I was that bird You saw flying Working hard Against wind I didn’t stop Not once Even though I was very tired I followed you Until you stopped And then I was that bird You saw sitting Outside your window And I stayed there As you slept And when you woke I sang to you…
You judge me And that’s ok You whisper And gossip And wonder And consume Time and time and time With innuendos And beliefs That hold no truth You listen to him And to her and her Make assumptions And create your own stories You never consider They could be lies You never ask or inquire…
The faces look the same Stuck on Popsicle sticks Dancing around clapping Waiting for you to dance Do some tricks! Flip some flips! Maybe do… Something dangerous! We don’t care about you Just entertain us And if you don’t Then onto the next Just stand still Let me look at you Tilt your head just…
The writing seemed wrong Sideways scrawls, tilted Different directions Non-linear and broken A puzzle of cursive loops Waiting to be seen By her eyes But they won’t be Not ever Because Written by her Eyes shut Tears falling She realized the words If connected Would destroy the world She had created All that was…
Written for anyone who is stuck in the dance with anxiety and depression. It isn’t an easy dance to cut away from. One of the hardest things for someone suffering from depression is to reach out for help. Depression causes a person to isolate and feel unworthy of life. Don’t let depression lie to you……
Written by: Lisa Listwa Blogger at: The Meaning of Me Not too long ago, a friend told me I was brave. I think the word she said was brave… she admired my chutzpah in posting my whole and actual weight in a group setting focused on lessening our overall gravitational pull. The compliment did…
Title: Why does the creative spirit dare to #BeReal? Written by: Sarina Steinlein Blogger at: Sarina Steinlein Why do poets write? Why do artists paint? Why do musicians sing? What is this compulsion of the creatively minded individual? Some will say the reason for their sleepless nights and endless consummation of caffeine is a…
Written by: Amanda Eifert Blogger at: MandiBelle16 When I was about four-years-old, my Mom, my brother Justin, and I, arrived home to our condo after errands my Mom had needed to run. We started to get out of our van when a woman approached my Mother. The woman desperately needed money so she could…
Written by: Sarah Fader Author of Old School/New School Mom Inside my body I ache The door is open I stand outside of it The cool draft comes fast faster I feel it I don’t know how to make it stop make it stop I can’t make it stop the wind is so cold it…
Written by: Peter Olsen Blogger at: The Razor’s Edge I have no poetry No song No creative thought to help me. My voice…she has escaped. On the long journey away. How I have missed that spirit Who guides every stroke of my pen. That quiet sweetness and angst But alas she has left me. In the…
