little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...
pretty features portrayed in black paint
reddest lips never able to frown
flawless pale skin, hard to the touch
this girl has never loved something so much...
except for her daddy
who' yells and screams
whos hostile outburts haunts her dreams.
who scares the monsters under her bed
and sings sweet songs til shes sleeping in bed
Now look at the doll perched on your shelf
slouched and dirty,
black featuures smudged
pretty red lips cracked and worn
and the flawless skin chipped and cold...
you look back to the last day
she threw down her porcelain doll
and stalked away
her rebelious smile
lost in time
as you drift off into thoughts...
'shelooks like her mother but her personality is mine'
you break down and begin to cry
dont throw this porcelian treasure
like you did the vase
dont llet it break
like you did her
a fragile hard self
shattered to pieces so sharp
theycut threw skin...
whats left remains in the porcelain doll
its more than whats left in her
you betrayed her, you did
let her fall down that hole
little girl, perfect and crisp
her face plainly marked with innocence...
and because of you
it fades into
the last picture in your head...
of your beloved daughter, now dead.
the last spark of life you ran out of her,
black hair down her back
red lips bleeding harsh profanities
and eyes...
dead eyes...
of a porcelain doll...
black makeup smudged away...
sorrowful tears the wiped away
the pale perfection of the porcelain doll.
“I told you from the start just how this would end. When I get what I want, I never want it again.” — Courtney Love
“If he doesn’t treat you like a princess, then he doesn’t deserve to be your prince.” — Unknown
“And we’ll move on and go our separate ways. Just know, I’ll miss you everyday, but things just aren’t the same.” — Unknown
little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...
pretty features portrayed in black paint
reddest lips never able to frown
flawless pale skin, hard to the touch
this girl has never loved something so much...
except for her daddy
who' yells and screams
whos hostile outburts haunts her dreams.
who scares the monsters under her bed
and sings sweet songs til shes sleeping in bed
Now look at the doll perched on your shelf
slouched and dirty,
black featuures smudged
pretty red lips cracked and worn
and the flawless skin chipped and cold...
you look back to the last day
she threw down her porcelain doll
and stalked away
her rebelious smile
lost in time
as you drift off into thoughts...
'shelooks like her mother but her personality is mine'
you break down and begin to cry
dont throw this porcelian treasure
like you did the vase
dont llet it break
like you did her
a fragile hard self
shattered to pieces so sharp
theycut threw skin...
whats left remains in the porcelain doll
its more than whats left in her
you betrayed her, you did
let her fall down that hole
little girl, perfect and crisp
her face plainly marked with innocence...
and because of you
it fades into
the last picture in your head...
of your beloved daughter, now dead.
the last spark of life you ran out of her,
black hair down her back
red lips bleeding harsh profanities
and eyes...
dead eyes...
of a porcelain doll...
black makeup smudged away...
sorrowful tears the wiped away
the pale perfection of the porcelain doll.
one day
the clarity of my life and all those in it
will be mine to know
like a puzzle finally complete
a picture it will make
true spirits
are the green valleys
blue skies sunflowers
birds in flight against puffy white clouds
all the beauty in my picture
they will make
lies from the dishonest
form the grey clouds
a fog that hangs over the beauty
that could have been seen
should have been seen
but for the fear we will never know
my picture
obscured by lies
but knows the truth
formed less than beautiful
then mine to keep
i awoke this morning to a lovely shadow on the wall
intricate branches of a tree outside
with a few lasting leaves fluttering in a breeze
i could not feel i could not hear
i lay mesmerized watching the shadow in fleeting moments
we had a short time together
i raised my hand to see it small amongst the leaves
i moved it with the breeze
that i could not feel that i could not hear
i felt separate yet apart changing yet the same fleeting yet lasting
in a moment in forever i am a reflection in a shadow
(I wrote this after reading the "colors of autumn" thread, actually, thanks for the lovely pictures Pandora, I think they really do stir something)
Yellow leaves on my window
Remind me that you’re gone.
