She is me.
Hidden by gravity, grasping any sign of life.
Coming home to the dust of the earth.
A place of longing, to be loved.
She is me.
Hidden by gravity, grasping any sign of life.
Coming home to the dust of the earth.
A place of longing, to be loved.
Tomorrow
Screams
won’t abort
it’s sorrow
We writers are not alone: So many Poets/Authors have paved for the for Artists to Survive:
Poem: By Paul Laurence Dunbar ‘My all time favorite- Enjoy!!!
WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,-
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
Poem: By Paul Laurence Dunbar
http://www.math.buffalo.edu/~sww/dunbar/pldunbar4.html#WE WEAR THE MASK
Smile girl but not too hard
Speak up but not too loud
Shuffle long ,shuffle long’
chile- now I see
You have no eyes like me
You have no hair like mine
Your human qualities so undefined
quit trying,shufflin-
on my neck
Hold still
Let me be…
http://www.writeforhealing.com/stories-by-you/2015/7/21/before-the-world-told-me
I
was
here
Soaking up
Love
like
brown paper bags
Here is my latest piece: I am Writing for Healing
http://www.writeforhealing.com/stories-by-you/2015/7/21/before-the-world-told-me
Carry me through sandy storms, where smiles are real
and stoney hearts are kept
Far away
exchange my hour of disappointment.
Atone now, oh soulless foe.
Carry me to the land where humans grow
cedar’s press, maple sapp,
oppression seared lightly in
mailboxes,streetlights, and stop signs
many times have I washed,
but the soap of justice
has yet to cleanse my moral mind
a peaceful "meander with intention" amongst the trees
Welcome Aboard, Train Wreck
A Place for Well-Being, Sacred Growth, and Thriving."
Social Justice Educator, Aspiring Humanitarian
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
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Everybody has a story. Here's a little of mine.
Drink the fuel!
Sharing the HOPE and encouragement we have in God.
Words are the only thing left holding me together
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Photographer obsessed with water, and with taking photos.
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Poetic storyteller with a mic and a camera.
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Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
Beauty ever ancient, ever new. - St. Augustine
with the Holy Spirit of promise -Ephesians 1:13
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I am Eva -former refugee, doctor and a writer. My parents were Holocaust survivors, I escaped communism. I wrote a novel, mixing family stories and fiction. A novel about Holocaust, communism, racism and emigration. What makes people leave, and what happens to the ones who do, and to the ones who stay. I believe these old stories are more important now than ever before.
May the Words Flow
I find some peace here