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Author Topic: I write poems...just thought to share a few :)  (Read 6274 times)
Mind Contorted
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« on: August 25, 2010, 09:44:48 PM »

I write poetry sometimes before bed, and occasionally during the day...as a catharsis or journaling of sorts...all unedited...just right from the heart....the titles for some are often the date I wrote them on~

This first one, I wrote a few months after my spiritual awakening here, March 24th, 2010:

Saturday morning, May 29th

He came to me again

although he’d been there all along

Now I have a lifetime friend

Who ever listens to the song

of my soul

He touches me now

always has and always will

Never alone, nor even lonely

Am I


The folly of the past

Rests among my play things

He smiles at me as I find new toys

the kind a parent prefers

Safe in my knowing that God is always there

Never alone, nor lonely

I am, now



The Past Is My Cradle

Sadensses I've gone through
tears I've shed
Even fears that still haunt me...

All are 'my cradle,' along with

the joys
the toys
maybe even a few of those boys...
even the ones I should have chosen, instead of some of the others...
all part of my cradle.

& Even tho a tear
rests right now
in my right eye...

It, too...has just become part of my cradle...

sprung from me...the real 'me'...

the one who now wonders
about the current 'he'...

will he turn out to break my now and forever after
unbreakable heart???

This current scene will also be part
of the cradle of
the whole of me...

so, it's ok...

as, I am happy to feel
the entirety
of my own


Saturday, May 8, 2010

 Rustling leaves

morning jazz is past now

Heart on my sleeve

but hidden in Love’s fractal-like pattern

Cat sleeping below my desk

My laundry pile is still a mess

Gotta sort it out

Might even need to use Shout

Easy with an easy heart

My Life’s direction no longer needs a new start

Pointing toward eternity

within the now, of being

Clear, nothing left to fear.



"'Get busy living, or get busy dying."
- Shawshank Redemption
Michale Danzig
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« Reply #1 on: August 28, 2010, 02:06:05 AM »

Gina, your poems have touched me. I thank you for your gift.
Mind Contorted
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« Reply #2 on: September 04, 2010, 10:45:17 PM »

Thank you, Michael.

I wrote a new one yesterday -

Background: I moved to a new town 'on island,' here in Hawaii (on the island of Hawaii, too) -

I moved in on the 1st, and spent the 2nd recovering from apparently having used every muscle in my body during the move.

It has been one year since I've had a boyfriend...the last one having turned out to have 'narcissistic personality disorder' - in other words, I was abused....and, even with an IQ of 148, I became "stupid idiot!" ... was not easy to go through, of course, but I felt such shame to have had it happen at age 51-52

Learned a lot from it...it took me about a year to fully recover and 'spread my wings to fly again' ...that is why I made this move to Hawi (pronounced ha-vee)...Rebuilding my life once more, albeit this time with a clear understanding of what it takes for real love to exist.

Yesterday, this came out:


I’m here because

 it’s here

that I’ve chosen to finish healing

To set it all right

To complete past feelings

To live in the Light

of endless momentary JOY

Now I know… God, myself, peace

am able to see

more than I ever wanted to

yet all I ever needed to:

Those in turmoil,

whom I cannot help

Those in love

who I cannot help

 but love more

Limbo does exist, but it’s nowhere man…

Walking zombies…sitting on a fence

In love I choose to reside

With peace and with pride

I’ve fought the good fight and won

N e v e r allowed tying

of my oh-so-innocent tongue

It, and my fingers, would need to be cut off

before I’ll ever be silenced…

As, I know now who I am, and always have been…

A woman of substance

A woman of dignity

I am here now

in a place that wants someone like me

I am free

"'Get busy living, or get busy dying."
- Shawshank Redemption
Mind Contorted
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« Reply #3 on: September 23, 2010, 02:31:29 PM »

Sharing another


Telling My Story

Like a little child who escaped walking past the scary dog down the street,

with only one sneaker still intact…and my now-last umbrella

scattered about, in the yard of the attacker,

torn to shreds,

now only  multiple symbols of his dominance over my innocence,

I have needed to tell my story,

over and over…

To know that others also escaped…

To know that others didn’t even know that dog was to be feared…

due to his incessant chaining…

To feel sympathy, compassion even, for his also-innocent soul…

To know that others never want me to walk that way again…

My story has been told enough times now.

So many times, in fact, that I now know that there is no need to tell it again…

and, if there ever be another story to tell…

I only need to tell it once…and then let it go…

release it into the white light…

because stories get old…

and can become chains in and of themselves…

and I have not time for getting old…

nor desire to be chained…

only time and desire for creating better stories to tell   wink

~ ~ ~

"'Get busy living, or get busy dying."
- Shawshank Redemption
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