photo: WWIIcouple
“Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, But for those who love time is Eternity.”- Infinitelove
Tag Archives: life
spoken word- To my little brother
You
have aqua blue eyes as if the hue of the sea was poured into your iris.
I
gazed into those glistening eyes as they first opened.
As our eyes interlocked I felt your presence.
You
absorbing the light of the world to project into your mind for the first time.
I
held you as if I was holding a whole universe, within my cradled arms.
The very day I vowed to protect you.
I
promise you, how small you believe you are
The galaxies existent on the pinpoints of your mind,
are far from being irrelevant.
You
love to ask why, as if your lips always knew how to form that very word.
Your mind’s questions stretch as far as the eye can see,
in order to piece together your endless curiosity.
You
will always try to find the different side of every story, the lesson beyond the hurt, the character behind the name and the beauty in the least expected.
I
will show you that no matter where you are in this world, the moon is no bigger than your thumb. You are the center of your own existence, there is no need to be afraid.
You
will paint the rainbow after every harsh storm,
just to show the world beauty can blossom out of the darkest clouds.
I
will teach you how to share toys, like you will learn to share this world.
You
have the ability to make your smile travel around the world and come back to you. Just by the exchange of joy through strangers.
Your smile can do wonders.
If you allow the edges of your mouth to lift, and creases of your eyes appear.
I
will remind you of the small pockets of happiness you forgot you had along the way.
You
recovering your gifts like a diamond in the ruff, discovering treasures within yourself you never thought you had.
You have the urge,
to create, what you feel
to discover, what you question
to fight, for what you love
We all do.
You
shouldn’t allow fear to suppress your instinct for adventure. Despite what they say the only person you can ever be is yourself.
I
wish I could shield you from harsh parts of this world, but my hands aren’t big enough to mold all the hurt I wish to transform.
Promise me you
will not allow the shards of hatred, to tare open your untouched skin, to draw out your kindness like blood. To be dry of the very thing that nurtured you.
I
will feel your pain, may it be a scrape on your knee or the cracking of your heart, I will feel it all.
You
are never broken, even if it may feel your heart scattered of broken glass. I will piece together every fragment that was displaced, despite my fingers cut open and bleeding.
I
will be your bandage, my arms wrapping around and around. Every heart soar you feel, to heal, to protect all your wounded parts. To seal your innocence, so remorse won’t infect you.
You
As your soft cheeks and dimple turn to a jaw line and stubble, when you have broadened shoulders and rough hands that turn to fists.
I
will remind you, to never raise your hand to a women, unless she is your teacher and you are asking a question.
You
can use those fists to build up the broken, to plant pillars where you stand lifting your potential. To use your strength to change the world.
I
don’t want this world to get the best of you, stealing your forgiving spirit to bitterness.
You
will not occupy and value your happiness based on endless digits and dollar signs. Nothing can compare to the satisfaction of unconditional love family gives. To be rich off love, instead of self-indulgence.
You
will not let the sand of time slip through your finger tips. Holding onto grudges, and pain you will not forgive.
I
know one day, you will not need me to fight your battles. To seal up your wounds for you will be stronger. But I will always have your back, with reinforcements just in case.
Most of all, I want you to know
you may out grow the rides, be able to reach the monkey bars standing up.
But you will never out grow the opportunities life holds,
you will never out grow the love I have for you.
This spoken word poem is for my youngest brother. We have 13 years age difference, and he has so much to learn and discover in this world as a young boy. Creating this poem was meaningful to me as I plan to show him this when he is older. It was enjoyable to write as I was speaking from my heart. I have a very motherly sense of voice in this poem, because my characteristics towards Isaac is caring and loving.
I loved creating this piece, hope you enjoy.
Clock & Bandit
He chased time.
Searching for more hours in the day, more seconds in a minute.
Every night he would pick locks,
cracking open doors of fine clock shops.
To steal a little more time.
Secretly snatching wrist watches out of clutch purses,
to occupy his lessening of digits.
