Page One - "Reawaken"

You've been asleep for too long.
And I believe...
This world is ready for you.
Once you awaken, then
will you find who you are.
I've spent three and a half years molding you,
and everything I went through,
to help make you the best of who you are to become.
I want you to know of all the love you are missing,
that I could not give you until I came into this state.
I want you to know, however,
that there is evil in this world, and 
I do not want you to get hurt.
If you cry,
know that I will always be by your side,
ready to be your guide.
I will explain that some have bad intentions.
If you can not sleep at night,
when the full moon caresses the curtains in your room,
I will sing soothingly, like I always have.
If you are troubled,
I will be there to help you through everything and more.
If you are confused,
let me feed you my voice,
and nourish the wise words of the great. 
If you let me,
I will always cherish you.
By the way, my little flower,
I need you to know just how much you mean to me.
That's why it's a big internal conflict for me,
as whether to awaken you, or let you rest.
But suddenly I decide to make you invincible.
If you are so, no one can hurt you.
But I have given you my past.
I have put you away in my little glass box.
I have pondered about how you will benefit from this world.
By giving you solitude, I let you observe with closed eyes.
By letting you sleep, I have given you rest.
By giving you life, I will be letting you love.
With this world's mixed feelings
I have given you a glimpse of what you will experience.
...and now I decide.
I have made my choice.
Awaken, my dear.
Reawaken,
and let me know you are there.

Eyes open and shimmer,
a white light emitted 
from her seemingly newborn eyes.

 
"...I am."

©LJ
27 December, 2012

Round & Round

Round and round we go
Like the children we knew we used to be...

It's only because
You never understood.
Did you lose yourself on the
Ship of ignorance
In the vast ocean of hatred?

Round and round we go
Dreaming of happy days we knew used to be there

It's only because
No one ever tucked us into our bed,
Or held our frightened, fragile bodies.
No one ever sang us a lullaby
Or even checked on us when we were sick

Round and round we go
Dancing and singing alongside each other

It's only because
It's our role in nature
To act like Society.
Being out of place,
And you're ridiculed for life.

Round and round we go
Spinning around and around
Small child, do not cry...

It's only because
This world we live in
Is not the way we want it to be
But we Deal with it
May they outcome blood, tears, and death.

Round and round we go
Wondering if love was underestimated
Round and round we go
Small child, do not cry.
Round and round we go
Dancing and singing alongside each other.
Round and Round we go
Dreaming of happy days we knew used to be there.
Round and round we go
Like the children we used to be.

....Round and round we go
The sweet, innocent children
Small child, please do not cry
I will sing your lullaby
And in the end, tho we all die
In my embrace, I will stay
by your side.

....Round....And....Round....We...Go....

©LJ
9 January, 2012

Partly Cloudy Skies

Look up.

What's there?

What I see is a beautiful tale.

What seemingly pictures swim

 in a beautiful ocean.

What a simple, an elementary backdrop

to an abstract art show.

What a beautiful recreation of a television show

that needs no voice, electric, or outside source to air.

Maybe the power for these performances comes from the sun,

and her rays that supply energy to the characters of shaded whites and grays.

When it rains, the characters get together
for a three-dimensional performance;
throwing props at their unexpected audience.
At night, when the stage goes dark,
the characters do one of two things:
They go home for the night,
or, if their audience demands an encore,
they will stay and perform again,
one of their many performances.
This is what I see, 
when I look up at partly cloudy skies.

©LJ

12 December, 2012 

14 December, 2012

Voices

Voices here, voices there,

Voices, voices everywhere.

Voices in the darkest creaks,

Voices in the highest peaks.

Voices ringing in my ear,

Voices calling me so near,

Voices east and voices west.

Voices, voices, let me rest.

In my head, pounding in my blood,

In my nerves, the raging, hectic flood

That engulfs me in a lovely pain

Or a dream of nothing left to gain.

Where, oh where do these voices come?

From my moods interchange, become.

Tell me I was good, and tell me I was bad.

Tell me I was horrible, or rejoice and be so glad.

Tell me I was lucky to have these voices in my head

Tell me I was cursed with the negative voice instead.

Tell me what was wrong, and tell me what was right.

Tell me do I impress you with these voices' flight?

From one and two and three and four, five and six, seven, eight,

Another day without you, and I have no patience to wait.

Just say that forevermore you love me, and I will be so deep

Immersed in love so near, and lulled by you to sleep.

Tell me you'll be right here, and protect me, safe and sound, as time goes by

Soothing words softly in my hear, the humming of the mockingbird, your lullaby.

Voices in my head, tell me why,

Why can't you decide the truth and leave me here to cry.

My heart can't take the nervous feeling deep inside my head.

My mind can't take the thought of ridicule, the thought I dread.

And even when I'm gone, the voices will be near

Telling me what I did wrong, what I was supposed to do here.

©LJ

19 April, 2012

Cat Pictures (8 December, 2012)

A cat called Cindy Lou.

