disclosure

small and meek
little lines broke
across the screen
as I began to choke.

words and images
writing my life.
ages of pages
and closure to strife.

change the thinking
wounded and bled...
cuts still healing
I'm more than what's left.

goofy and a
self proclaimed nerd
trying not to be
one of the herd.

silly and serious
maybe a lil flirtatious...
somewhat mysterious...
souls are salacious!

intelligence brewing
smiles and sparkle
heart forever renewing
and love for the carnal.

beyond practicality
here I can stand
freely seeing exactly
who I am.

I came here seeking
shelter from the noise
ended up finding
I have a voice...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

That thing

She's doing it again,
that thing you hate.
Shunned and scolded
in an attempt to abate

all the trappings of
that thing that matters.
She's crushing you
with all her clatter.

You pushed her down
left for dead.
Her and her thing,
for you, they bled.

She's flying up
from the dark hole
bringing that thing
thought dead in a soul.

You fight with her
with all your will
and that thing that
makes your skin chill.

She's doing it again
that pesky little thing.
Her and her
god damned wings.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Softly Wading

As the moon disappears,
shores and waves breathing,
I can only hear the song...
of our two hearts beating
with the urgency of
of my soul's pleading.

Come, kiss me each night
with the waves breaking
against the sunset sky...
My lips patiently aching
for the tide of your waters.
In you, I am softly wading.

And with daybreak upon us
my soul's promise appears
with the ocean's endless roll...
Your waves crashing out all fear.
On the shore, you stole my heart
my Love, I'll be waiting for you here.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Debt collecting season

And I wanted to raise my voice
at the indecency...
at the sheer depravity...
because I had made a choice

And then I wanted to yell
in the horrid reality...
in the absence of normality..
Until the tears began to swell

And I listened to the whisper
of the faint vitality...
of the freedom in finality...
"Your debt is paid," came with a whimper

And whispers became a loud voice
filling to capacity...
overflowing to ferocity...
I am willing to accept my choice

whispers banishing captivity...
You are strong
You are love
You are connected
You are rising above

voices defying gravity...
You are good
You are humble
You are free
You are paid in full

And I finally see the reason
Whispers filling the freedom

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Throw love out

There are days I just need to throw love out

Not in the trash
Not out the window
But to the universe

To the people...

Unicorns,
Mermaids,
Little elfin fairies

Make believe dreams...
Quite the contrary

Little sparks
Flickers to a flame
Fireflies igniting a blaze

My dreams...
I believe in them
without any doubt...

There are days I just need to throw love out.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Clinging

Every Monday has a meaning
Dawn lifting with its greeting
Farewell to a nights rifting
of stars' twinkle gifting
countless dreams and awestruck imagination,
In wonders of the universe's creation.

Every Monday has a goodbye
said to a weekend we're left to cry
we seem to regret
in the Sunday night unrest
carefree wishes and wanderlust
clinging to them like stardust.

Every Monday has a new beginning
It's not your dreams it's killing
It's the road to one day more
in pursuit of menial chores.
So take the night with you
in Monday's daybreak blue.

Every Monday has a meaning
Tread carefully with all the gleaming...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015
6/30 prompt: "springs from the form known as the aubade. These are morning poems, about dawn and daybreak. Many aubades take the form of lovers’ morning farewells, but . . . today is Monday. So why not try a particularly Mondayish aubade – "

Not sure if I hit the mark but at least I tried

Farfetched

I dwell in Possibility
as my mind it wanders
through keyless entries
Seeking Windows of wild blue yonder

Treasures open in Chambers
as dreams are as revealing
as an everlasting Sky
expansive as the universe's ceiling.

each door opened to Visitors
Now become inhabitants
the fairest for pre-Occupation
The spreading of miraculous.

Lifted high and outstretched
Arms gathering the farfetched...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

5/30 prompt: "Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!"

I selected "I dwell in possibility"

Don't ask

Just when I think it's gone
the battle is over and I've moved on
habit moves on to the field
and I am left without a shield.

Manipulation and self-doubt
come reigning over you in a storm cloud.
Innocent like, or so it seems,
just a question construed by means

of wanting to know more.
It was all I was asking for.
I sat and coiled back
and waited for the attack.

Days on end you would disappear
to a place I wasn't allowed to come near.
I lived in mystery
because asking any history

you would break out in aggression
with each question.
You made unsteady promises
holding my emotions as hostages.

Inquiry would by our undoing
because of me pursuing
just wanting to know...
is it me you want or that hoe?

She had no limbs, lips or eyelids
but her grip on you was decisive.
She ran through your veins
and let chaos reign.

I could see her in your eyes
no matter how much you tried
to cover up the mixture.
She became the fixture.

She led you on a constant chase.
The whore set out with no disgrace
to let your being dissolve
and around her world revolve.

Until the time,
after spending every dime,
you would forget her.
Yet still, my voice made your skin blister.

I would bring you to a frenzy,
you making me think I'm crazy
for needing the truth...
Words spoken to soothe

all my wonderings and doubt
with you in a darkened cloud.
My fault I unleashed the army...

I always walked a way with a sorry.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Neuroanatomy of Intimacy

Oxytocin and dopamine
let loose like a machine
You touch, trust and obey
as he comes on each wave.

A chaotic chemical warfare
leaves synapse in prayer.
Through pulses he scatters,
war wages in grey matter.

