The Pedestrian Poet » Poetry

Poetry

monica — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 01:31:14 +0000

I was trying to describe you to someone
But they couldn’t understand
They think you’re odd and strange at times
But I think you’re as close to perfect as god would allow
They don’t understand how I can love you
Because the melancholy print you leave behind
Is like a bruise a scar that has marred my mind
They tell me it is one sided
But they could never understand
I do not need to hear your words
Echoing off the back of my skull
I do not need to feel the touch of your fingers when I feel alone
There is a name for our love
And it is called
Poetry

The beat to the dance we have in our hearts
As each line is stamped into our minds
A beat is skipped but it never stops
This tug of war between our hearts
The feeling we get as the words rush forth
There is no spoken word to be found
That can capture this love and hold it down
We have a love that does not need to spoken
Does not need to be felt or else it will be broken
This symmetry, this geometry is the only thing
That god ever intended for me

So how can they understand this love we have
This odd relationship between a pen and a hand
You whisper to me as I sleep at night
I write to you with my heart in my pen
Though we will never meet in person
I will chase your shadow until the day I die
You are my muse, my inspiration
The light in the sky
I do not expect understanding or even recognition
I just need to feel the presence of your shadow
As long as I know this candle still burns
There will always be a note waiting in the morning
For your expected return

Otherside

monica — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 04:27:53 +0000

Bukowski was right
With good fortune
Comes stagnation
I always thought
When fortunes comes
Knocking on my doorstep
I would open the door
Greet her as a friend
And invite her in
Into my life
Into my heart
For a long time to come
But now I find myself
Standing on the otherside
Of that door
I hear her knocking
Calling out for me
But I just stand there
Staring at the thin wall
Between me and my dreams
I pick my head up
To stare at the door
I am no longer sure
That what is on the otherside
Is what I want
She calls and beckons
Asking for an answer
But I just turn
And walk the other way
Leaving fortune to it’s own ends
Mine hasn’t come yet
I am not ready
To open that door
Maybe someday
When I become tired
Of the suffering of the world
But I know
This is were I belong
With a pen in my hand
And a burden on my shoulders
I walk away
From destiny on my doorstep
Waiting on the otherside
No I am not
Abandoning my dreams
Not at all
I have to chase them
If I don’t now
I never will
And what good
Is an unearned prize
The door remains
As it always was
Leaving destiny
On one side
And me on the
otherside

Star Poet

monica — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 20:31:10 +0000

I am a star poet for the Ellechor Publishing House, check it out. This is pretty exciting

Star Poet