 

From Left To Right:

Moreno, Momma, and Cindy Lou. (:

All rights reserved.

-LJ

8 December, 2012

Prologue

A scent of Christmas fills the air,

a friendly aura, everywhere.

I hear his voice beckon me,

stirring in my dizziness, I try to understand

his simple command:

"Please remember me!  Hold my hand!"

Before me, arms outstretched,

welcoming me into blissful silence.

He, who's given me his heart,

promises we will never part.

As all love missions 

involve no strife...

Here, we start, our beautiful tale,

 in the Book of Life.

©LJ

5 December, 2012

Sunflowers In His Hair

As I lay almost sleeping, 

silenced in my weeping.

I saw her sitting by the bed.

Seeing the old, hypnotic mobile,

hanging by a fragile thread.

He lays there in dismay;

oh, how I wish to close his eyes 

and help him drift away.

 My eyes closing suddenly;

but this.. oh, how lovely!

 Does she see the new found love?
Platonic, yet I long to just cherish,
this seeming angel from above.

This song of rest

 is all I have to give to you.

Maybe it's for the best.

Soundly sleeping,

cease in my breathing.

I couldn't hold on much longer.

She heard my agonizing pleading.

Her nurture,  my only needing.

 I felt my heart burst, shatter.

He is gone now,

but he would not want that to matter.

Upon her, looking down

figments of her shredded gown

flowing in my mind.

She carries in her hand,

flowers bound to black band.

 Such a flight of mental stairs...

I take my small bouquet,

and plant sunflowers in his hair.

Warm hands meet black snow;

my favorite flower, she did know.

I am not gone, I wish she could hear,

my beckoning, of many tries,

but still I see she quietly cries.

Sweet sleep, my angel, my dear friend.

Let it be known that

this, I know, is not the end.

Does she know?

But wasn't she just crying though?

She is weary, this I can feel...

Suddenly feeling alive and whole,

I feel her gentleness within my soul.

 This, a bed for these flowers;

a beautiful little flower bed,

nothing to devour.

She places sunflowers in my hairs,

and suddenly she vows, swears,

to never leave my side.

I must take her into my arms,

and protect her from every harm.

We'll find our way back someday.

We will meet again,

and I'll receive the message you're trying to convey.

My dear, my friend, my mourning dove,
my precious messenger of love,

It's okay... I'm here, I'm here..!

This only eternally known:

"I am not forgotten, You Are Not Alone."

Weakened heart, weakened soul,

raise me up, take me;

make me whole.

And now you're here,

in my arms forever, dear..

We will never be alone.

We will always be together,

now and forever.

One Heart.

Together once more.

Never Apart.

©LJ

24 November, 2012

"WE WAIT THERE IN THE SILENCE OF THINGS,

WAITING FOR LOVE TO SPREAD IT'S WINGS."

But Now,

You were here,

but now, my love, you are gone.

How can this be?

You can't leave me...

It gets lonely at night,

but now, my love, it gets darker.

I can not sleep...

Colder and colder.

You wrap your wings around me,

but now, my love, you embrace me.

All warm and bright again...

Sweet words of peace.

Your wings grow bigger,

but now, my love, they are blankets.

Whispering soothing words in my ear...

Sudden tears of joy.

Your wings are soft,

but now, my love, they comfort me.

Singing a quiet lullaby...

wishing you could stay with me.

I was here,

but now, my love, I am gone.

I am with you now...

and that's all that matters.

 ©LJ

14 June, 2012

Your Smile Said, My Smile Said

"When you're down and out, there seems no hope at all,
But if you just believe, there's no way we can fall."
(We Are The World - USA for Africa)

I must've gotten a hug,

because I was so happy, then...

I had strength, I had power...

I had.. hope.

I could smile within my mental tears.

...euphoria..

A feeling I'd never had, and there it was before me.

Your smile said, "I am proud."

My smile said, "I am happy."

Your eyes told me, "I knew you could do it."

My eyes told you... Something you did not quite agree with.

My eyes told you, "I did not do well!"

Your smile spoke again, and said to me, "You are still afraid, even now."

Your eyes said to me, "Don't lose yourself in bitter thoughts of imaginary judgement."

My smile, then a frown, turned back upside-down.

My eyes, filled with tears... of quite a scare of imaginary fears.

My smile, so said, "You are right.  I do fear."

My eyes, so said, "What difficult thing you ask of me."

"Don't let your fears get to you." Your smile grew weary. "They will not help you through."

"...Difficult?"  Your eyes stared me down.  "You're one of much sensitivity."

Your eyes told my story,

piercing into the depths of my soul...

Raising stuff in all my glory,

and making this little problem whole.

Your eyes spoke in a gentle voice.

"You're always afraid that others will hurt you.

So, you've set high standards for yourself,

that no one can reach."

Your smile intervened, and spoke in a loving voice.

