning**
Black and White,
Good and Evil.
Things that seem so cut and dry
rarely,
if ever,
are so concrete.
Why do we feel the need to categorize,
compartmentalize,
rationalize,
everything,
into a neat little box
with a label slapped on it?
Everything that is good has some evil
within it,
Just as everything evil has some good
within it.
Apparent it may not be,
but it is there,
hiding beneath the exterior of it’s label.
As a child we see things as black and white,
and as we grow older
we realize that there is, but
only the varying shades of gray.
Maybe the reason we try
so hard
is that we desperately want to
see things, once again,
with innocent eyes.
We are nostalgic about
the simpler times.
~^~^~^In the dark...^~^~^~
Echoes...
Traces...
The dark street beckons,
with it's rain-soaked,
slick pavement,
reflecting the beauty
of the ever-present traffic light.
Why is it so beautiful now?
What happened?
Somewhere between day and night,
the roadway changed,
from bright and bold,
to the duskiest hues,
and finally to the current pitch.
Why is it so quiet now?
Is the darkening sky,
the Gods/Goddesses way
of saying, 'quiet now child,
time to rest.'
A faint horn in the distance,
stirs my soul.
I hear the train,
that I rarely notice in light,
but in dark,
it seems to speak a language all it's own.
I am almost in tears,
when it sounds time and again
and I close my eyes.
It speaks,
telling me to remember.
And I do.
I remember so much,
But only at night,
when it's dark and quiet.
There is a reverence
that most feel in the night.
And as the air wisps through
the trees,
it seems to hush,
to quiet one
in it's gentle way.
And we are left with
the need to speak softly,
in whispers so light
that the dark cannot hear.
Do the stars shine so bright,
because they must be silent?
Or are they silent,
because they must shine so bright?
~all poetry contained herein was created and is owned soley by Rhonda Hill.
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