Read Poetry: This Is My Life, by Shellie Palmer

Genre: Life, living life, living, hopeful, joy, happy, sad, perspective

Symbols and notes I see, I see signs of what’s to be. I’ve seen hearts, wings and babies. I don’t understand them as they appear more so daily. These days go by so quick, I want to enjoy every moment as they come and go by. In my sights of life see more intolerance this is why I want to enjoy this life. These symbols could be more than just a sign, it could very well be what I’ve been missing in my life. True friendships have found me happy and sometimes it makes me cry that’s my life. So why do I wonder what these signs are about. I question it sometimes. Life is a question mark , the answers will come in time. I still have plenty of life to live to make it right. After all this is my life.

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CONFIDING, Poetry by Isabella Destrades

 Genres: Life, Reflection, Dreams, Introspection, Pain, Living, Contemplation.

 She laid down​
on the carpet in the ​
living room because​
she wanted to understand…​

It wasn’t that she didn’t ​
know what was happening​
or why she was feeling this way​
but she wanted to seek answers​
and consult the ceiling​
and the lightbulb ​
and the crack at the far​
left corner​
that had been there​
for as long as she could remember…​

There was so much she needed to know…​

But she laid there for too long​
and the ceiling grew too thin​
and she could see the stars peeking through​

As all of outside tried to come in​
and the ceiling faded into dust that consumed ​
her body as it lay against the fibers of the carpet​

She closed her eyes and started to whisper out​
towards whatever could hear her, or​
whoever happened to be listening to her at that time​

And images flooded her mind​
and took control​
of her body ​
and her will​
and her sense of self​

Images of knives being stabbed through her back​
as people laughed at her spasms and shrieks​
while others looked at her as if she were a specimen ​
under the glass of a microscope​

ConfidingIsabella Destrades

She cried for help, but no one could hear her​

There were images of hands touching hands​
under the lust of the moon’s glow​
surrounded by damp soil and wildflowers​
that thrived upon the hearts of young lovers​

And she could somehow, make out the image of​
a school bus arriving, veiled in fog ​
and wet leaves​
and mud​
ready to take her to the schoolyard​
where all her worries and disappointments​
became her breaking point​
and the people she saw there​
were just tamed circus mice​
following a path she did not choose to go​

But she said to herself ​
“I have no choice,”​
and continued on with her day…​

Suddenly, her eyes open up​
as a microwave beeps and a child’s​
voice is heard shouting on the ​
television screen ​

And she realizes that the dust from the ceiling​
did not cover her body​

And the stars were nowhere to be seen​
(which disappoints her a bit)​

She stands up and looks at the clock​
and decides she should go to bed,​
for the lights shine back at her 1:26 a.m. ​
and that is the sensible thing to do​

She heads to her room​

ConfidingIsabella Destrades
to take off her clothes​
and sleeps soundly​
hoping tomorrow ​
will be a better day…​

No one really understood her​

How her mind worked ​
and who she really was inside​
but everyone knew she had dreams​
and that was enough for them ​
to feel afraid…

 

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