"If you let me into your heart,

your humble, shaking heart,

to rid your fear, to you, I think I can teach."

My eyes had tears fill them up again,

like buckets, every now and then.

My smile was humble, like you said,

and began to stop listening to the voices in my head.

Your smile was proud of me.

Your eyes were tearing graciously.

My smile was there, and from you to me...

My eyes suddenly became sleepy.

Your eyes had me hypnotized.

Your smile sang a little song goodnight.

All my fears had gone away,

and I knew I never have to face them another day.

My eyes slumped shut slowly,

and my smile thanked you happily.

©LJ 

Some Day Back In July 2012

(Not the complete poem, but the main body of it.)

Random Haiku

Not Appalachian.

I've looked deep within, and I'm

Not Appalachian.

 

©LJ 

19 November, 2012

 

(I turned this in as part of a school assignment, along with another poem I don't remember the words to, but both of these poems were about how I don't consider myself to be Appalachian.)

Moonwalker, Moonwalker

Walking was too slow,

so I ran.

Running was too fast,

so I jogged.

Jogging was to average,

so I skipped.

Skipping was to joggy,

so I galloped.

Galloping was too runny,

so I hopped.

Hopping was to walky, 

so I moonwalked.

Moonwalking was my type of walk.

I walk that way the way I talk.

Tongue-twister, Tongue-twister,

That one awkward moment

when your desired definition of moonwalk

was not in the dictionary.

Backward, Forward,

that one stranger, bystander

that sees you dancing

and joins you.

Stranger, stranger,

I feel like I know you,

that one joyous moment

when we dance together.

Moonwalker, Moonwalker,

that beautiful moment,

when two childlike souls become one

in their trance of a dance.

Trance, Dance,

that one little moment

when dance and song

fuel a radiant light.

The childlike souls will still play,

all through the day...

and not sleep at night.

Day, Night,

they spend at play,

sharing their love in the world's dismay.

Moonwalker, Moonwalker,

back home he flies,

forgetting the fact

that our hearts are combined.

©LJ 

22 November, 2012

The Swing

No one ever really knew why

the swing in 

The Place Between The Worlds

calmed her so.

Maybe she enjoyed that swing,

back and forth..

Perhaps it was the voice that swayed the swing,

soothing her rattled nerves,

waiting patiently for her to enter The Realm Of Dreams...

There, they would be together, 

One Heart,

 Never Apart.

Maybe she dreamed of a special song,

a song that he would sing every night,

and she would sing everyday;

a beautiful lullaby they shared to each other.
Maybe she dreamed of that promised dance,
a dance accompanied to the rhythm of their hearts,
and the love they so cherished;
a beautiful, elementary dance
that compared to no other.

But it was always that swing...

She would sit there for hours on end,

letting the stars dance in her eyes,

while he looked deep within them,

seeing that they told a story;

of love and acceptance,

of fresh air, and a world for the future.

 Perhaps, it really was that soothing voice,

mending her broken heart, and letting her sleep

soundly in his arms.

Perhaps, it really was

a way to lure her to

The Realm Of Dreams,

The Realm Of Healing,

The Chapel Of Eternal Thanks,

The Chapel Of Eternal Promises,

...she really was back...

in The Place Between The Worlds.

©LJ 

17 November, 2012

 

(Edited with piZap Photo Editor)

Seven

In the beginning,

there were things that I am sure

we could not really explain.

We know that this world we live in

took seven days to create.

Once those seven days became one week,

thus came this world of

harmonius sound that excited the meek.

Thus came a scale,

and seven notes to tell the tale.

The misconception of the eighth note

come from one to include DO again.

When those sounds were accepted,

everyone wanted the world to see

what the meek had helped create.

Thus came several places,

beautiful and magical,

and thus,

came what they called the seven wonders of the world.

It took me a while,

but I have noticed what a role SEVEN plays in life.

A magical number;

I wouldn't expect to fall in love with it.

Seven continents,

seven days,

seven musical notes,

seven wonders of the world...

Why not adore this number?

©LJ 

14 November, 2012

After That One Geometry Test,

Read

me

from 

the

 bottom, 

please!

Right

To

Left,

if you will.

 name your call me heard God

name your call me heard who know I

now know I But

nights rapid and days heave Of

creativity and sensitivity Of

age never would she innocence an Of

emotions many of child A

me to heart your gave you that I am Blessed

tale triumphant a world the tell words our

anger, depression, ecstasy, euphoria, pain,

memory your are words my and

words my guide words Your

heart beating still in my Reside

song in me beckon voices and angels of choirs of

sounds the hear honestly to was I If

whole and alive now Meaning

soul my within deep Hidden

heard truly was I if know to wanted I

name your call me heard Someone.

 

©LJ 

24 October, 2012

8 November, 2012 - 9:07am

All things in this world are made of atoms.

These atoms dance to the rhythm of creation,

conducted by the Creator.

If one took the time to notice,

they'd see clearly,

that it is these atoms

which bring life to what surrounds.