Firing from prefrontal cortex
dopamine release forces
the basic primal urge
as his sweet surprises surge.

Hypothalamus striking back
with oxytocin joining the attack.
Inhibiting fear, as he pleases
you in elegantly timed releases.

Conquering malady
with a conjuring alchemy
while he seeks greater reward
upon your flesh they gorge.

Soothe away the pain
and let his sweet surprise reign...
Storming like the infantry,
a neuroanatomy of intimacy.

4/30 prompt: a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows. 

Each time

I'll leave you here
each time you come to me.
The words on the page
reliving a haunting memory.

Each verse speaks
of all the pieces you left
scattered on the floor,
shattered, broken...undressed

Every word pronounced,
laid upon this page,
is another vision closed
while heart and soul will a rage

Single syllables combined
to form your being.
Sounds solely derived
to give hell a meaning.

Letters one by one
drifting an escape.
Each time you come to me
becomes a moment erased.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015
3/30 skipped the prompt today. Conversation with a genuinely beautiful soul inspired my thinking so much more.

we watched

We watched

We watched as he
cruised the sky
pointing the way
Orion flying by.

His hunt was avid.
Aim straight from
the darkest hour.
There we succumb

through the night
only nineteen,
and far from love.
A setting so serene

we kissed as his
arrow disappeared
beyond the horizon.
Oh, how sheared

memories of young
starstruck hearts
with Orion's arrow
stinging like a dart.

Much older now but
her gazing eyes
won't forget the night
Orion flew by.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015
2/30 napowrimo
Prompt: constellations

The Line

The Line

I guess it's
too late to live
on a farm.
Technology's gift

taking the work
from our hands.
Working with machines
in great demand.

Fiber optic,
cable ready,
connect the masses,
true and steady.

Shorten distance,
open borders,
make this world
a little bit smaller.

Faceless names,
nameless faces,
forgetting it's real,
flip through pages

Disconnect
from the real,
try to stay true
to all you feel.

Reveal thoughts with
screenshot glances,
inanimate objects
across the masses.

Feel the air
across your skin
as you breathe
the world you're in.

Join together
lives and minds,
true existence
on the other side.

Flesh and blood,
not a machine,
writes the words
across the screen.

Fiber optic,
cable ready,
correct the ways,
true and steady.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Afraid

Of what? Fucking everything and myself, most of all.

I put too much thought into everything. I can see a situation for what it is and I'll accept it, even live it, knowing, seeing ... It's just not gonna work.

I also put too much thought into what others might think of me. Sure, everyone does. I get taken back every time that someone thinks I am good, strong, lovable. I kinda believe that about myself. But for some damn reason, when it falls to shit, my vision is skewed. It's me. It's me that I blame.

I wasn't good enough. I fucked it up. 
I was too melancholy. 
Too eager. 
Too quiet. 
Too normal.
Too smart.
Too fat.
Too ugly.
Too different.

I was too fucking not right.

Why the fuck do I think this way? And why the hell does it take so little to flip that trigger? There are answers in self worth, confidence, blah fucking blah, I know and have heard them all. I'm not looking for answers I just want to rant.

Didn't think I'd share this one because I cried the whole time I wrote it. It's cryptic and meant to be a bit that way. With the wealth of the prologue, I'm sure it's clearer now...

Afraid

There's three
Heart, mind and body

Four valves beating true
Divisible by half
Two sides working through
All I'll ever have

Minus one
Cutting to the quick
One shell they bleed from
Pretty face, soft lips

Afraid of the look 
upon your face
From visions mistook
I'll fall with disgrace.

He's 20 today

"Write clear and hard about what hurts." Ernest Hemingway

I met the him when he was 6 years old. Full of energy, wanted to pull me into every activity. I was just the girlfriend of his uncle at the time but the spark in that kid touched me way back then.

Through twists and turns, I ended up the girlfriend of his dad when the kid turned 12. Never having kids of my own, (because I know what causes that and it's not in the water), I loved him like he was my own. I was lucky enough to take him to school, lucky enough to see him graduate high school, lucky enough to become a friend, lucky enough to have him confide in me. I wanted to show him, this is what a real woman is, because let's face it, his dad's taste in women through the years was less than desirable.

She cares, she doesn't manipulate.

She talks, she doesn't yell.

She works hard, she doesn't expect handouts.

She loves, not for her own gain, but just simply for the fact that she loves you for who you are.

She's there, she doesn't disappear.

When his dad and I split, I lost a family. A fucked up family albeit, with the kid being the only light left.

He stood between his dad and me when things got of control a few times. Willing to take it to blows if he thought his dad was going to physically hurt me. Sometimes I think that's the only reason I didn't get hit during that relationship. His son would never forgive him if he did.

Today, the kid turns 20. First birthday in 7 years I haven't celebrated with him.

And I miss him.

And it hurts.

I want only and all good things for him. He's got so much potential. So much good in his heart.

It's not hard to draw the line on where relationships end but when does family stop being family?

I kinda think it never stops...not in my heart. At least that's what it's screaming today.

A change in the weather...

Alone, I consider myself to be a light drizzle. Just enough to make  flora and fauna green and nourish the soil, wash away the dust and make things seem new again. Just enough to make the roads slick but you can't seem to find the right fucking speed on your windshield wipers for the moisture...it's either too slow to keep the windshield clear or too annoyingly fast and you hear that god damn scrape across the glass.

I've been out of a serious long-term relationship for about 9 months now and the questions have started...