Wet leaves under my feet
Tell sad tales of love rotting away
Boughs towering high in shades of gold
Shine bright on my empty sighs
Dead leaves on my threshold
Blown in on the same wind that blew you gone
Frost on heather time has stopped
My heart ran out of beats when my eyes ran out of tears
Flow, river flow, run over my burning skin
The leaves washed away are never seen again
Moss on trees thick and dark
My heart has grown so hard
The lines on bark tell a story that is hard to read
As my fingers become number
Streams trickle by whispering the tale
Of how you slid like sand through my hands
Ripples on water a mirror to my deserted soul
I keep staring in hoping you will appear again.
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Ever want to love me
Should I follow the road
Or step deeper in the dark woods?
Should I follow you and beg you to give me back my love?
Should I let the river take me where it may
Wash me of all my pain
Wash away my memories?
I wish it gave me another glimpse of you
But all I see are blotches of me
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Want to leave me
Pearl Jam+ Social Distortion, dear God, please make this happen again!!
(I wrote this after reading the "colors of autumn" thread, actually, thanks for the lovely pictures Pandora, I think they really do stir something)
Yellow leaves on my window
Remind me that you’re gone.
Wet leaves under my feet
Tell sad tales of love rotting away
Boughs towering high in shades of gold
Shine bright on my empty sighs
Dead leaves on my threshold
Blown in on the same wind that blew you gone
Frost on heather time has stopped
My heart ran out of beats when my eyes ran out of tears
Flow, river flow, run over my burning skin
The leaves washed away are never seen again
Moss on trees thick and dark
My heart has grown so hard
The lines on bark tell a story that is hard to read
As my fingers become number
Streams trickle by whispering the tale
Of how you slid like sand through my hands
Ripples on water a mirror to my deserted soul
I keep staring in hoping you will appear again.
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Ever want to love me
Should I follow the road
Or step deeper in the dark woods?
Should I follow you and beg you to give me back my love?
Should I let the river take me where it may
Wash me of all my pain
Wash away my memories?
I wish it gave me another glimpse of you
But all I see are blotches of me
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Want to leave me
oh your words made my heart break
very well written.... I see from your words
I feel from them too ...the loss
makes me long for springtime and the hope of a new beginning
for us both
Who are these people? . . . living lives for greed
Who are these people? . . . teaching their young to bully
Who are these people? . . . profiting from addiction
Who are these people? . . . raping our children
Who are these people? . . . spewing criticism and hate
Who are these people? . . . creating this cruel world
Who?Who? Who?Who! . . . raise your hand if it is you!
I love it, i wish i had your talent
as I remember you are way more talented with your writings than I ...
please share some more
I remember the morning I wrote that the anger was all gone what was left was
a feeling of defeat. My arms body weak from the assault....
the disappointment, sadness, horror.
If you let yourself feel this world sometimes you just want to leave it.
The thought to much to bear what people can do to each other.
You cant help the world is full of mean greedy dumb theiving pricks.
What you can do is ignore them, know you are responsible for your own actions and move your life in the best way possible.
Logical words
I feel too much ... not something I want to turn off even if I could.
Feeling is an amazing power ...
a connection to the the soul and therefore the universe.
Feeling is the future, that's my belief.
Comments
little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...
pretty features portrayed in black paint
reddest lips never able to frown
flawless pale skin, hard to the touch
this girl has never loved something so much...
except for her daddy
who' yells and screams
whos hostile outburts haunts her dreams.
who scares the monsters under her bed
and sings sweet songs til shes sleeping in bed
Now look at the doll perched on your shelf
slouched and dirty,
black featuures smudged
pretty red lips cracked and worn
and the flawless skin chipped and cold...
you look back to the last day
she threw down her porcelain doll
and stalked away
her rebelious smile
lost in time
as you drift off into thoughts...
'shelooks like her mother but her personality is mine'
you break down and begin to cry
dont throw this porcelian treasure
like you did the vase
dont llet it break
like you did her
a fragile hard self
shattered to pieces so sharp
theycut threw skin...
whats left remains in the porcelain doll
its more than whats left in her
you betrayed her, you did
let her fall down that hole
little girl, perfect and crisp
her face plainly marked with innocence...
and because of you
it fades into
the last picture in your head...
of your beloved daughter, now dead.
the last spark of life you ran out of her,
black hair down her back
red lips bleeding harsh profanities
and eyes...
dead eyes...
of a porcelain doll...
black makeup smudged away...
sorrowful tears the wiped away
the pale perfection of the porcelain doll.