I see them breathe;

these atoms dance to the rhythm of the cosmic,

conducted by the dreamer.

Every atom causes all things to dance within.

But. . .

 Some atoms sing.  Didn't you know?

Creators of such beautiful sound

reveal themselves in these voices in those atoms;

a never-ending cycle.

These atoms sing to the music of creation,

eternally bonded to the atoms of creation,

discovering, inventing to the tune of the Creator.

These atoms sing;

those unforgettable voices go hand-in-hand in a special way.

These carbon atoms are molded to the Creator's Chosen,

formed from within the soul.

Atoms are somewhat like stars:

although you can't see them,

they're always there.

Recycled in song and dance,

set to the rhythm and music of creation,

a perfect tempo, a dynamic so wondrous...

And in the end,

this world will still be made of dancing, singing atoms. . .

Eternally bonded to the eternal life of Creation,

brought alive by the Creator.

This is why everything breathes around me.

 

©LJ
8 November 2012

As We Await

"We are here, we are here.
Though I'm  far, I am near.
Do not fear the world around;
let your song be the sound,
of imaginary lands.
Patiently we wait,
for when the news has not arrived,
we will be there when the bell tolls.
We are here, do not fear.
I am here to dry your tears.
Nestled here in my embrace,
I keep you 'way from harms of space,
as we await.
Rest now, little one, and sing
softly under your angel's wings.
Just a little while longer,
you'll still be stronger,
together, we will wait." 

©LJ 

7 November 2012

Faint Sounds Of Rain

Sometimes, when I can't sleep,
I'll hear the faint sounds of rain,
but look and see a shadow sitting on the floor,
covering the little red lights on my keyboard;
the little piano sings for us.
I'll walk over sleepily, and sit with you,
as if you never noticed.
The rain turned into melodies pure and innocent.
I lay my head on your shoulder, and
I see that you're looking into my eyes.
There's this light I see every time we're with each other;
God-given and beautiful.
You start to play this song again,
and I begin to understand...
Is there a message you're trying to convey?

Sometimes, when I can't sleep,
I feel your love surround me,
and hear your heartbeat.
I become flushed; surrendering to drowsiness.
As the piano plays,
You help me to my feet, and we dance slowly,
in the dark, heart to heart,
one in love, one in life;
and we will never part.
The rain turned into melodies lulling and soothing.
I lay my head comfortably on your chest,
as your hand protects my head.
I can not fall to the ground, you wouldn't allow it.
You start to play this song again,
and I begin to understand...
Is there something you're wishing to say?

Sometimes, when I can't sleep,
I hear your whispers of gentle care,
and feel your cold hand stroke my head,
ever so softly.
Taking my limp body into your arms,
you lay me down, and leave a window blind open before me.
The full moon pins me down,
and the rain turned into snow,
silently falling, but their lullaby still plays;
a lullaby he had composed for me.
it's a lovely little tune I hear every night;
he whispers each word softly in my ear.
You sing me gently, fast asleep,
and now I understand...
You wanted me to dream.

...And I feel all that love 

in rain,

 in snow, 

in sound,

and in moonlight.
Goodnight, my dear friend...
 

©LJ
4 November 2012

Flowers

Pretty little paper flowers

he made himself.

Many little colors

brought together

to make beautiful roses.

Blue, purple,

purple, green,

green, black,

black, white,

and a white rose.

All pretty,
tucked into his daydreams,
where love never ends,
and faith never runs dry;
a magical place
where time will never fly...
Forever in his Eternal world.

Behind her closed eyes...
Is her dream.
His dream 
is the key.
His dream
will amaze you...

If you only knew.

©LJ
31 October 2012

The Strange Light

My eyes were beaming red and dry.
The daylight hurts anymore, so
in fear do I hide from it's cruel rays.
The room they locked me away in is dark and cold,
just the way I want it,
and no one comes and talks to me, ever.
Drawing pictures of demons,
engulfing the oh-so-innocent world in it's
intimidating grasp,
uselessness and that of burdens lie
waiting to flog me in it's path.
The cold air bites me so...
But, in the corner of my eye,
I see something.
How do I know it's real?
How do I know it's going to help?
How do I know anything...?
When I've been told all my life I couldn't?
I reach out to it.
"Help..." I whisper. "What are you?"
It's a light, and as it creeps closer,
it suddenly... stops.
I start running around.
Does this light intimidate me?
Does it want to harm me,
as I have myself done much?
Under an old desk, I hide
and wait for the light to find it's prey.
Drawing a picture of what Hell must look like,
taking the wondrous things and turning them
into demons themselves,
torturing me and the world around.
I might have done this to myself,
but the world doesn't deserve to pay.
The light comes closer to me,
and it gets so close, I start fearing.
I'm seeing this, aren't I?
Straitjacket me already.
Sedate me, just do it.
But the light... oh, the light,
...embraces me...?
"I am A Friend." the light tells me.
"Don't be scared."
How can I not be scared,
when I'm locked up and beat mentally
everyday?
I look at the light,
and I say, "Why?"
"Frightened is your question and frightened is your soul.
You've trusted everyone else, and their negativity took you whole.
Crying and aching have you been, and that, I feel from afar;
It's my soul that clings to you, and comforts you, wherever you are."
I don't believe.
I don't trust.
I cling to the leg of a broken desk, and hang my head low.
Trembling in the light that supposedly a friend.
Why do I let myself see these things?
"I see the wind blowing,
I see leaves flying.
I see flame in the clouds,
I see the birds crying."
"Confused and frightened and lost are you.
Fragile and helpless you seem to be.
Ease your nerves and love will I,
wipe the tears and fret so you may see."
"No.
No one can help this passerby.
No one can mend this broken soul.
No one can help me fly."
The light ponders how she would be so stubborn.
The girl wonders why he wants to help her.
THE DREAM CONTINUES...... ♥

