The Tree and Me (poem)

As a tree lives
So do I.

The storm can be calm one minute.
The next has gale force winds.

The tree and I share life.
I bend the same as it.

A loss of a branch.
The loss of parts of my identity.

We bend and twist.
Adapting to the world around us.

We each heave a deep sigh as we grow.
Not always knowing what is happening.

Taller and stronger.
We both become.

Losing and gaining parts of ourselves.
The seasons change us.

We bend.
We do not break.

2020

(My apologies for being so damn quiet all these months. I got burned out hardcore and just felt as if I’d given so much of myself and needed a break. Not sure how steady I’ll post, but this piece hit me and I needed to share it.)

2/1: Ashes #poetry

***********

Skyline changes.
Blocking out the sun.
Haze of distant smoke
Fills the gaps.

Destruction breeds rebirth.
The trees savor the fire.
Never mind how.
It just does.

Ashes breed the Phoenix
Of nature undone.
Cyclical world knows how to
Survive by itself.

Leave it be.
It knows what to do.
Don’t rush the process.
The Phoenix will rise again.

~A

1/2/19: Waiting (#poetry and #crowdfunding)

WAITING

Broken lines of light come to me over the water below
The bridge under my feet is cold and slick from the winter rain.
The moon betrays me to the night sky.
I stand over the water.
Watching.
Hoping.

In my dream I felt this night.
I saw the moon over me, the rigid steel of the bridge around me.
The ripplies of water disturb the lights of the city beyond.
I saw this night.
I felt it.
Yet, he is nowhere.

In this dream, he stands in this place.
On this bridge.
Silence only broken by the water below, hitting the supports.
He stands here.
Why, I do not know.
So, I wait.

My impatience overtakes my desire.
The bells in the distance tell me midnight is here.
Yet I am still alone.
Here.
On the bridge.
Waiting.

Pacing, hoping he will show.
I fumble to make sure it is safe in my pocket.
Staring into the deep black water.
Below.
And I wait.
He never comes.

~APA 2007 (I have no clue where this came from, but it’s one of mine. *shrugs*)

1/2/19: The Path Taken #poetry

This poem is also an older one. Again, not sure how old. I have several cheap comp books that I buy several of at a time. Most get used for poetry and then get lost and, years later, found again.

---

The Path Taken

The shiny things.
Rainbows.
We smile and say
“I’m fine.”
As we tear ourselves
Apart.
Inside.

The path taken.
The cliff we stand on.
How close some get.
While others take that step.
The path of darkness
Luring us deeper into
The Abyss.
The vines grab hold
Not wanting us to leave.

Fight to break free
The vines constrict us.
Pull us deeper.
Silence us.
We struggle to break free.
Some win.
Some don’t.
Others remain in limbo.
Until one side wins.

The cliff beckons.
The path calls to us.
The sirens sing.
Come… live with us.
Stay here.

The path taken.
The Dark or the Light.

~A

12/30: Not Quite Utopia (#poetry)

Felines peaceful
Guardians of the Windowsill
Watching over all they can see.

Even if we lived the Utopian Dream.
With no war or hate.
One where all people smiled.

No one lived in Fear.
A pure state with no Greed or Corruption.
No dictators Drunk on their own

Perceived Power.
We would still have cats hell-bent on knocking things over
And chasing each other at 3am.

~APA 2001

(Written in 2001, but still accurate AF)

12/26: wishes and dreams

Wishes of snowflakes dance in the air.

The streetlights flicker into existence

The muted sun says goodnight over

The western hills.

Dreams of bigger things whisper in the hearts

Of those who have little.

Nicer baubles dance, teasing those who

Have enough to share but don’t.

Patience is not always an easy virtue.

It tells us to wait. Wait for it.

Wait for what?

Ahh, but you will see. When it is right.

Memories of past, reminders of pain and glory.

Dream the future. Wherever we go.

The past must be invited along.

Remember and learn to do better soon.

Those who came before were the same as you and I.

Different names and births, but same nonetheless.

Hear their tales and heed their advice.

Those wishes of snowflakes will dance through the night.

~A

12/4: The Lake (poetry)

Waves pull back
Let go.
Gently lap at the boulder
I stand on.

Breeze manipulates the water.
The leaves.
Fall on the surface of the lake
Before me.

I am here and
Yet…
I am elsewhere. Wishing
I were.

The craggy peaks around me.
Tell an Ancient Tale
Of geologic fury
Long ago.

My mind escapes.
Where I am is not where
I wish to be.
And still.

Closed eyes, trying to ignore
The person next to me.
Making me wish. I was anywhere but
Where I am.

Peaks make the wind whistle.
Rhythm matching the water.
Nicer tune than the person
Talking to me.

Eyes closed. Breathe. Slowly.
Calm my heart. Remove his hand.
Get up. And make sure he doesn’t
Follow me.

4/6/18: Stumble #poetry

Stumble.
Fall.
Get up.

Just drop out.
They said.
You will never amount to anything.
They said.
You’re stupid and slow.
They said.

Stumble.
Fall.
Get up.

I will not drop out.
I said.
I will be somebody. I will succeed.
I said.
I am not stupid. I am not slow.
I said.

Stumble.
Fall.
Get up.

I graduated.
I discovered community college.
I met my true self in college.
Associate degree. Then a Bachelor’s degree.
Almost a second one.
Nearing a Master’s degree.

I stumble and fall.
I get up.
I look at the damage.
I dust myself off.
Not so bad.
Ruffled but not broken.

Stumble.
Fall.
Get up.

Invisible to those around me.
Unspoken words begging
To be said. Heard.
I wander in a world that doesn’t
Understand me.
I stand tall and spread my wings.

And
I
Fly!

~A

1/20/18: March For Me

March for me.
I survived.
But still I live
In fear of
Repercussions.

March for me.
I am disabled
And cannot walk far.

March for me.
I am anxious in crowds.
And my voice wavers.

March for me.
I have C-PTSD.
I cannot stand being
Touched by men.

March for me.
For walking is too much
For me to handle.

March for me.
For I cannot
March
For myself.

~A

11/18: Feeling Broken

Something happened today.
Something that ripped me to pieces.
I want to believe there are humans
Who understand what being
HUMAN
Is like.
What being
HOMELESS
Is like.
My day was okay.
Except one brief moment.
That formed a black cloud
Over my head.
My soul is soaked through.
My heart and mind
Need to be wrung out.
The cloud weighed me down.
I wonder now.
Who among us
Has compassion?
A safe place for a woman and her cat?
When the world buckles underneath you,
Who do you turn to when it makes you fall?
When the help you need the most is not the help family can give you?
Where do you go?
When you scream for help, but there is
None to be found.
~A.
November 2017