“If he doesn’t treat you like a princess, then he doesn’t deserve to be your prince.” — Unknown
“And we’ll move on and go our separate ways. Just know, I’ll miss you everyday, but things just aren’t the same.” — Unknown
you write entirely beyond your years
(you should go ahead and put this out there in a thread by itself)
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Pandora,
I like this picture and the words you wrote for it.
and a road I'd like to take
Crying to the Sky
to all those I have loved
I cry
the moments I have cherished
I cry
for some I have not known
I cry
and for the gifts of others
through my gains and losses
I cry
with the aching too
I cry
learning all the pain
I cry
loneliness and shame
I cry
loving is what saves
I cry
my soul to continue
reaching to the sky
I cry
begging for forgiveness
I cry
longing for my others
I cry
I am coming home
I cry
I am coming home
I remember you from always even before I knew you were there
the hushed voice under all others
a swoosh and a breath
I knew your words
while doubting my own
you were there
the shooting star
in the corner of my eye
a mistaken movement
a side glance with deep eyes
you were there
as sure as a sunrise and a sunset
starts and ends each day
as sure as love lasts forever
and is ours to keep at least until then
you were there
I remember your love from always even before I knew it was there
"I moon you."
"I moon you too."
thanks!!
what really came to mind what I wanted to say was
I cherish you!
but that sounded corny
What I originally wanted to say was:
"You're kind of weighty for a fairy. You're putting alot of strain on my tip"
"I won't be long. My pants are in the dryer"
"Oh. Okay."
Celestial Dee Light
I happened upon a woman
with wildly golden hair
spun in curls and waves
seemingly lit from the inside
She smiled at me as I gazed in glass
I knew that I'd been blessed
her hand held mine within our heart
this magic was our own
The tears they fell from
fields of green
specked gold and brown
they reign
Her lips then moved with words of old
'Be warm and soft and gentle be'
she whispered on our path
heavenly is what she was
and Heaven she'll return
"Ride a little pony ride to town . . . Ride a little pony don't fall down"
I am busy at the kitchen sink,
her still small voice trails over to me
"Mama this place is wonderful"
I turn to look . . .'huh?'
"Home Mama, your home is so wonderful, beautiful, really,
it really is. It's like heaven."
She is raiding the pantry, munching from a can of mixed nuts,
surely choosing my favorites. I smile.
Turning back to the sink I am hit with a memory,
the moment rewinds 20 years.
She is on a small step stool next to me,
'washing' the dishes.
Her thick golden hair, dampened, hangs ponytail style.
Tiny hands covered in bubbles, she blows them off,
they float gently back into the dishpan.
Her toothless grin meets my smile.
A little apron tied at her waist is soaked, drenched through,
Cookie Monster's face in his familiar forever smile,
drips water to the floor.
Giggling she says, "Mama can we play pony after this?"
She begins to hum the tune.
The last words echo in my thoughts,
'don't fall down.'
Back to this moment, my daughter all grown,
she stands before me,
a small whispered prayer . . . 'don't fall down'
then the hushed words
'You are Home baby girl . . . you are Home to me'
Lies
one day
the clarity of my life and all those in it
will be mine to know
like a puzzle finally complete
a picture it will make
true spirits
are the green valleys
blue skies sunflowers
birds in flight against puffy white clouds
all the beauty in my picture
they will make
lies from the dishonest
form the grey clouds
a fog that hangs over the beauty
that could have been seen
should have been seen
but for the fear we will never know
my picture
obscured by lies
but knows the truth
formed less than beautiful
then mine to keep
Send my credentials to the house of detention
means a lot to me
this came from faith,
at a time when I needed to reinforce, remind and embrace what is mine...
always mine.