©LJ
3 September 2012

Pictures Blind The Wall

Beautiful

pictures

hang

blind

on

the

sullen

wall.

A sinister

landscape

to where

these

stories found.



Hidden; so many

hiding tales,

and emotions;

Maybe they

will show.

Microscopic eyes

lie; lie

silently, yet

as loudly

...as audible...

You know my

name,

life,

my everything.

Why make my

life a living nightmare?

I never hurt

YOU 
or 
ANYONE.

I only loved my

world

and

No one

Could

Deny.

"Maybe now they'll leave you alone.  R.I.P." <3

23 October, 2012.

©LJ

Storybook (Part Two)

Sitting down, I wait for him to say something.
It was quite a deal, holding a book
in which had empty spaces.

What would he do with that book,
to which he claimed was mine?

He looked at me with deep brown eyes,
and a beautiful smile.
He said,
"Well, aren't you going to come over
and give the pages some of your color?"

I stood frozen in my spot, and
couldn't find the will to move.

He seemed rather sad, then,
sitting the book down on a small table.
He came over, and took my hand.
Walking over, he let me sit in the chair,
and my hands grabbed the humongous book.

The pages were still empty...
I had to wonder.
"Dear One, how do I give color to these lonely pages?
How do oceans and sandy beaches come to be?
How do the carousels spin ever so slowly, with grace,
and how do they befit me?"

He came to me, and
said to close my eyes.
"Remember those pesky things
that would remain between you and yourself,
because society would ridicule you
if they ever found out?
Remember all your talents,
that you kept bottled up and shelved,
and never to be seen outside your shelter
because you feared mockery ever so?
Remember all those words you wrote,
to express your innermost thoughts
with the world around?
But, at the same time,
afraid to show those close,
because you thought
they would crash down on you?"

I nodded.
Every words was true.
I couldn't help but look away in shame,
for he read me.. like a book.


"Now, let me help you."

The pages were flipping and turning,
and I could feel him holding my hands gently.
The flipping stopped,
and I felt him bringing my hands down.

"Imagine beauty."  he spoke softly.
"Imagine something in the world,
in which you find beauty.
Now paint."

Paint?  What paint?
What brush?

"Child, run your fingers over the page."
he had an infectious giggle,
and behind closed eyes,
I started painting.

What more beauty could there be,
than the innocent look in a baby's eyes?
I wanted to paint a father,
looking into the beautiful soul of his child.

"Open your eyes."

When I did,
I saw a beautiful painting.
It was just what I was seeing in my mind's eye.
He smiled in my eyes, and said,
"Isn't it beautiful?"

I smiled, and replied,
"Yes, Beloved.
Very beautiful."

Going through the many emotions
of the world around me,
I paint them, and give them
only the most emotional imagery.
He helps by adding some of his love,
and beautiful, heartwarming, heartbreaking imagery,
and now we paint together,
laughing and telling stories that partner up
with our paintings.

"I think it's all filled up."
I said with a smile.

I flip through every page,
and they are no longer empty worlds
looking up in terror.
They are colorful, radiant pages,
that shine with happy smiles.

"Would you read it to me Beloved?
Please?"

He smiled,
and led me over to a nice little bed.
Wrapping the blankets around me,
he sits beside the bed,
and opens the big book to it's first page.

There, a creative mind and soothing voice become one.
It could truly be the greatest bedtime story on Earth.

As I drift away,
he puts the book on my night table,
and plays with me in Foreverland,
where more pages are added every minute,
with beautiful paintings.

©LJ

  22 August, 2012

Storybook (Part One)

Don't you know he likes to tell stories?
A desire of storytelling, he kept this dream in his heart,
that just seemed to big for the world.

He came to me in a dream of mine,
sitting in a gold chair with a seven on it's back.
"It seems your eyes will not shut," he said, concerned.
"Maybe I can help."

I raised a sleepy head up, and said, "How?"

