Footprints

Footprints in the dirt
by the train tracks leaving town
friends spending time
waiting to get out or waiting to stay stuck

Footprints in the snow
just passing through
I’ll be gone before you know
unless you are with me

Footprints in a flowerbed
left while picking flowers
smelling summer but
it is still only spring

Footprints in the wet sand
until a wave comes by
the summer begins to wrap up
people returning from trips

Footprints in the leaves
that fell from the trees
along the path to school
oranges and yellow turn to brown

Footprints in the snow again
a man with a carrot nose
footprints and covered by more snow
more footprints that melt away

Footprints by the flowers again
a gardener yells to get out his plants
silly teenagers he thinks they ruin everything
but they run away and all that’s left are the marks

Footprints in the sand again
flip flops, ice cream, denim shorts
the prints are washed away by ocean
but the ghosts stay behind

Footprints by the tracks
still killing time
still waiting to get out
still hoping not to get stuck

Pain

What is pain?
Is it the sting of an insect?
Or the burn of fire?
Is it the cut of a knife?
Or a heart that broke?
Is pain grief for a loss?
Is pain everything?
Does it have a real meaning?
Or is pain something
one can only have a grasp on
when they are in it?
Can you explain pain to someone
who hasn’t experienced it?
Can you tell them how it feels?
I can’t find the words for it.
Can you?
I think pain can’t be measured
if the cause is gone.
Can you remember pain?
I can remember being in pain
but not how it felt.
I can tell you it hurt
but I can bring to mind
how it hurt?
Was it a sting?
A burn?
A cut?
I can’t seem to tell you.
Was my first crush rejecting me a sting?
Was it a jab?
Was it a jolt?
Can you tell me?

It Has to be me

I lost a friend to an overdose
he did not know
exactly how much
he touched my life
at the time of his death
Lying there in his sister’s arms
I’m sure he did not think of me
and why should he have?
he was dying
his last thoughts
precious and valuable  
should not have been wasted on me

I lost a friend to an illness
he did not know
exactly how much
he touched my life
at the time of his death
Lying there his eyes slipping closed
I’m sure he did not think of me
and why should he have?
he was dying
his last thoughts
precious and valuable
should not have been wasted on me

But I hope that years from now
when I take my last breath
and I use my last words
my last thoughts
to think of my dear friends
they know that they helped me
that they changed me
that thoughts of them got me through

I survived my father’s rage
and my mother’s hate
I survived the broken hearts
and the fighting words
and the unbearable pain
because they didn’t
they didn’t survive
and i owe it to them
that one of us does
and since they are gone
it has to be me

The Waves

The waves wash to shore gently
but they have power behind them
they come to shore day after day
with a simple elegance that can not be changed
it can not be replaced
nor can it ever be stopped
The waves are simply there
and they have been there
and they will be there for years
one little girl, small, holding her father’s hand
dipping her feet in the waves
the same girl, older, braver
swimming far out into the ocean
with a blue board to catch a wave
and to take it back to shore
the same girl, now much older
in a pink bikini wading in the water
an arm holds the bathing suit on
when the waves try to steal it away
The girl who gets out of the water
to work on a tan and to flirt with boys
And the same girl now really a woman
in a wedding dress, laughing, smiling
taking pictures with her new husband
now she has her own little girl
and the cycle starts yet again
a life with a backdrop of waves
and the waves never change
they are always there
following the same patterns

Mispoken

Words that have no meaning

Circling like snakes

Making everything worse

They do not offer comfort

They do not fix mistakes

Circles around circles

Solving nothing

Ruining everything

Mistakes are remembered

Words that have no meaning

Want a poem?

If you want a poem written for a loved one or special occasion and you like my style I can write one for you. Please email me at dietcokeaddict1997@gmail.com for more information. I promise that the prices will be extremely reasonable.

Future

The shore, the dock, the lawn

The lights rose with a glow

So it began

Us with a vast future

Once began

With him

Where the trees

Had once rose

Shadowy, old

Must have mattered

So us against the future

That must begin

Faster and further

Once contemplation

Faster and further

The future

One desired

Began gradually

Lights the future

Once could have

The Life of Words

Pen down on paper

Words flow down

Forget they were there

Shadows lurk behind

Now visible, on paper

I knew they were there

Tucked behind memories

Words that push away the pain

The remembered forgetten

The life behind the life

The hidden world

The life I lived while living

It’s there

I always feel it back there

I always try to forget it

But the life, the words are there

I can’t forget them

I can’t ignore them

I can’t change them

Just listen

All I can do

All I will do

Is write and listen

And write and listen

And hope that from the words

Something will change

And

Something will fix itself

Traveling and Missing You

Trapped in the middle of a 14 passenger van

Every minute going farther from you

Already missing you

Really missing you

I hate traveling

Listening to music

Still hate traveling

Stopped for lunch

Still hate traveling

Still missing you

Want to turn around

Know I can’t turn around

Missing you like crazy

Looking out window

Missing you unbearably

Have to get out of here

Tired of my music

Missing you insanely

Car ride is over

Still missing you

Ring

The cold, hard metal

A gold circle on her hand

Is it the ring that keeps her here?

With a broom in her hand

And dinner on the stove

Does it hold her prisoner?

Like the bracelets

In the station in town

A smooth, round design

Locks her into a pattern

Looking out the window

With dishes in the sink

Washing plates like the dirt

Caked in his palms

Will she shed the ties?

Break the circle and leave

But life in a small town

Is all she knows

And perhaps all she ever will know

And so the circle goes

A little town and the sting

Of the heartbreak

But the dinner is ready

And then more dishes to wash

Welcome!

Hi everyone!

This blog is where I post my poetry. I’ve been writing poems since sixth grade when an English teacher showed me a poem and I realized it was nothing like what I thought a poem was. I thought a poem was something that had to follow a very strict very set structure. After I realized that poems and poetry doesn’t have any rules that limit your creativity I started writing poems. When I switched schools six months later my English teacher encouraged me to write even more poetry. She also helped me find a poetry contest in my area and I won second place.  As I wrote poetry I decided that I needed another way to display my poetry and that’s why I started this blog. I help you enjoy and feel free to comment on any of my poems.

Thanks

S