Clocks would tick
like the beating of his heart.
Tick-tick Tick-tick.
Consistent and relevant.
The clocks hands twitching clock-ward.
As beads of sweat would trickle down the creases of his forehead.
As digits were lowering, time was shrinking.
This fueled his anxiety, like a stick of TNT lit at both ends.
Hours and minutes ready to explode in his face.
He couldn’t buy for the time he lost,
as time could not be bargained with.
Repeatedly looking down staring at the fractions of time lessening.
one-half, one-third, one- fourth gone
Dozens of watches he wore, frantically tracking time.
He needed more time but every second he added disappeared.
Where did it all go?
He wasn’t a coo-coo clock
Rather he had a purpose of it all
He was determined to search for more time.
Time to solve his problems.
Time to bring hope for more chances.
Time to live, Time to breathe.
Yet his time fell short,
Stopped by the end of his rhythmic tick.
Time out ran him.
Past tense now vacant where he lay.
Time Eternal.
Present Life.
As we are only temporary souls, in need of more time.
photo credit: clock
The Last Goodbye – Narrative Non-Fiction
Image credit: Farewell
The level was quiet, yet cackling coughs and the beeps of heart monitors seemed to echo through the narrow halls. Artificial light covered the paste white walls, dull and lifeless. It was as if the place hadn’t seen the light of day. Death seemed to creep along the walls, and ooze through the elevator doors. It was as if bad luck would follow your trail, like a shadow. As we sat waiting in silence, I couldn’t digest how people could stay in here. I would grow sick of being imprisoned. Everything was cold, as warmth vanished from the building. It was as if joy was sucked dry of this place, depress would way on your shoulders. The white walls seemed to in close around me, I clutched my arms feeling claustrophobic. It was as if your mind couldn’t breathe, everything mourned.
We approached a desk to ask where her room was, the nurse nodded sincerely and directed us down the hall. It was a year since I had seen her, and I would of never thought to meet her again here. As we passed several patients’ room’s, we finally arrived outside hers. The wooden light brown door was opened slightly, I could see her weakened face. I stared in shock of how different she appeared now, my mind rapidly viewing memories of her. As I was lost in my emotions, the nurse insisted to put gloves and an apron on. She was my family why did I have to protect myself from her? I then fully gowned, stepped closer to the door hesitant. My mind resisted to see her, she was ill. This memory of her now, I didn’t want to stick with me. My heart will remember her as herself.
My head peered around the door way, and her head turned to match her gaze with mine, she was beautiful. Her eyes glistened with love, with the little strength she had, she opened her arms to hug me. As I squeezed her gently, I felt her body shake. As she spoke with joy, her gentle smile lit the room with a effervescent glow. Her face was puffy as it muffled her soft voice as she tried to speak to me. We spoke for hours catching up, as I felt like back home during the holidays as she would sip wine and discuss the delight in the world.
My heart fell limp, as I recollected our visits, though it was rare it held a special place in my heart. She was joyful during the holidays as she would hum Christmas melodies, while decadently wrapping gifts. As a kid I was amazed at how detailed and precise she was with everything. She persisted to put all her effort into the people she loved. She would stroll around the kitchen, with a glowing smile as she mixed together delicious recipes, acknowledging my glances. Once the food was done, the house would envelope in a heavenly smell. Drifting back to reality, all I smelt as I inhaled was disinfectant wipes and dust. My memories so filled with life, though I faced bitter before me. She was made for more than this, her hope consumed by darkness.
She fell optimistic, as she spoke the words, “I will get better.” Only to be stronger for us all because she knew we weren’t ready to face the sorrowful truth. I grabbed her fragile hands, as her skin transparent; veins colored her skin with a bruised pigment. I felt the cold of her finger tips seep through my gloves, she was growing tired. I had to leave and say farewell, despite my heart pleading to stay longer. It’s in times like these you realize that we all reach a deadline, and time if never-ending. Though my time with her in this world has now faded away, our souls will meet again.
~ Dedicated for my Grandma ~