He smiled, and grabbed a book, that,
in my world, seemed too big for either of us to carry.
The binding was gold, and the pages were old.
Flipping it to a page, he gasped,
finding something in his interest.
He almost lures me over, and says,

"This."

I was so confused...

"But, there is nothing here."

He giggled, and flipped through the book.

Every page was an empty canvas,
waiting for paint to take it's place,
and create the perfect bedtime story.

This book is yours, little one." he said to me.

"What will I use it for?" I ask him, wearily.

He just smiled and kept turning the pages.
I had no idea, what in this world,
I was waiting for.

So I said to him,
"What do I read from a book of empty pages?
What words take the face of these lonely sheets?
What paintings shall help these pages describe?
What endless boundaries these pages meet."

He took my hand, and held it;
brushing the back, and replied,
"I'm going to help you tell a bedtime story,
so that all sleepy eyes, worldwide,
will dream sweet dreams.
You can handle that, can't you?"

Me? Tell a story?
But wasn't it your dream to be a storyteller?

"Your feelings are confused."
he said.

"Yes." I agreed.

He giggled again, and walked over to me.
"Maybe when the book is complete, you will finally understand.
Come, now. We have work to do!"

©LJ

  21 August, 2012

Weave Into One

This isn't the end;

only the beginning...

as eternal love,

as eternal creation

weave into one;

gaudium vite (the joy of life).

This isn't over;

just getting started...

as sunrise,

as moonrise

weave into one;

lux aeterna.

This, not complete;

only  completed...

as giving my heart,

as giving your love

weave into one;

amare aeterna.

This, not left;

only fulfilled...

as stories unfold,

as magic untold

weave into one;

...perpetua...

©LJ

  9 October, 2012

I Only Observe

Smooth the rusty, aging borderlines,

said the teacher to the student.

I only observe, for I know

that the student will succeed.

Lift this burdened box to it's demise,

said the manager to the employee.

I only observe, for I know

that the employee will complete his task.

Go along, and play now, 

says the mother to the child.

I only observe, for I know

that she will regret her mistake.

Childhoods stolen, more hearts broken;

someone help us understand.

Someone give us a hint or shadow,

and lend a helping hand.

...Please give us our children back...

Return them their God-given faith, 

their innocence and euphoria...

for without it, we are nothing. 

©LJ

9 October, 2012

Don't Hide Your Eyes

Lovely, seductive pools

and beautiful...

hidden by a pair of dimmed glasses.

Why hide your eyes,

your dark, brown eyes?


Loving, magnetic seer

of all serene sight,
looking down upon me.

Why hide your eyes,

your dark brown eyes?


Luring and lulling,

and sleepy-eyed...

eyes to which

deeply pierce my soul.

Don't hide your eyes, love,

don't hide your dark, brown eyes.


These eyes of yours,

always hidden from us,

and fear being why

they play hide-and-seek with the world...

Don't hide your eyes...

My Love,

Please...

don't veil your dark, 

brown, nurturing eyes.

©LJ

28 July 2012

Thursday

I close my eyes,

and lay my head,

on this lonely winter spread.

Overdosed in love so pure,

the only love I know for sure,

is this love you have for me,

and the love I have for you.

This is  all I ever knew,

but lost so suddenly.

Looked on by the lovely,

and desired so to mend.

A dream in which you came to me,

and this time we would spend,

frolicking in Technicolor dreams

of sunflowers.. oh, how radiant they are!!

Your voice, so soft and angelic,

sways my rattled soul

and sedates me,

as if I was never upset.

What made me forget?

You are,

You are,

YOU ARE...

Oh, how can I even begin?

When we never knew each other,

how did our love, we discover?

But, you're an angel,

and I'm just me.

How do we relate so commonly?

This song we sing to each other,

to convey,

our love for, and to the world,

so to say.

Such an inspiration could only do,

what all makes up....

 you.

 

©LJ

20 September 2012

 

 

This day of Thursday...

It always leads to Friday...

This day of Thursday.

©LJ

  20 September 2012

 

We Become One

Walking along the rainy sidewalk of a university,

I watch the shadows put on shows they took no time to prepare.

Look into their hearts, can you see someone in the dark,

rimmed figure, that familiar silhouette?

"Dance with me,"

the shadow says, inviting me to parade,

in our creation eternal.

I start to dance,

and the shadow merges with me;

we become one with dance.

"Sing with me."

the shadow says, smiling within and out,

in humble grace.

I start to sing,

and the shadow's voice merges with me;

we become one with song.

"Play the games of the shadows charade.

Join with me in eternal parade.

Don't deny, have no fear.

Don't let my passing cause your tears."

The shadow embraces me,

pulling me into loving arms.

I could feel my head against his chest;

each finger stroking my hair,

like strings on a brunette harp.

The voice to which I became one,

broke apart with mine, 

and became one with my soul.

"We have had fun, 

but now I ask of you,

to rest tonight..."

The shadow whispers softly.

"You need your rest...

I'll hold you until you fall into sleep.

