Tag Archives: Thought

The Contaminated Mind

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Trash dumps filled with leftover garbage

Garbage bags filled with pieces and puddles

These puddles draw out into spaces

Spaces filled with black remains

Stains upon white napkins

Akin to other refuse piled in lumps

The waste collects from experience and form

From all the toxic air and electricity 

Running from head to toe

Upon this I know that I have a polluted mind

Taken away from the productive line

Filled with worries of which I have no control

Over the flow of my life and the rhythm in which I live

Overflowing with fears of a new life lived

Why is the mess a strong figure in my eye

It takes away from the blue in the sky

Filling it with murky uncertainty 

Certainly I can change this inhabited space

With the greener liking 

A space where life can grow 

Leaves fold into the soil and build life anew

I must push forward and never look back

Pack all that I have and journey to greater lands

This is my challenge to set free 

The chaining’s of the must terrible kind

And let the trees and flowers bloom 

Replacing my contaminated mind

Everyday Poems

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Poetry can be a mythical creation that comes at times unexpected. Sometimes it is just a plane old everyday experience. I am currently exercising my writing every day as a way to grow and understand my own writing and inspirations – as a poet and a songwriter. Somedays are just like this poem – just a simple reflection about the things around me with no real deep inspiration, other than the commitment of writing. I hope you enjoy this “Everyday Poem”. Cheers.

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Cup of hot tea

Time for reflection

Nothing better

Than late night detection

The mind wanders

Fingers write

Thoughts of the day

Lead to the night

Trying to grow

One line at a time

Creating poems

Words whisked together

Hoping they shine

Adjectives and verbs

trying to find the right words

Behind these eyelids

Simple thoughts will serve

For the next idea

Will be stolen from the day

Spoken in words

Elicited from what we say

Some nights are inspired

Others the normal kind

Putting the pen to paper

Just doing it every time

In hopes of growing

Achieving something greater

I needed it in my life now

My world would be different

If I waited one second later

Through poetry I have found

What resonates my life

Notes that resound

The soundtrack of my days

Is written in these lines

In these pages

It is me that I hope to find

When eyes become heavy

Sleep bound

I pull up the covers

Close my eyes

While the world spins round

Mr. and Mrs. Particular

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This is a story about a band name that we still laugh about to this day. Our first attempts to name our band were pretty rough. But this one in particular is funny still because it captures who we were once upon a time. Enjoy!

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Mr. and Mrs. Particular

This is an emblem of what we once were

No longer do they exist

Vanished into the darkness and mist

Sent them off to the valleys and mountains

Never to be seen again

Every once and again we think of them

How everything seemed perfect back then

The sun would come up in the east

And settle in the west

In simple naivety we would live

It was all we knew

We thought it to be the best

Through travels and experience

We realized our views were much less

Then second best

We had grand ideas and no way to achieve

So the best option was for us to have them leave

So we packed up their things

And gave them our best wishes

We were both so young but willing to change

I never would have thought how things felt

Oh but so strange

And new

And confusing

This whole idea of changing was quite amusing

Even after we packed up everything in the van

There was one thought that came back

Again and again

What if we never find our way back

What if we let go and want our old selves back

We looked at each other and began to say

It seemed we were quoting each other

So we just stopped

Both of us felt the same way