"What are you looking for?"

"Have you met someone?"

"Can I find you a guy?"

"Why don't you date someone from work?"

When people ask me what I'm looking for, it's hard to put into words. First, because I don't think I'm looking, at least it's not at the top of my list.  I think I'm still recovering from the last relationship. It became very tumultuous...which is a nice way to say it was a living hell. It didn't start that way of course. This light drizzle of a woman had found someone that made her pour  from the heavens above.  He was strong, creative, fun, rough around the edges, loved nature, sexy as hell and he brought out things in me that I didn't know existed. For that, I am thankful. I'm not the shy, naive woman I used to be. I know what I can do for a man and I know what I like from a man. 

About three years into the relationship, we had to move to a bigger place and we ended up in his old stomping grounds. Back to the place he grew up and knew everyone...all the "connects" he had when he was using.  He went into addiction and I went into depression. He turned into a monster, a true Jekyll and Hyde. I never knew what I was going to come home to.  I was in an emotionally abusive relationship that came close to physical abuse a few times. I was manipulated, called horrible names daily, controlled and in a state of confusion I had never known before. I've heard it said that emotional and verbal abuse can be  or is worse than physical violence. I don't know that first hand but I can tell you, that I'm glad I never found out because emotional abuse is enough to destroy you. 

During the three years of abuse, and I say abuse because it was anything but a relationship, I drifted in and out of myself. Some days, it was beautiful, others it was anything but. The love I had for him and I thought we had for each other was passionate, crazy, alive and destructive. So destructive that I lost who I was. I'm getting her back now, day by day but what am I looking for? What do I want? Fuck...I don't know...but here's what I do know...

Today, I came across a quote...

"I stopped chasing rainbows when I found you in the storm."

I realized, I'm still looking for that storm. Maybe not the same storm that I had with him, but I am looking for that passion in life and love. I tried chasing rainbows again, because let's face it, I"m a dreamer. I like unicorns, mermaids, fairy tales and rainbows...but it just wasn't it. Kind and fluffy, romantic and 'nice'...That's what I am, I don't want to be with someone that is like that. I want  a fireball, rough, real, not the cookie cutter romantic bull shit...yes, I'm sorry, romantic b u l l s h i t...I just don't like it. It might seem like it because I come across as a romantic or a dreamer and that's what we are supposed to want, but no. I want grit, clever, intelligence, rough edges, dark, and passion. Don't be put together, don't be normal, don't fit in...

I want a storm that will rise and make me forget that I am here to be the nourishment of life. I want a love that is so destructive that others look at it and wonder if that passion will ever fade. They will question whether or not those two souls will ever see the break of day again outside of each other's eyes.

I want a change in the weather...

Weather Forecast

We could be the torrential
downpour out of season.
Quenching a drought with
our freedom.

A storm arriving within
nature's beast. Chaotic
rivers rise as our tempest
rages catastrophic.

Leaving nothing behind but
mudslides on the cliffs, if the
clouds would open and let
our thunder persist.

We are not a single drop
but a pouring implicit upon
destruction. Two soul's
divergence washing soil
deficient.

Let the dark clouds gather,
making them forget there was
ever a sun. Our love purging
from heaven a tempest out of
season.

The thing is...

Storms don't last forever...

but then again, neither do rainbows. 

Are you happy?

Such a simple question. Are you happy?

Of all life's questions, this could be the most important. I know that some say happiness is just an emotion and really, the goal should be contentment but this question...are you happy?...brought out some damn emotion this morning.

People say it in different ways. There are a few that fish for the answer. Dropping a line to say "hope you are doing well" or "I hope you're happy," wishing for a reply that confirms or denies the premise depending on their motivation.

Sometimes, it's just another question that springs up when rummaging through memories of souls that have passed through your life. Their presence is no longer what it used to be but you ask them in your head from what you used to know of them, "are you happy?" Gosh, I hope so, because you were important to me and you deserve to be.

And then, the hardest person to ask is yourself. "Beth, are you happy?" And this morning, that's when the tears flowed. Streaming through feelings and thoughts, lost in the joy and sorrow, how do I answer such a fucking loaded question?

I should be. I've got a great job that allows me to challenge myself everyday, learn, lead and teach. It affords me the freedom to indulge in hobbies and I can live well because of it.

Kinda. There's some things are bothering me but it's all good. Some of it is under my control and there's some things I just need to let go. It'll work itself out. Just need a little more time to see things clearly and then it'll be all good.

No, I'm not. There's this hole that seems to be consuming me and I can't see the way out. Every morning I wake up, I still cry. I try not to dwell on it for very long. I look up out of the hole hoping to catch a glimpse of clouds in the sky, see the sunrise. I listen for the faint singing of birds. Grasping on the roots to climb up a little higher out of this never ending hole.

Yes, I am.
Happy that I'm not who I was before. Happy that my life is not the living hell it was just a short time ago.
Happy that I am surrounded by a loving, supporting list of folks that I call family and friends.
Happy that I can embrace all of my answers to this simple little question and know that there's nothing inherently wrong with me.

I'm just another soul on life's fucked up glorious journey.

Are you happy?

transgressions of me

Arising from a few conversations yesterday...

The church girl in me just can't get away from the theme of religion even if I've escaped from the belief system.

Bits and phrases stolen or borrowed from a few. I'll ask for forgiveness now...