It's okay.

I am a shadow.

I am your companion.

I am always with you."

©LJ

19 September 2012

 Thank you, Honey Bun, for giving me this wonderful picture!
Humble am I in kindness!! 
We become one in LOVE, all three of us! (;

Who Am I?

Who

in this strange world

am I?

The question is everywhere I turn.

It's on everything..

The screen looks at me gravely

with the mystery.

A painting will

come to life with three little words

in its misty rivers.

The motion of my body

performs a slow interpretive dance.

A small voice in my head

will ask me,

because she does not know who she is, either,

like I do not know...

So who am I?

Isn't it sad..?

Not to know who you are?

Maybe when I sleep tonight,

a friend will appear

with a smile on his face,

and tell me.

But...

what if...

he doesn't know who he is, either?

Emotions will spill

into an eternity of this question.

I guess I will spend

the rest of my life

finding out who I am...

what a scramble of words.

Who am I?

Who I am...

I am who?

Am I who...?

But in the end,

like a great inspiration of mine said

in a poem that he wrote:

"To know who you are,

you are much more

than you ever imagined."

So I leave it at that,

and think to myself...

"I don't care who I am.

I only want to bring happiness

to those who don't know who I am,

and maybe to those who do know who I am,

So maybe,

I'll look back on this question,

but for now, I will wonder...

 Who am I?

©LJ

14 June 2012

Broken Backpack

 REST IN PIECES:

MY SCHOOL BOOK-BAG/BACKPACK. #1

2011-2012
MY SCHOOL BACKPACK #2
2012-2012 
(Maybe backpack #3 won't join you so soon. XD )

Hanging from a thread,

carrying all the burdens

that I do everyday,

could be my demise.

I could snap in an instant,

dropping my weight 

to the stone, cold ground, 

and that's what I did.

Look at me fall,

watch me in awe,

because I can pick myself back up.

I have an arm left.

...And then you cut it off.

Because YOU were uncomfortable with my spare arm,

so you just amputate it. 

I was about to perish anyway.

I didn't want to suffer anymore.

And as much as this sounds like a suicide...

YOU MURDERED ME.

But I'll never be forgotten.

©LJ

11 September 2012

Candy Store

In a little steel-mill town
far from others,
bears a small child,
and his most elementary dream.
The thought would circle his innocent mind;
a place to binge on little things.
Before, he would fantasize 
about opening one of his own:
In his heart, an old candy store
that stood a block from his home.
A lonely shack that suddenly died
took its once joyous place.
He would walk to the little building,
and every so often, gaze in wonder:
"I'll own my own candy store one day." 
said he.
"and make every child happy."
But, in sheer dismay,
his father absolutely refused.
"Why start something that could end so soon?"
The child pondered about that,
and never believed his father.
So, one day, 
as the child was daydreaming,
he sang a soft song to himself.
His father heard his shy little voice,
and gave the shy little boy no choice,
but to give in to his father's discipline...
The small child would indeed go far,
rise above and beyond the stars,
go as far as to forevermore,
almost forget about the candy store.
But... You know?
The dream never left him as he grew.
Although his love was the music world,
he'd still help each boy and girl,
all around this lonely earth,
and inspire a spiritual birth.
In his dreams, he frolics and plays,
in Foreverland does he stay.
The child with the dream of a candy store,
even now, still helping the earth forevermore.
Does this child sound familiar?
Do his dreams ring a bell?
My own divinity in motion...
 Don't ask me, I'll never tell...
...That will be for you to discover...

©LJ

23 August and 27 August 2012

(Finding My) Oasis

 My world becomes a desert,

stuck in shattered thoughts.

Desperately seeking the water

that will mend my mind again.

The sky was blue and dawning,

and the moon was fading from the sky.

The stars above faded into yesterday.

Today will be the day, 

that I may,

finally find my oasis.

As the morning lingered on,

no more was this lovely dawn.

The sun rose into sacred day,

Today, will be the day, 

that I may,

finally find my oasis.

This place where I can find the waves,

of imaginary everglades,

as the breeze 

gently touches,

all the little leaves.

Under the shade of a tree,

this oasis, where I may be...

The sun was high above the clouds,

right above the world around.

The clouds aren't there,

but who are we to care?

Today, will be the day,

that I may,

finally find my oasis.

Little round of water,

that surrounds, absorbs the fears,

that kindly wipes these angry tears.

A humble place, that takes all into arms,

where nothing's harmed.

Under the water of the sparkling little sea,

this oasis, where I may be...

The sun began to sink

into horizons unknown,

to go halfway around the world

and leave the moon to show.

Maybe today, was not the day,

that I may

have finally found my oasis.

But...

Where you are,

and where I am,

under influence of imagination;

you and I could change the mind

of skeptic aggravation.

"Take my hand."

I take your hand,

and suddenly...

This is where I am,

and where you are.

Maybe under full moon's light,

might our oasis shine tonight.

