It Lives For you

It’s like the feel of a first love’s hand

On a last night together

If tears came unsalted

Would life be unsweetened?

Would roses bloom on cheeks in spring?

Perfection

Forever

Certainty

Who seeks such things and why?

Not I…

A human heart

A human soul

So much more there to see and feel

So much to discover

So much to never understand

Smooth surfaces can cause a slip

But I prefer to leap and freefall

Then bounce back for more

I can die feeling rich

Because I was born so poor.

Adventure

Complexity

Pain

Who twirls through them all like an August storm then stops to dance?

 Yes, I…

When the world is rough around the edges

Full of untamed meadows

and hidden stones your naked feet can’t bear

Find the wild orchards of silent wishes

Waiting to be breathed true

Love

Loss

Fear overcome

Exploding shields

That’s what I’ve lived through

And that is life

It lives for you.

~Trish

Poetry To The Lost Poet

I’ve left the light on for you

When love has forgotten to love

When strength laughs, heartlessly mocking

all attempts to pick it up

when closed doors won’t respond to knocking

When clouds of uncertainty

Hide all trails leading the way into a star filled sky

When you’re too numb to hope

 no ability to laugh at the fact you can’t cry

I'll leave the light on for you

When “whatever”

Becomes the only word your voice can muster

When the “if onlys” and the “can’ts”

In your mind, blend into a murky cluster

When ghosts seem more alive

than you’ve felt in years

when you can’t turn away

from yesterday’s glares

I’ll leave the light on for you

When inside everything is no more

And all ways lead to more lost

When spring catches cold

From the leftover winter frost

When all things

You thought you always knew

Suddenly

All become utterly untrue

Turn to my pages

I’ve left the light on for you

As I’ve done for you each night

Come sit and write beneath my light

My Words...

Like a thirst

quenched by

a potion

intoxicating smiling eyes
that sometimes drop a tear

Do you really like them?

Do you really get them?

Or have you plucked out a few pretty words

Flowing syllables,

 like a sparkly dress on a rack

And said “I think this would look good on a Saturday night, with my hair down…”

Some would think…”well, hey, that’s kinda cool”

But no

It’s not

Look away
 that would be fine by me

or

Feel them like your heart is your only sense of touch

See them like your soul is your only sense of sight

And then carry it all with you

So it wakes you in the deepest part of night

Because what’s inside

What I’ve smeared on this screen

Is pretty

Is ugly

Is a hot fucking cold mess of everything I’ve known

With colors and shades

more permanent than markers could ever scar a page

It’s a recipe of a disastrous life

That I sometimes thank God for out loud

It’s the shadow of a nervous tree

That you can barely see

Because you were too busy

Staring at the streetlights

Creating diamonds out of rain

All across your window

This may not be the kind of rhythm

Heels could click to in a club

But if you listen

If you really listen…

Dance will have a whole new meaning

It will make you stop to chase that uncaught breath

It will knock the wind out of you

Make you fall for so long

That you’ll beg to hit the ground

Just to know and feel its end…

But you won’t really want to know.

~Trish