Tears, shards of glass escape from my eyes.
The lump in my throat, a butcher's blade.
Pain I feel
because of the love forbade.
...
Wrigling
tickling
sticking to your shoes...
feet, nearly always, come in two's.
...
In the still of the night
when I have taken flight and cannot sleep,
you dream.
...
Cupid drew back his bow, taut-
aimed and fired.
Shot you straight at my heart.
You landed, bolt out of the blue.
...
Out the back gate, left open mindlessly by daydreaming children,
She sneaks happily, belly low to the floor.
Backward looking over the shoulder, half expecting to be caught
Down the alley and past the butcher’s
...
I wake, reluctantly
And then I rise
Wipe the sticky mass out of my eyes.
Yawn, quite loudly
...
I saw you on Thursday, you smiled!
You were as happy as a child
With your new car, just like a topy
Given to an excited little boy.
...
I said a little prayer today
for one who, sadly went away,
to somewhere he can watch from high
and wipe away the tears I cry.
...
They say the Devil finds work for idle hands to do.
But the Devil never really knew he'd met his match in you.
Darkness surrounds you and shadows you have cast
...
My poems are the lyrics
of songs that go unsung
are the toll of a bell
that is never rung
...
Its only words
one eye closed the other eye open
part of the heart broken
the other part hoping
...
I have fallen
fallen from grace
into the depths of love
the depths of despair.
...
don't empty my soul
and leave an abyss like before
don't look through my eyes
down into my core.
...
That silent, deft hand crept slowly
into the cavity that once was my chest
squeezed
squeezed harder
...
I don't want to be a spare part
the little attachment to a lover's heart.
I don't want to be the one to feel
like I have been the one to steal.
...
Restless in sleep, terrified in dreams,
wondering what life really means.
An emptiness consuming the soul,
an unrealistic lifetime goal.
...
Interested in poetry from a very early age, I have written for pleasure and as a stress reliever sporadically over the years. It was not until my late 20's that I ever told anyone that I had a collection that I had written or that I shared them with anyone. Sometimes I plan to write, other times it's as if words spring into my head and then pour out of the pen nib onto paper. I don't consider myself to be particularly talented, but I enjoy reading what I have written and have created some pieces for other people's special occasions. I hope you will enjoy what I share on this site. Comments are welcome, but please don't be too harsh :))
With Me.
Tears, shards of glass escape from my eyes.
The lump in my throat, a butcher's blade.
Pain I feel
because of the love forbade.
Leave her and come to me.
Let my heart be where it wants to be.
Where it needs to be.
With whose heart beats and pumps
idiosyncratically.
Be with me
Barbara has put so much emotion into these, well done