These seem to be mere words on a page, but they are something much deeper. They are rare glimpses into my life, my heart. This is where you will find the real me in all my vulnerability—nestled in the raw, unspoken truths of my soul. And I have no explanation for why I lay it bare for you to see, except that I can’t help it. I can’t help but reveal all the words hiding in the silence of my eyes; lest, I lose them in the sea of yours.
Winter is waning,
words are tugging
ever so gently—
I’m slowly making
my way back.
I am in the winter
of my words—-
barren, harsh
unforgiving
silently waiting
for new buds
to spring forth
like magic beans
sold on a mountain
of promise and
traded for a slight
whisper of hope.
Oxygen deprived
Mind in a state of confusion
Dazed
Lungs drowning
Oppressed
Trapped under the weight
Slowly crushing her
Pain so deep
Excruciating
Gasping
As if to take her last breath
Cessation
Hitting her knees
Blood escaping from her veins
Like a waterfall
Her last resort
Feeling for a exit
A trickle of light
Low to the ground
As the heat is felt in the smoke obscured room
Surrounding her
Coffin like state
Heartbeat starts to wane
Insides desingrating
Screaming for a slither taste of air
She feels for an exit
Strategy
Last attempt
To escape from the suffocation
Copyright (c) 2021 Nichole Sulpizio – All Rights Reserved
There is a place
That fills you with positivity
Enriches you with expansiveness
Embodies inclusiveness.
Enough to keep your faith going.
Endowed with trustfulness
Believe in possibilities.
A place of potential value
Thats nurturing in itself.
That lights the way forward.
A place that speaks to all of you!
A beautiful place called hope!
Savvy
Thinking, always thinking
worry about this
crabbing about that
problem is I never stop to see
all the blessings
God has given me
Gonna’ change my ways
cancel thoughts so dark
go within to find that spark
gonna’ stand in the Light
let it shine
fill my heart with gratitude
let loving thoughts
fill my mind.
Reader’s Comment
How you manage to produce such beautiful works of art each and every day is something I will always admire, and not fully understand how it is possible!
Your Poems are always incredible, thank you for your hard work and dedication!
Pat’s Response
I do not understand how it happens either. Early each morning I sit with a pad and pen and the intention of writing at least six poems so that I can post every four hours. Then, they come. Truly they must be from Source for they come quickly with very little editing needed. I do not even remember them afterwards. The poems come for as long as I am willing to sit and write them. I had 20 one day when I was just trying to see how long they would keep coming. Sometimes poems come with a theme I have been thinking about, but…
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It only takes one
to start a change.
Conviction, courage,
willingness to go
against popular opinion.
The very idea terrifies
us–who me?
Yes, you, so filled with
fear, with a need to be
accepted, liked, loved.
Within each of us lies
a kernel of courage
to finally declare,
to become what we
are meant to be.
The time is now
for us to be our all,
a beacon for
others
to find
their courage
to join the call.
“I love you,”
so easy to say
until we add,
“…except when you…”
We spend a lifetime
trying on roles,
looking for one that fits.
Am I brave, evil, wise,
bone stupid? What do I need
to be right now, to carry on, to
avoid sinking into the abyss of fear?
All the while, we can not see
the glory of the Creator, who
made us from the perfection
of His love. When will I
stop believing those who
tell me that I am unworthy…
including myself?
The Reluctant Poet 