How do you see
the transgressions of me?
Is it missing the mark?
Or is it just a spark
to a flame ignited
which society blighted?
Should we adjust our aim
to avoid the mark of Cain?
What do you call
the depraved downfall
of man, I wonder?
Let no man put asunder
that which she atoned.
Willing to be stoned
for her burdened beliefs.
Not much more than deceit
This fear institutionalized.
My free will rationalized
has no negative connotation
but a glorious revelation
to have all that is within
be labeled as a sin...

A petal-less flower

I was destroyed. In an abusive relationship with nothing left of myself. It took all that I had to keep my work life going and finish my degree. After that, the only thing I took joy in was a flower garden in my front yard. I enjoyed them and took many pictures of them. I was capturing the only beauty left within my sight.

I had one good friend that knew the whole of my situation. He told me one day that I was a flower with no petals. I collapsed crying because he was right...I remember it to this day.

I finally know why my petals disappeared. It was in the madness of day to day living with someone I deeply loved but treated me so horribly. Each petal was stripped away in the cycle of emotional abuse...

 a petal-less flower

She had become
a flower without petals.
A form once beautiful
as prized precious metal.

Void of gifts to 
bee’s and butterfly’s rest
no longer sharing her
nectar within their breast.

Where had the spring lost her bloom?
Was it entrapped forever in winter's tomb?

Dropped to the earthen floor in silent waste.
Color dying in abandoned haste.

Was it natural selection
leaving her only a stem
a single stamen left...
standing condemned?

All she offered stripped
wistfully stolen in despair.
Plucked away in wishes
all her splendor bare...

"he loves me...

          he loves me not...

he loves me...

          he loves me not..."

                   a petal-less flower love wrought...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

...the beat in our chest

It's not an awful thing to be labeled as a dreamer. I walk among the clouds in great strides and slip through the holes in the ceiling daily...

For here is where we glide,
dreaming above all strife.
Endangered dichotomy mixed
with love and angst transfix
on knowing above all else
the poignant search of self.

"Lost souls" they call us,
feverishly seeking for what
beckons our heart's name,
an illusion of undying flame.
Guiding a twisted, aged path
we celebrate love's hopeful wrath.

Awakening to a soul's kiss
dreams beget beautiful bliss.
A moniker proudly written
for kindred souls desperately driven,
forever in the journey of a quest,

true...

soley...

...to the beat in our chest.

Matriarchs of Michigan

So apparently it's women's day today. Many posts celebrating accomplishments untold of the female of the species. I'm not quite a feminist, no bra burning here, but I do believe a woman's strength and weakness is taught through the generations.

I see myself as the combination of my grandma and my mom. We hail from Michigan so I often refer to them as the matriarchs of Michigan. Paula Cole's Nietzsche's Eyes has a verse that resonates with me and what they have taught me...

"Grandmother, mother, and now I see it in myself
I take on the water
until the dam threatens to break
I became a little doll
My voice became too small"

Today, and every day, not just on "women's day," the lessons they have given me are held close to my heart and are the stuff my soul is made of...

love's evolution

mother,
daughter,
granddaughter
alive in the shadow.

sing
praises
undeniable
becomes all hallowed

lament
struggle
isolating
through unearned sacrifice

rising
living
limitlessly
create personal paradise

laughter
teaching
compassion
soaring to a pinnacle

grace
strength
independence
floats a mast unsinkable

above
stern-hand
boundaries
sailing through illusion

mother
daughter
granddaughter...

forever a Love's evolution

The clarity we seek

I can tell you this...

Decisions and feelings made in haste can give you a bad mindset. Sometimes all you need is a little time to gain the clarity you seek.

My poetry always has a spiritual tone to it because I guess those church girl days never really left me. We aren't soulless creatures by any means, but this definitely isn't about any god...more about the deity your own mind.

The clarity we seek

She fades away
Heart less than shining
Measured back timing
A gold dust in the fray

A mind cannot fathom
Stop all wondering
Willfully the plundering
Of all you imagine

......Parts of me here
Less of me there......

How two exist coherently
Of a body unshrouded
This piece scoured
The gift of transparency

A veiled temple of praise
Your own narcissism
Sinful of its glorism
Boastful sermon in a blaze

......Parts of me here
Less of me there......

Mind in a bright shadow
Of a life lived in history
Amaze made mystery
Gratefully and thoughtfully shallow.

There's clarity in cascading
Coyness in beautiful creation
Perpetual in persuasion
Into the gray she's fading

......Parts of me here
Less of me there......

In her silence humbled
By a god in his own right
Shunned hideous, he smites
Down troddenly tumbled

To see above the glare
After you disappear

......Parts of me here
Less of me there......

High so high...continued

Yes. I smoke out. Yes. It frees my head. Yes. I write shit that makes sense at the time but fuck if I know what it means...

Slide straight line
Slight right
Form to design

Stretch long line
Bring to me
Direct shine

......

Shapes weaving
Curves dance
Rising, heaving
Blown about......

Breathe in

...........  ......... . ...   .....    ...Breathe out

Not enough

About three years ago, my life turned to a living hell. My fiance was in raging drug addiction and it wasn't how the relationship started. He turned into this monster that I didn't recognize but still loved.

I know that I've always had some sort of depression looming in my life. When I was a teenager I would fantasize about ways to kill myself. Trace cuts across my wrists. Thinking that it wouldn't really matter, no one would miss me and the loneliness would come to an end.