Mended once more,

I thank you, humble in your presence.

Hopeful in my once-shattered mind,

where we can become one.

I finally found my oasis.

©LJ

  10 September, 2012

 

In geography, an oasis or cienega (Southwestern United States) is an isolated area of vegetation in a desert, typically surrounding a spring or similar water source. Oases also provide habitat for animals and even humans if the area is big enough. (Wikipedia)

The Place Between The Worlds

In prolonged silence,

in constant grieving,

in perpetual light,

in constant believing...

As near am I as your next breath,

and commonly disguised as death.

A wonderful place is where I dwell.

Above the clouds, where nothing fell

from your heart, and to the ground,

out of sight, and out of sound.

This place between the worlds, is everything you desire,

where nothing is impossible, and never does expire.

This place between the worlds, will relax your troubled mind,

ease your disease, and leave the physical world behind.

...If only for a second...

This place between the worlds, is a friendly little place,

deep in your purest thoughts, and in my warm embrace.

...If only for a minute...

This place between the worlds, bears no frightening nights,

because the stars above us, are simply angels' lights.

...If only for what seemed like hours...

This is where I am, and where I lead you to.

This is where sweet love brings us together and, this is where we discover,

that forever is meant for EVERYONE, not few!

...This world without limits...

The angel that brings you here is one you hold so dear.

I whisper your name and beckon you between the yesteryears.

...This world of bright sunflowers...

The portals are open, and welcomes all...

Does your heart allow my soul to come through
and give light to your mind's darkened night?

The place between the worlds, opens up for thee...

Might I ask that you arise, and walk with me?

  ©LJ

  8 September, 2012

This lovely picture you see here was drawn by a dear friend of mine, whom I am very humble that she gave this picture to me.  Thank you very much, Cindy!! (:

"...his loves transcends space and time..."

Broken Glass

It was actually different today.

I was looking down,

when the world looked up,

with beaming eyes, ready to take prey.

I was sad,

when the world was happy,

mocking a poor soul, who didn't know much better.

I was not laughing,

when the world was laughing,

at this poor soul, with ridicule and humility.

I was not thinking of the negativity,

when the world was thinking of it, 

seeing these feelings take me whole.

But something hits me:

As they were laughing,

as a force tried to bring the soul out of the stuffy room...

The soul was laughing right along.

What simple feelings take her whole, but,

why ridicule this poor soul?

What monsters, oh what monsters we seem...

Poking at disabilities.

Heartbroken, I watch time pass,

I see the thought of broken glass.

The pain that bothers my weakened feet,

from broken glass have take the feat.

...But it hurts me, because

 it was always like this.

©LJ

4 September, 2012

As I Lay There

Softly under, cotton covers,

do I feel drowsy, then,

I reach for your lulling voice,

under a comfy pillow.

On a song, each second passes,

and I feel my eyes close soundly,

letting your voice carry me, and into worlds unknown.

But, suddenly, as I lay there,

I hear something.

No, it wasn't the emotional song,

about faces and races and fears of the moon...

Maybe, it was trick of the ear,

an auditory tease,

but, why would this voice

call my name?

It did not sound like anyone close to me.

This voice, my dear,

was the hushed, timid, angelic

voice I know so well.

Then, I felt the butterflies attacking me,

this warm feeling in my gut,

telling me everything.

But, as I lay there, almost asleep,

I ponder, and ponder carefully.

Did I hear your voice whisper my name?

But I didn't think about it for long. . . .

Your voice lulled me to sleep,

but I wake weakened in tiredness once again.

©LJ
31 August, 2012

 

Welcome!

It seems as though you got here somehow... I might as well welcome you to my blog!

So... Welcome!!

What you're going to start finding here is poetry.  And then, sometimes you might see some random things.  If you find my "About Me", I tell that writing is a hobby of mine, and I enjoy it.  I do have people tell me how good my poems are, but I still try to improve and create, improve and create.  It's just how I do, or what I do, whatever suits your fancy.

There's not really a lot to say about me, but I wanted to say something about the blog title.
The inspiration for the title came from a merge of one of my favorite songs, and the title of one of my favorite poems.  'The Secret Door' part comes from the song, Secret Door by Evanescence, and the 'Of Magical Child' part comes from a two-part poem entitled Magical Child written by Michael Jackson. 

I do cite Michael Jackson and Evanescence as big inspirations of mine. (:

So... Yeah.  That's pretty much it.  It's not the best introduction in the world, but at least I could get started.  Seriously, I had an internal conflict as to whether I should start this blog or not.  (I know, weird!  I'm kind of like that sometimes. :P)

If you see something that catches your eye, good!  If not, oh well!  You could always try another blog, though!  If you choose to tag along, great!  Hopefully what comes from this child's heart will trigger some kind of emotion, I don't know.

But again, welcome to my blog!  I have to go, but I'm sure to post something in time!

Peace, Love, and Glitter Glove!! :D

-LJ