Cruel World
Who are these people? . . . without a kind word
Who are these people? . . . thinking humans weak
Who are these people? . . . preying upon others
Who are these people? . . . living lives for greed
Who are these people? . . . teaching their young to bully
Who are these people? . . . profiting from addiction
Who are these people? . . . raping our children
Who are these people? . . . spewing criticism and hate
Who are these people? . . . creating this cruel world
Who? Who? Who? Who! . . . raise your hand if it is you!
i awoke this morning to a lovely shadow on the wall
intricate branches of a tree outside
with a few lasting leaves fluttering in a breeze
i could not feel i could not hear
i lay mesmerized watching the shadow in fleeting moments
we had a short time together
i raised my hand to see it small amongst the leaves
i moved it with the breeze
that i could not feel that i could not hear
i felt separate yet apart changing yet the same fleeting yet lasting
in a moment in forever i am a reflection in a shadow
(I wrote this after reading the "colors of autumn" thread, actually, thanks for the lovely pictures Pandora, I think they really do stir something)
Yellow leaves on my window
Remind me that you’re gone.
Wet leaves under my feet
Tell sad tales of love rotting away
Boughs towering high in shades of gold
Shine bright on my empty sighs
Dead leaves on my threshold
Blown in on the same wind that blew you gone
Frost on heather time has stopped
My heart ran out of beats when my eyes ran out of tears
Flow, river flow, run over my burning skin
The leaves washed away are never seen again
Moss on trees thick and dark
My heart has grown so hard
The lines on bark tell a story that is hard to read
As my fingers become number
Streams trickle by whispering the tale
Of how you slid like sand through my hands
Ripples on water a mirror to my deserted soul
I keep staring in hoping you will appear again.
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Ever want to love me
Should I follow the road
Or step deeper in the dark woods?
Should I follow you and beg you to give me back my love?
Should I let the river take me where it may
Wash me of all my pain
Wash away my memories?
I wish it gave me another glimpse of you
But all I see are blotches of me
I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Want to leave me
very well written.... I see from your words
I feel from them too ...the loss
makes me long for springtime and the hope of a new beginning
for us both
thank you for sharing this means a lot to me
as we walk upon
the
water
wave and shimmer and shine
the
water
shine upon the path
the
water
dark clouds form above
the
water
clouds in the west threaten
the
water
light in the east reflects
the
water
as we walk upon
the
water
electric sizzle hits
the
water
into the heart flows
the
water
fearless the vision from
the
water
as we walk upon
the
water
It's Christmastime Again
your words sweet
like candy canes
swirled in hot chocolate
steam forms against our pressed lips
another sugary kiss
melt me into you
our gaze reflects in tinsel
this years tree
twinkles with secret treasures
wrapped in years of gold
twinkle in my heart
and yours in my hand
light our memories of old
hum for me another merry tune
replay it in your smile
let it dance there
and embrace me
move us through the years
our lifetime love
it's another Christmas my love
It's Christmastime Again
Sitting in front of the fire
this year's tree keeps me company.
I close my eyes, hold the tears,
it's always so easy to cry.
The tears come happy, grateful too,
no sadness here I feel.
They wet my smile and make me laugh
then take me through the years.
Thirty two trees are there for me,
a pine forest of freshness and green.
You my love are by my side
thirty two trees to feel.
We have picked and placed, covered in lights,
the bubbles keep time in my mind.
Each ornament hung, a story, a first,
new memories we've made, now keep.
Thirty two trees stand strong and real
a wonderment renewed each year.
And in these trees we believe . . .
Our Thirty Two Trees of Love
“If he doesn’t treat you like a princess, then he doesn’t deserve to be your prince.” — Unknown
“And we’ll move on and go our separate ways. Just know, I’ll miss you everyday, but things just aren’t the same.” — Unknown
please share some more
I remember the morning I wrote that the anger was all gone what was left was
a feeling of defeat. My arms body weak from the assault....
the disappointment, sadness, horror.
If you let yourself feel this world sometimes you just want to leave it.
The thought to much to bear what people can do to each other.
Its a shit shame the way people treat each other.
Always move with the purest of heart and actions.
Acts of loving kindness are never forgotten, despite others actions around you.
Purity in this manner cannot ever be defeated.
After that, bad actions can only be reconciled by those who committed them.
thank you
Its a good way to live.
You cant help the world is full of mean greedy dumb theiving pricks.
What you can do is ignore them, know you are responsible for your own actions and move your life in the best way possible.
I feel too much ... not something I want to turn off even if I could.
Feeling is an amazing power ...
a connection to the the soul and therefore the universe.
Feeling is the future, that's my belief.