When the hell started, I spiralled to depression quickly. I was surrounded by addicts. I just didn't want to be here anymore. Knowing there were some pills scattered in the dresser drawers, I gathered all of the little blue xanax I could find.

Seven of them.

I took them. He came in and could tell I was off. He screamed at me. It woke me up slightly and I made a phone call to a therapy group to make an appointment...and then I passed out. He didn't call 911. In fact when I was on the phone, he screamed at me to hang up because if the cops showed up, he would kill me. I screamed back in sobbing tears, "it's for me. I'm calling for me..."

It's not sadness
   But raging madness
                   In the mind.
Clarity to all that binds
     This life together in
             What has been
         Nightmare reality,
Living duality.

                   1 to dull the pain.
2 hope for perspective gain.

It's not screams 
        But dead dreams
                   In a broken
Heart. Love unspoken
      In bright metaphor
  Trampled to the floor.
             Spirit's demise,
Lifeless cries.

                          3 just take it.
4 you're not gonna make it.

It's not love
But a simple white dove
                        Ascending
                Hate unending.
          This life no longer
           Worth to conquer.
                    Soul's waste,
Decisions in haste.

                      5 go numb.
6 eternal rest succumb.

It's not selfish
But escape from the hellish
                      Fits of tantrum.
                          Left abandon
                           To live alone
                Light never shown.
                   Attended her will,
Contested by a pill.

         7 should do it.
End to a lifeless pit.

It wasn't death
                But only tortured rest
                                 That arrived,
The day she no longer thrived.
                       Gray turned black
                   Off the beaten track
               From where she came
Desperately dousing the flame.

Life got fucked up...
But 1 through 7 were not enough.

The question

I was asked by someone "how do I make my way into your heart?" The question hit me like a ton of bricks for many reasons. One, he wanted in. Two, I wasn't sure how to answer. Three, I had gone down a path I wasn't nearly ready for.

I was honest and said that I couldn't answer. That I was in tears because of a seemingly simple question that I thought every woman should know how to answer. I wasn't ready.

The next morning, I woke to comments and hurt from the same person who asked the question. This was my reply...

Not to be swayed,
By gusts and sand dust.
Air ever breathing
Fly she must

To survive a life
From the cocoon.
She left behind
Willingly, all to soon.

Do you see her wings?
Fragile and new
Delicately intricate
And prized by so few.

Being

I'd like to say that I'm not bothered by people,and by people, I mean men, that love my mind but won't entertain the thoughts because of the skin it lives in...

But that would be a lie.

It's a hell of a shell
This brain lives in.
Continuity flowing 
Figure meets dim.

Eyes once glitter to
Spark wet matches.
A mind blowing but
Body with it clashes.

With every ounce
Of being flesh,
Pride swallowed whole,
Mind and body enmesh.

A distorted picture of
What was meant to be,
Thoughts and pictures
Closer to mere fantasy.

An untouched boiling 
Warmth grows hot.
A flash in the pan,
For this is all I've got.

Worth the exploring, 
To entertain a whim.
It's a hell of a shell
This brain lives in.

Few spaces

So few earthly spaces 
Untouched by the human brand.
Industry and community
Instituted by "god's" hand.

Withering away in decadence
We strive to only decay.
Ignorance of her liveliness
We consistently betray.

All that she gives us
With each new sunrise,
The soul's switch off
Abandon glory in a hushed surprise.

Dwindling down resources
So that we might thrive.
Selfish life forces,
A death to our tribe.

Let her be untouched
And shine in her graces.
Capture her radiance now
Before death to the spaces

High so high...

Elusive dreaming
By starstruck streaming.
A mind's gleaning
Her heart's meaning.
Paths weaving
To an end leaving
Open pleading
To a soul seeding.
A veil sheeting
This search, fleeting
My eyes seeking.
Her tongue speaking
A mystery greeting
To all life's breath beating.

Tranquil Chaos

"chaos is an angel who fell in love with a demon"
Christopher Poindexter

He is her...

Peace amidst the pain
Resting place in the rage
A silent scream in the dry rain

She is his...

Purity amongst the primal
Ravenous will to his revival
A hunger call of light nocturnal

Together...

Brazen amidst the beauty
Ferocity in the feast
Perfect chaos created in tumultuous tranquility

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015
#chaosandmearefriends
#poem #poetry

Verbally Vomit

So, yeah...Some chic on a poet community is very well versed and educated on poetry. She said some words, critiqued a few poems and if it was a class room setting, totally can get it.

I don't think I'm a poet. I enjoy writing. I'm not educated in literature. I was a business major.

Writing helps me work out the thoughts in my head and allows me to express them creatively. I'm not looking to be published...most times I am just looking for connection.

This is my retort...

This rhyme and reason
Is an art called treason.
My parable a paradox
Flows extinct as a triceratops.
This stanza too painful
Allowing the disdainful.
Clear bright shining ambiguity
Narrowing the visual acuity.
Structure versus free verse
A free mind, an amatuer curse.
Making sense of connotation
And alluring egregious alliteration.
Forgive the literal for not figuratively
Speaking, naive comparatively.
Running through my mind an epic
A hyperbolic poem seen as septic.
Waste laced words disgraced
As my heart I only embrace.
Excuse me as I open the door,
I'm about to verbally vomit once more...

