Posted in artsy stuff, bugaboos, creativity, individuality, life, Personal, poetry

9/23: The Rebel

Standing back.
Apart from the crowd.
Distanced by social
Expectations.
Not welcome
In a sea of
Monotony.

Be me.
No one else.
But not
TOO
Much
Or no one will
Accept you.

Stand in the center
Spotlight shining on you.
They walk past.
Around.
Not coming close.
Why?
Too different.
Too out of place.

Destined to
Be.
Wholly alone
In a sea of monotony.
The rebel
Being
True to
Herself.
No one else.

~APA 2017

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Posted in bugaboos, community, creativity, dreams, faith, feminism, gender, health, life, Personal, poetry, society, tattoo

9/22: When I am Old…

I’ll be turning 45 in a little over a week, and I read an article earlier today about older beautiful women which prompted me to make the status in the image above on FB.

When I am old
I will dye my hair purple.
But probably only the mohawk. 
I'll be proud to be grey.
When I grow old
I will say 
FUCK!
As loud as I damn well 
Please.
Growing old is 
NOT
For wimps.
I am not a wimp
Therefore,
I WILL grow old. 
I will wear bright colors.
And mismatched socks.
And no matter what
I'll still say SHIT a lot.
I will be the old lady
With the NERF gun pointed
At the kids crossing my yard.
But have cookies and soda for them
When they return to apologize.
They say to grow old gracefully.
I will grow old
However I damn well please.
Likely raising Hell 
My dress flapping in the breeze. 
I will be the one
Others gossip about.
Without a care in the world
Refusing to bow out.
With my purple mohawk 
And greying sides,
Wrinkled tattoos and
Still watching the tides.
I'll eat what I want
And do as I please.
For no one can take
My freedom from me.

~APA 2017

Posted in crowdfunding, depression, empath life, faith, life, peace, poetry, storage, urgent

9/13: Good & Bad

(Midnight poetry. Still #crowdfunding as well. Spread the word.)

It doesn’t matter
Who
You
THINK
You
Are.
All have
Good
&
Bad days.
Learn from
Each and
Every
Moment.
Live without
Fear.
Be who you
Wish to be.
Do not wait for
Another
To find yourself and
Happiness.
Peace within
Brings peace around you.
Forget perfection.
Be the best YOU can be
Stop comparing
To others.
Learn from your
Good and Bad days.
When you choose to learn,
Fear weakens within.
Then LIFE can truly
Begin.

~A

Posted in anxiety, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, grad school, homeless, job hunting, life, Personal, poetry, semicolon, storage, urgent, writing

9/8: Stand Still

(#crowdfunding as usual. I wasn’t intending to post a poem, but the words and the image in my mind wouldn’t go away. This is how I feel right now. Unedited. Unsure.)

Brace myself.
The wind may come
Unexpectedly.
Knocking me down.
Frozen.
Stuck.
I cannot turn around.
Things to do but nothing
Propels me
Forward.
One path blocked.
I look down another seemingly
Open path.
So many hurdles
Hidden.
The fog keeps them a secret.
Another path.
Alas, too steep to climb.
Another washed out.
Where do I go?
I stand still.
Unsure of my path.
At a
Standstill.

~A

Posted in creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, empath life, faith, life, poetry, storage, urgent

9/6: The Flame

It holds fast,
One lonely flame
Surrounded by giants.
Guardians of peace.
It keeps alive to fulfill
The wishes whispered
Into its flame.
Its purpose is served.
Quiet prayers
Words meant for
No one but
The Powers that be.
And as the flickering of the flame
Signifies the dying of its light,
The slow death of one
Inspires
Another to awaken
To life.

~APA

Posted in activism, anxiety, community, crowdfunding, depression, homeless, life, Personal, poetry, storage

8/24: Still Human

Seek out the
Invisible.
Stop averting your
Gaze.
They… we
Are your
Equals.
Still human.
Just living a different path
Than you.
I am no different than you.
When all the trappings of our
Lives
Are removed.
We are all
Human.
Our differences help
Define our
Individuality.
Chosen or not.
I survive.
We get by.
Asking only that
Those with better fortune
Help lift us up
Out of pain and misfortune.
A second or
Third
Chance.
To be
Heard.
Seen.
Understood.
To live a little better
Than where
We have
Fallen.
We simply ask for a helping hand to
Climb back up.

~A

Posted in artsy stuff, crowdfunding, faith, homeless, life, peace, poetry, storage, urgent

8/19: Ashes (& ##crowdfunding)

(Still desperately trying to raise funds to get caught up on storage. Eith the PP donate button or the YouCaring campaign link in the menu. Any bit helps, and even if you can’t donate, please spread the word.)

And now to the poem of the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~

I rise.
The past cannot
Hold
Me down.

I soar.
Over the history
I will
Not
Repeat.

I fly.
For the ashes
Of my past
Fall
Behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, life, nature, peace, poetry, storage, urgent

8/15: Stars (& #crowdfunding desperation)

(I know I keep asking. I hate asking. But getting back on my feet hasn’t been an easy path. Just a bit longer. If you like my #poetry and posts, please feel free to share and contribute if you are able. With eventual stability, or at least things caught up, my ability to focus on things I love and need to do improves. Thank you)

Dreams made
Imagine beyond
The world
We know.
Starstuff dreaming of
Stars.
Who is out there?
What lies outside
Our reach?
Will we know?
Or destiny says
Stay.
Not knowing is
Best.
For now.
Where do
We
Fit in this expanse?
Starstuff dreaming
Of the stars out
There.
Keep dreaming.
Wondering.
Asking.
The answer is there.

~A

Posted in activism, bigotry, community, crowdfunding, empath life, faith, life, peace, poetry, politics, sexuality, storage, writing

8/14: Tears

Words fly.
Flames threaten from
One side of the barricade.
The other keeping the flames of
Hate
At bay.
God sheds a tear
Still so much hate
Division.
Violence.
Fear.
Anger.
Messengers of peace
Ignored or
Killed, even.
No one is
Superior or Inferior.
Skin.
Gender.
Sexuality.
Disability.
Equals
But not treated
As equals.
Another tear shed.
The rain is proof of that.

~A

Posted in bugaboos, crowdfunding, homeless, life, poetry, poverty line, society, urgent

8/5: the bubble

People holding onto
Their own needs.
Ensconced in
Worlds of their own.
Blinders on.
Walking unaware
Life merely about getting
From point A
To point B.
Upheaval unallowed.
Staring.
Blank.
Never looking
Beyond.
The bubble.
The blinders.
Stepping on the
Bodies
Of those
Less
Fortunate.
Every step taken.
Another broken body.
Another broken soul.
No one sees the
Invisible.
Not because they can’t see.
But because they won’t.

~A