Dream Leader

Follow my dreams?

No sir, I will not.

They are ‘my’ dreams.

I will lead.

And I will live them how I choose,

Deciding what compass and speed.

You will see me smiling, wind in my hair, with nothing but fires of determination lit in my eyes.

Watch my dreams chase me, and try to keep up!

For they’re mine, and a girl like me, only has her dreams.

Never lose sight of a dreamer like me, I will amaze by magic and show you the impossible.



Stained glass, Black Yang.

Rainbow perception, Translated slang.

Yin pigments, Brighten mood.

Looks of confusion, Ideas skewed.

Limited comprehension, Pulls down fools.

Looking up, Primary jewels.

Inside out, Looking reverse.

Normalcy- bleats rehearsed

Life experience, Shapes our lives.

Different steps, To stay alive.

Don’t judge, What you never knew.

Do what we must, Just to get through.





Two-Stepping Twins

Hear me whisper curses,
Watch my lips run.
Catch my desperation,
Raking songs unsung.


Frustrations we celebrate,
Like the 4th of July.
Burn our ambition,
A spiteful nose alibi.


What a game of tactics,
Foreplay of the mind.
Respecting ingenuity,
Impressive masterminds.


Curiosity kills fur,
But keeps rapt attention.
Fascination’s sweet babies,
We’re stars shooting of ascension.


Complimentary magnets,
Dancing Yang and the Yin.
You dip and I’ll twirl,
Till we wake up in zen.




For most:

The story ends

When goals are reached

And accomplishments blend


Their aspirations fade

When destinations reached

Contentment is enough

Nothing more to teach.


Or is there?


For I must be a different creature:

Never satisfied with status quo

My heart force beats thirsty

My inner fire aglow

For more adventure

My goals are lofty

But for tomorrow

Will not be enough

Stepping-stones for today

I will have to apologize

For Many mistakes along my way

But truthfully, I didn’t lie

Yesterday it was true

It was what I wanted

You see you inspired

I believed I was wanted

You allowed me to see

What I could do better.

You gifted me sight,

Gumption and treasure

I will be eternally grateful

For your saving grace

Not just friendship

But the cruel efface

Of knowing you exist

I’m forever in debt

So rich beyond measure


I will never give up

Trying to do better




In angry torn thickets,

Beyond the sway white pines

There plays a forlorn song

There calls your heart to mine


A lone weary woman

In dull tattered clothes,

Hums along to the wind

She’s lost in old thought’s throes


Sitting static and soft

Her face flush by the fire

I feel a connection

My heart tweaks to inquire


What causes her torment?

But softens her lined face?

Is she here all alone?

Her song needed embrace


As I stood and I watched

A bandit in her scene

She looked my direction

My presence was foreseen


I was captivated

I could not move a limb

She sang to my sorrow

She lifted me in hymn


Primeval tethers hooked

Keeping me under spell

Flames dancing into fire

I scrutinized my hell


Around  forest creatures

Watched, and lifted their chins

They were inside me too

I owned their beastly sins


The song began to shrink

Consciousness recoiled hot

Racked lamented answers

I cried silent, overwrought


Beguiled to understand

And tricked with a sweet song

Repeatedly disturbed

Not to ever be loved


I’m a ruined woman

Hidden in sight between

A heartbroken madness

Fire’s burnt tourmaline









The Theory of Everything



When a heart breaks

We see from wounded eyes

But what is really happening

You would be surprised


When our heart’s break

And earthquakes into millions of cracks

The expansion of your feelings

Open to expose the contrast parallax


Through craggy gaps and rifs

Our delicate pith soul is visible

Nor are our secrets hidden

But they are multiplied divisible


In hurt we grow outward

We expand to transcend

Exposure leaves us vulnerable

Pain causes us to overextend


The heart swells in emotion

Crackles the veneer in its distress

It doesn’t truly break

But it hurts nonetheless



Take all the hate and tragedy

That happens daily on this earth

Fault lines scar it’s crust

It also wears its cracks of genteel rebirth


The theory of everything,

don’t you see?

We are connected to it all

And we are the master keys


We must cleft

To learn and reach higher

Without those forces

We would never be inspired


We must live

And we must love hard

Even when we hurt

We must give regard


Our connection to all

And how this will shape

Our light source is laid bear

Our shade is undraped


We are more than just heartbroken

But fragile newborns

Given a chance to grow stronger


Our hearts are exquisit especially with scars adorn






Curious enough to throw out writing questions…

Until these past 6 months, I had never really taken my writing seriously. (Not that I am now, either! :D)

This community of writers and bloggers(you!) have been so fantastic to me and my writing self esteem. I feel happy when I write now, does that sound silly? It kind of read silly to me there!    I really must say thank you to each of you who has taken time to comment,  like, take the time to introduce themselves and encourage.  I would have never discovered this artistic outlet and I definitely don’t believe I would have ever nurtured my writing without you!