My Garden

"So plant your own garden and decorate your soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers."
Jorge Luis Borges

In my garden there are
Wildflowers and weeds
Natural growth
From free sown seed

Roses red and refined
Manicured stems
Reaching beauty
Love's little gems

Queen Anne's lace
Delicately intricate
Arise next to
Daisies spring innocent

Lilies and orchids
Decorate with elegance
A bed of sweet peas
Their bliss endless

Daffodils, iris and tulips
Sprout eternal
A passionate declaration
To a ground so fertile

Each petal a meaning
Every stem standing
Soaking in the light
In life truly basking

In my garden of many
Colors and fragrance
Cultivated willingly
With nature's patience.

I can give you...

All my secrets unlocked
Baring every corner
Layout all my thoughts
What makes my heart warmer

All my hidden meanings
Naked on the floor
Worlds I've been screaming
And an abyss adored

All my hearts treasures
Glittering from my chest
Simple life pleasures
Inanimate now fleshed

All my dreams and desires
Floating about my cortex
Even those extinguished fires
The coals and ashes complex

All of myself to you
I can give
Revealing each hue
Each memory relive

If only you would open
That which has been closed
Put back into motion
A love decomposed

A Foolish Reprise

A foolish reprise
Flooding my mind
You and I
Watching the tide
Rushing and rise
Vast blue skies
Your hand in mine
Walking side by side

This foolish reprise
Running wild
You and I
A scenic drive
Through the country side
Autumn's colorful tide
Our canvas as we sip wine
Sitting side by side

A maddening reprise
Strolling by
You and I
The garden shines
A wintry delight
Lips as cold as ice
Our warmth combined
Loving side by side

A vexing reprise
Lovers night
You and I
Arms entwined
Legs they slide
Soft touches give rise
Hearts to each other tied
Lying side by side

A dreamed reprise
Refuses my eyes
You and I
The future bright
Thoughts of being your bride
My heart takes flight
Our souls collide
Soaring side by side

The final reprise
A sad goodbye
You and I
Dreams subside
The universe's plight
To us I brought the demise
To my heart I did lie

Away from your side...

No longer...

You and I

Just a foolish reprise...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Sometimes, you make really bad decisions that can fuck up a future that seemed so damn right.

Live, learn, try to let go...and love again someday.

Out from underneath

Out from the underneath
She crawls
Unraveled
His pretty little doll

Up from the ashes
She rises
Unfurled
His lovely lucid crisis

Down from the skies
She lands
Undenied
His heart on sinking sand

In from the storm
She dances
Unfaltered
His heart he chances

Out from underneath
She comes
Unaltered
His demons she succumbs

Verge of 43

My brain becomes as clenched as my teeth sometimes and I need help to unwind all the thoughts that run rampant. I used to be a church girl and drinking and smoking were a no-no. My brain then was permanently clenched.

Now, not so much.

Life of epic proportion
Taking away the distortion
Eyes clouded now see
This woman on the verge of 43.

Free spirit eternally lifted
By artists heavenly gifted
Heart shared willingly
By one on the verge of 43.

Rules and bylaws suppressed
Diluting all the stress
Breathe in the leaf
No longer a child, the verge of 43.

Thoughts and demons are embraced
Barely keeping up pace
Some days nectar you need
To survive the verge of 43.

Once thought sinful and wicked
In your mind they were depicted
Now your thoughts are free
Rightfully owning this verge of 43

So drink a glass of wine
For the down time
And smoke a little tree
My girl...
You're sitting on the verge of 43.

Moments are fleeting

Moments are fleeting.

Some joyous, some painful, and some seem so unbearable you don't think you could take another minute.

Some moments there is a break with reality. You're taken to the heavens here on earth and then to the depths of hell where you just can't find a way out. The darkness seems never ending. Few souls see the light of your eyes which you are sure has dimmed unrecognizable.

Those faint traces of scars you made across your wrists as a child. "Just practising," you thought as you sat on the bench alone in the open air.

The seven little pills you swallowed only to accomplish a three day sleep. If only there were two more, none of this would've happened.

Today was another one of those days. Drifting off to dream the night before with confusion, regret, hope lost. Thinking there is truly something fundamentally wrong with your core being that you could not enjoy the sweetness shared with your heart. That once sweet sleep had vanished. Hours before the realization of a soon to be broken heart, I had given up.

Loneliness consumes you. If you are mindful enough, you remember that this is fleeting. But if you are already cut from reality, if you can't see the ground below or the sky above, memory is also fleeting. Every part of your being just doesn't want to be here anymore.

Through swollen eyes you search for something to cling to. Bring me back to a world that isn't this hellish. A reality that doesn't tarnish your soul.

You'll tell yourself, "never again." But that promise, too, is fleeting.

These words, this melody, saved me this morning.

Peter Gabriel & Kate Bush - Don't Give Up

Sleepless Nights

Back to the night. Back to the dark silence. Left alone to my thoughts. Such a treacherous place. Such a mindful mess.

Constantly drawing the lines that dare not be crossed. Consistently deepening the introspection. Continuously reminding myself that the rabbit hole, while wondrous, is not the world.

Sadness looms when I'm left alone with my thoughts. Feelings of inadequacy and doubts of contentment reach a pinnacle at night. With the switch of the light to turn the room dark, a counter switch is thrown to light the corners of my soul. Thoughts and feelings, rationalizations and judgments, memories and dreams overwhelm my heart and I am left to sort it all out.

