Throwback: 1/29/2009...a day dear to my heart...my poetical birthday.

Make me like the first star in the night
who gazes across at the moon
while the crescent moon gazes lovingly back
till he loses his love to the noon.
When night falls again with his twinkling stars
the moon to his love will stay true,
he'll wait for his star to come back to his light
like I will come back to you.

-D.B.
1/29/2009
The second "real" poem I ever wrote, written almost exactly 4 years ago today (give or take an hour or maybe 2 hours).

Quatrain throwback #2

The lake rests secluded, protected by mist
till the urge to be found is too hard to resist.
So the lake sends the waves of her heart to the shore
but the shore sends them back for she is too pure.

-D.B.
4/2009

Quatrain throwback #1

My heart is in two pieces
yet was never torn apart
for a heart can not be broken
if it was not whole to start.

-D.B.
2/11/2009

Know:

You can’t plan your future, you can’t change your past
You can try to change now but moments go fast.
You can sit there and ponder the roads you can take,
You can wonder “What if?” till you’re blue in the face.
I can’t make a difference, I can’t take your place,
I can try to advise you but we know it’s a waste.
I can listen to you as you sit on you ass
I can space out while “listening” till your complaining has passed.
You will never know all, you will always know something,
You will make it ok if you just keep on marching.
You will take it as well as your ignorance can
You will eat all the lies till the truth hits the fan.
I will always nag you, I will be a mule,
I will fail every time but this is just what I do.
I will take the time I need without rushing
I will not watch you fall as I sit and do nothing.

-D.B.
4/24-25/2012, 1/17/2012

this is what it's like to break

you feel the rain hit your heart,
nothing happens.
trying to slice through rock
but it's only sweet water.
so the rain pounds faster,
still no luck.
a nagging feeling is all it leaves,
discomfort at worst.
so the rain makes way to hail
still nothing.
though the hail does not break,
neither does the rock.
so hail gives way to lightning.
there's a chance.
it does not hit the rock.
the rock remains uncracked,
the elements seem destined for defeat.

until you look at the big picture.

look at the rain.
it pools around the rock,
nearly drowning it.
look at the hail.
some melts and deepens the pool
some lingers,
lasting reminders of despair.
look at the lightning,
it misses the rock
but why?
its target was water
and with the elements combined
you see the rock give in,
a cold and hardened mess of me
drowning
in a pool of
pain
electrocuted
by pure
betrayal.


-D.B.
9/28/2012

used up
and broken
and shattered
alive.
never knowing not to trust.
hiding truth
same excuse
covering up
protecting you and me with lies.
betrayal
injustice
manipulation.
feeling numb, no longer blind.
11/1/2012

fog on the water
waves crashing down
rocks smoothed by ocean
mist all around.
nothing more perfect
on the edge of land
a beautiful story
a beautiful plan.

-D.B.
10/2012

hurricane

a turbulence inside of me
instead of perfect peace
all these thoughts
they won't agree
and once again,
i'm lost

-D.B.

10/29/2012

When handed white paper i (series poem 1)

never understood
abstract
it wasn't my thing
I was very technical
I saw straight lines and I followed them.
I never saw the point in
creating something
from the heart.
Keep what is in the heart
Inside of the heart.
Do not let it out.
Now
I let it all
out
with colors
flying
through the air
purple
on my paper
swirling into
spirals
like my life
with a backdrop of
orange
to show the
fires
i have set
friendships
i have
burned.
when handed white paper i (series poem 2)

-me
5/1-10/2012

Wanted: Hope.

it all comes crashing down on you,
future
past
and present.
like waves of water drowning you,
they slam
they crush
they pound.
there's no escaping so it seems,
you're trapped
you're broke
it's hopeless.
time, it goes so rapidly,
one blink
one breath
it's gone.

-D.B.
10/12/12

*Remember: God will never leave you alone during this hopelessness and He will make sure that you are raised up out of it when you truly cannot take it anymore.

Leaves (Part 1)

You held them in your hands,
those leaves,
my trust, my love, my honesty.
"They're fragile things," I said.
"Those leaves,
they tend to tear too easily."
You said to me,
"Those leaves,
they'll be forever in my heart."
And so I let you hold
those leaves,
remember this, our start?
But then you took
those leaves,
And yes, in your heart they went,
but you forgot about
those leaves
And all that they had meant.
I found the first,
my trust,
and you had ripped it all apart,
and then you watched
my trust
in you gradually depart....

-D.B.
4/20-21/2010, 9/26/2012

Leaves (Part 2)

Then when nudged by
my love
you thought it best ignored.
And thus, neglected felt
my love
and that great leaf was torn.
And now you see
my honesty,
but what to do with this?
How to take
my honesty
and crush it in your fist?
You try and try but
my honesty,
resilient in its youth,
can't be but
my honesty
though I left it all to you.
But, my dear, when all
those leaves
of trust and love are gone,
the one that's left,
my honesty,
will not last for too long.
The edges of
my honesty
with time will start to tear,
and then all of
my honesty
will die when I can't care.

-D.B.
4/20-21/2010, 9/26/2012

to you. (Part 2/2)

...I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is less than you have done for me, mother.
I am grateful.
You gave me away out of love, so
I like to think.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is hard; I do not think about you.
We are not stereotypes.
I have cried about it once and I
have not worried since.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which was bound to happen eventually.
I am not upset.
For a poet with my past, this is just
an occupational hazard.
I will never write to you.
But I have tried to write about you.
Which I hope you understand.
This is not a letter.
This is meant to be about you, it is not
to you.

-D.B.
4/26-27/2012

to you. (Part 1/2)

I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is less than can be said for mom.
She raised me.
God bless her soul and send her
straight to heaven.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is less than can be said for dad.
He is my hero.
I have always been daddy's
tomboy princess.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is far less than can be said for big brother.
He is my soldier.
No matter what life throws at us, I have
always loved him.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is more than can be said for father.
I do not know him.
The poor man crosses my mind
less than you.
I will never write to you.
But I am trying to write about you.
Which is more than can be said for siblings.
They might exist.
By my own choosing, I
will never know....

-D.B.

grey clouds
smudged on a canvas of blue
soft as the sand.
a lazy artist
swirling the murk to life,
formless but living.
shafts of grey
slide to a mirror surface,
feet stepping on each other.
the ocean,
undulating to unheard rhythms,
a blend of swirls and ripples.
grey clouds
set free in waves and foam,
dancing to the shore.

D.B. 5/11-12/2012