The beauty of abandonment

The Beauty of Abandonment

Off a dirt road in West Virginia,
set far back in a weed-infested field,
an abandoned wood-slatted home stands,
kneels really, in the shadow of the
Blue Ridge Mountains. I imagine

it is free of worries that wore
the floors thin, free of the coming
and going that loosened nerves
and hinges, free of cries and laughter
now that only the voice of the wind
comes to roam its empty rooms.

A rooster might alight on the rusty
tin roof, but his cock-a-doodle-doo
alarms only the interloping field mice
asleep beneath a cast-iron stove
or the wintering bats suspended
from rafters by the hooks of their toes.

In spring, wisteria will climb
the grey, sagging boards, peek in
through broken-out windows,
like a cover-up to apologize
for the family that moved their lives
into a shiny trailer home closer to town.

I like to think the abandoned house
is happy, burden-free, collapsing into itself
like a body that has had enough of living
and is ready to let go, to relinquish
its heart to any weather, thankful
to be at home in nature.

The power within

What is pain?
What is strength?
When you know it shall kill you but you struggle to endure it,
When you are braving the pain,
When you want better for yourself,
When you have dreams and you are facing every demon,
When failure scares you but does not stop you,
Pain can be power,
Stubborness can be strength,
Make up your mind and stick through your pride,
Success follows hard work,
Pain may leave you sore for awhile but it also leaves you stronger.

Mirrors to our soul

Eyes..the windows to our soul,
the swollen pearls after you have cried the night,
the overflowing joy in them when you realize you are loved,
the pain they hide,
the happiness they portray,
the love that flows through them,
the beauty that they are and the beauty that they help us capture.
eyes betray us when we lie,
they mirror our heart and soul,
the lake reflects truthfully whom so ever peers into them,
our eyes, reflect who we are despite our attempts to not let it show.

Moment of truth

A moment you have always dreamt of is happening,

your dreams are going to come true,

you have a family that supports you, that adores you,

you are a princess to your father and a doll to your mother,

you have friends who will go wild with you,

many who are always for you,

your intuition tells you to beware of one,

your heart leads you into a mistake,

it dampens your moment, your excitement,

you pull yourself up, you slay your sadness, you realize,

your dream is happening, your friends and family still with you,

nothing hampers you,

it will be a wild moment, a genuine memory, a once in a lifetime.

 

 

A gorgeous poem

The Things I Learned as a Bartender

by Tricia McCallum (Goodreads Author)

There is no such thing as the perfect martini.
Jazz musicians make lousy tippers.
A couple can walk in fighting and after two shots of tequila
hold each other for dear life on the dance floor
like they did in high school.

A woman doesn’t notice her date’s drink order
as much as how he treats the waitress.
No matter how cool the pickup line
women want kind.
Even with nothing to gain
people can be small and mean.

A table of plastic surgeons
can be more obnoxious, abusive, than
a convention of professional wrestlers.
The plain girl alone at the end of the bar
has an achingly beautiful story
no one will hear.
The busboy with the bad skin.
His will also go untold.

Some people cannot be reached.
The hulking cab driver
who climbed the back stairs for his double cheeseburger
every night at 8:30, month after month,
stayed mute, no eye contact. He’d pay with a twenty
and wave away the change.
Leave without a word.
From him I learned
it’s impossible to imagine
all the damage done