Big hugs* for you all!


So here are my questions if you will tolerate me on this ramble that I know is coming.  It is on writing styles.

Myself, I have been writing a lot of poetry.  I let the words chose me and don’t take time to plan out a structure other than syllable counts or whether a word rhymes to another or not.   I just let words flow.

In fact, I rarely could quote one of my poems back to you a week after I have written it, and in a few instances, I have been astonished to go back and read the things that I have written in the past 6 months. There have been moments that I can’t believe ‘I’ actually chose certain words with a dormant cleverness and wrote them.  I almost impress myself at times by it. ( I hate to use these words because it sounds so boastful and I’m trying to do anything but be egotistical.)

So with my comfort of writing poetry and short stories, it has tickled my brain to do more, and to push for more.

I have been toying around with writing a story that is in my head. It’s been there for sometime.

But I’m afraid.

I’m afraid I will ‘un-impress’ myself and lose this happy high that I get these days from creating and getting those trapped words out of my head into poetry. I’m afraid I will reach for something I have no right reaching for and ruin what I do have going for me.

I don’t know if I should write out an outline for my story?  Or if I should just do like I do with my poetry,and let the words flow and see where it takes me?  Or should I just leave it be and focus on poetry?

For those of you who have written novels, what are your suggestions and tips? How organized do I need to be? How do you keep yourself focused to keep going? I’m so use to penning a poem or short story in an hour, not sure if I could keep the midnight oil burning?  (I’m also afraid I don’t have what it takes to stay dedicated to something that will take months to finish.)

Yes, I know I will never know if I don’t give it a try. But I would like feed back and guidance from your experiences.

Yeah, okay, I’m done. I’m un-impressing myself with this ramble fest! 😀 I’m such a dork!






The Creek



Through ancestral woods exploring, I found a creek today

It was well hidden, but I was led to it by soft mossy pathway

Unable to resist the temptation to feel it’s wetness on my skin

I stepped into its shallows and I felt the magic begin

Cool clear water delights my toes

As it’s eddied memories slowly past me flow

Remembered knowledge of my brief youth

Startle me with its echoing truth

I’ve grown so ignorant in my advancing age

Or perhaps, gone numb with each years turning page

I’ve ignored the genius of my young innocence

Instead I’ve adopted a burnt char of exhausted brittleness

I’ve been looking so long, at all the wrong solutions

While muddying my name with a society’s pollutions

Now feeling the water carry away the dark energy toxins

Moisturizing my center, I can now see my options

If I could only stay here and in the water play

Let it hydrate me clean, and wear weary troubles away

I might be able to touch the little child, that’s inside me hid

Let her teach me my old ways, the ones before that I had forbid

And then with rapid clarity, and a sure certainty of truth

I realized this is the secret, I had in fact discovered the fountain of youth

It’s not a actual potion, or a hidden wishing well

It’s a feeling you capture inside, a remembrance, that’s the magic spell

We stay young through our heart, not though someone else’s eyes

But it’s with a unguarded child’s grace, that we are immortalized














Tree of Life

Originally posted on My Trending Stories 7.6.16
(Disney’s Tree of Life)


The tree of life

Takes as it gives

Ancestrial roots

That time forgives


Gathered in sustenance

Yin verses yang of time

Growing shade for shelter

Roots strengthen lifetimes


We water it’s knowledge

Waxed thoughts nostalgic

Bringing in new growth

Branching offspring magic


It’s where we are from

That we reflect at the end

Remembering our lessons

And love of our kin






Classic Style

It had been moments, Almost too long  (note the ‘s’)

She had not noticed, The grin of pavement

The buoyancy, Of lighter feet

Or how, even?

But happiness, Has once again

Nested inside her.


Nothing changed, Except her

Again, nothing.

She had found peace, While searching

For remnants, Of fabric

Long gone vintage

Or rather, It had found her.


She discovered, her material

Made of the Highest quality

Built to be versatile, Multi-purpose

Was of a lasting worth,


It exemplified class



It was the extract of survivor’s,

Not of a victim’s.

Learning to evolve

Learning to grow

Learning to be happy

Without sacrificing

Her authenticity

It was classic style-

her smile

And it lit up the world