This lonely creature longs to find that one kindred spirit. To share the night sky. To wander through the paths of life. A gypsy soul that my heart comes home to. Arms that engulf me with gentle strength. Lips that embrace me with whimsical adventure.

Loneliness seems bigger when the lights are low. Emptiness is deeper when the night sky shines.

Habits

Habits

My cup full of coffee
A smoke to start the day
An end to a night
That began the same way.

Sitting alone in the dark
Waiting for that still, sweet voice
Thoughts that are trained
to seek you and rejoice

So today starts a new beginning
Some habits will stay
To get me through the loneliness
In the charcoal gray

What is done can't be undone
And no magic wand will resolve
The hurt that I caused to the one
Around my world did revolve

The colors are muted at sunrise
These thoughts are less than fleeting
But I'll let you go so that
My heart will stop bleeding

With one more sip of coffee
Now cold and one last drag
I'll get my day started
Trying to reduce the lag

Habits don't change
And the heart won't let me forget
All the ways you touched me
Overwhelmed with regret

Perception

An astonishing prince
A kind and gentle soul
Longing for love
To chase away his despair
Here he is
Before and after

Sharing hopes for a future
Accolades of love
Chains and guilt from the past
Ruined in such a short time
I left him in
Shock and surprise

Just a little more time
The voice became clear
He is your love's true call
Don't let it be too late
Now here I stand
Clarity and confusion

Only seven days gone
Already another holds his hand
Weren't we worth more
Am I justified to even ask
Here we stand
Hastily and patient

Sobbing I sat in my truck
Last night to be sad
Recognizing the intent
Was it ever heartfelt
To let you go
Grief and peace

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Letter to a twelve year old me

Hey 12 year old self
Give me just a sec
Let me tell you Beth
There's more to life than death.

I see you sitting on that bench
Your mind alone and clenched
Lines traced across wrists  avenged
Your soul overwhelmingly drenched.

Look up to see the beauty
Life is more than living mutely
Your strength will overcome all cruelty
Love your life absolutely.

Feeling this world could do without
Your little free-spirit filled with doubt
Searching for what this is all about
I'm here to tell you death is no way out.

That friend sitting in your corner
Looking to you too take away the disorder
She needs you, her comforter
Living your absence would be pure torture.

That boy all of the girls adore
With him you have such rapport
He'll talk to you about the underscore
His heart on his sleeve he wore.

Don't be discouraged by his never-ending plight
Of finding a cute girl even though, despite
Your sitting by his side heart in flight
For you, my girl, he's just not right.

Little girl pick up your eyes
Away from your demise
Don't let those feelings disguise
Your heart as colorful as the most beautiful sunrise.

Light, grace and love abound
Floating through life without a sound
They see it, in you, feet firmly ground
You above all others they have crowned.

Little girl, take a moment
Thoughts of escape can be too potent
For such a soul not nearly frozen
These words need to be spoken.

So 12 year old Beth
Just give me a sec
Wait to take that last breath
There's more to life than death

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Here Comes Ms. Evil

Awake this Sunday morning
After transmitters and synapse
Have tried to make sense
All my thoughts they unwrap

The coy little reminder
Left on my pillow
Perplexing and daunting
My mind a glowing billow

What can it mean?
What did it say?
Should I try to understand
In some Freudian way?

A short quick phrase
Was all that they left me
To ponder and vex
To some extent agree.

On a small piece of paper
In a short quick minute
With gold leaf and filigree
Beautifully it was writ

A sentence unlike me
Or so I thought
It's just a dream they say
No reason to be distraught.

Dreams as wondrous
As grueling nightmare
Some foretelling
Most your soul bare

If this foretold
In four fragments
Then all things to come
Run wildly rampant.

If this is my soul
All masks taken away
Am I living a lie
Day after day?

The words freeing
"Here comes Ms. Evil."
Four lovely writ pieces
Yet to the mind deceitful.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015


Haiku

    Feminine power
Delicate, fragile and kept
      I refuse to be

Copyright 2015
Evelyn Elizabeth


Cinquain

tears
weakness strength
  falling fading forgetting
streaming down my face
                                  weep

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015
#cinquain



Pink

Lips in passion
Intertwined
Soft and satin

Tone in reappraisal
Compounding
Sultry and playful

Lovely in hue
Combinations of
Me and you

Gloss transfixed...
Color bewitched...
Chaos eclipse...

© Evelyn Elizabeth

My god, you're beautiful

There are days when I just want to hear,

"my god, you're beautiful."

And yeah, I want to hear it from a man.
And no, I don't have a particular one in mind or know his name.
No wait, that's a lie.
I may not know his name,
but I know who he is
and what he sees in me.
And no, not "he" literally,
but figuratively.

When he utters those words,

"my god, you're beautiful,"

he doesn't say it because my frame and sway meet his desire.
He says it not because my eyes are a pale hue of blue
or due to my lips perfectly pursed.
Not because I'm dressed to the hilt
or my hair is just right.

Those things are nice, I'm not gonna lie... but that's not why I want  the words falling

And no ego boost needed
as if I'm having a bad day or I'm lonely,
because I'm not.
No justification that I've made right choices.
Each decision I've made is mine
and I'll own them every damn time.
Those words aren't for my validation.
I'm validated from knowing I am surrounded
with people already beautiful to me.

I know my worth and my beauty.

"My god you're beautiful,"
means he sees me.

"You create and see the world wondrous."

"You love and are overly generous."

"You exist and live peacefully."

"You lead and do it humbly."

"You thirst and quench with wisdom."

"You hurt and don't play the victim."

"You trust and earn loyalty."

"You smile and laugh joyfully."

"My god, you're beautiful,"
he says to me.

And in him, more beauty I see.

From me he pulls my words when I'm silent.

When I'm lost he offers guidance.

Slow to anger and empathetic.

Revels in ecstasy and romantic.

A gypsy soul and bohemian.

Has made peace with all his demons.

"I see you in me."
"I see your worth and bountiful beauty."

My god, you're beautiful.

(c) Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Universe Speaks

Waking with tears in my eyes
From this simple plea
Unrequited love, unrequited goodbye.

© Evelyn Elizabeth



Mind Blowing

"Quiet people have the loudest minds." Stephen Hawking

They're thinkers and doers
                     ...Not sayers and liars
       Brains running a mile a minute
Just to watch you finish
   That last line...
      That last rhyme
You drop to the floor.
    Thinking my god...
           ....no one's said that before.
They ponder every eccentricity
    Loudly, awing at its electricity...
                 Never missing form
    They know what life's for...
Life is what you make it
   ...love, peace and soul to transmit.
        Illusions, dreams and reality...
                 Mix with a tender ferocity.
Quietly they wait
    For the breathing of heaven's gate
        Beauty overflowing...

Simply mind-blowing.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015



Addiction Rambles

Nicotine
Caffeine
Morphine drip

Candy
Soda
Sugar coma

Gamble
Expend
Nothing thrift

You
Me
Things between

Everything is so damn addicting...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Universe's Daughter

Thoughts of contentment
And anxious resentment.
Words not forthcoming,
Visions unbecoming.
Seeking clarity and reason
For that one true beacon
Of light, love and peace
Which is just within reach.
Knowing "this, too, shall pass" 
Only an hour through the looking glass.
Floating through time and space
Only your soul can embrace
That which your heart has to offer.
You are the Universe's daughter.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Collide

No need to preach
On the soul's siege.
We'll ever know
Condemned sorrow.
Our spirits forbid
To lamely lay timid.
To continue wanting
All love's haunting.
Never hardened to stone,
Forgiveness ever atone.
Hearts are meant to fly,
Colliding with the sky.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

She is me

Trees will always hold special for me

We meet...

An awkward silence
Like lovers after the rain.
An inward glance
Nothing feels the same...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015


Here and There

She was there when you were feeling blue,
When life fell through.
She was there to pick up the pieces.
Your mind she eases.
She was there to fill the void,
After the heart was destroyed.
She was there to spark the fervor.
To be the next click of the cursor.
She was there to become your next
Upon a pedestal of gold flex.
She was there to calm your fears.
Eradicating the tears...

That all too soon disappeared

Vanishing to thin air
She was there..

I am here.

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015

Submissive missives 2 - Queen Set Afire

Leathery tendrils
Soft tentacles
Reaching voracity
Displayed pageantry
Muting the snap
Flesh a gap
Lips silently wept
Passions erupt
Behind me he roars
My sweet dirty whore
Collapsed begging
Thighs forced spreading
His prized possession
Him, her only obsession
Her body he owns
Sir upon his throne
Of primeval desire
His queen set afire

Some days

It's amazing to me that some days I can miss something that was never mine.

This lump in my throat

All the rage that is not quenched
This loneliness is gathered.
Screaming to be let loose.
Just one more time.

This tempest in all its madness
Down pour on the verge
A moment of chaos in time
Passionate misgivings run wild

It has all settled in comfortably
Whether temporary or permanent
Today seems never-ending
Let it come to close with a breath.

Leaf's Scar

Leaf's Scar

Life to a chemical process,
Crossings of awe and science.
Carbohydrates slow,
Disappearing CO2 & H2O.

Chlorophyll's green,
Orangish baits Carotene,
Yellow Xanthophyll,
Anthocyanin's red, brown and purple.

Residue of pigments
Making a canvas brilliant.
Limbs cellular development
Brings the leaf's detriment.

Heavy, its own weight.
Blown by winds of fate,
Sever and fall to the earth floor,
Terra firma nourished once more.

Thousands of miniscule pinpoints
Growth covering the joint
Of the fallen apparel.
Arbors embracing skies sterile.

Along its many limbs
Signs of healing begin.
Amongst nature's bizarre
How powerful the leaf's scar.

A delicate lie

A delicate lie
Behind your eyes
Deeply hidden
Beneath the forbidden
Your journey
Forever burning
Wandering about
Love's earthly shroud

Just another hand
Of a soul be damned
To forage desire
Of a body admired

A delicate lie
Becoming a war-cry
Lips display
A heart's disarray
This moment
Woefully stolen
Fleeting beyond
Soul's heavenly bond

Just another hand
Of a soul be damned
To forage desire
Of a body admired

A delicate lie
Floating nye
Sounds of beauty
Listening mutely
Metered temptations
Allures brazen
Accepting above all
The siren's lovesick call

Just another hand
Of a soul be damned
To forage desire
Of a body admired

A delicate lie
Streaming by
Touching quietly
Limbs open silently
Heavenly dimensions
Of sinful perfection
Embodied below
Lovers deceit expose

Just another hand
Of a soul be damned
To forage desire
Of a body admired

A delicate lie
Told by you and I...

© Evelyn Elizabeth 2015