A Heart, Opened

A Heart, Opened

an odd compilation of
odd feelings overwhelm
an open heart
oddly, it won't close

feet beat the ground
each step, pounding, makes
an open heart
skip a beat

eyes bestow tears:
they run with thoughts that
an open heart
stows away

one's feelings
become another's
an open heart
always feels

mind searches for
some way to save
an open heart
caught in a new mind

body becomes paralyzed
a closed mind and
an open heart
one and the frozen same

the path to
empathy proves
pathetic

a heart burns with
the instigative tears of another
an open heart
always feels

Structure My Heart

Constructive criticism on this poem would be really great. I haven't decided if I like this one or not yet :)

Structure My Heart

structure my heart,

set it in motion,

take it away, and

there’s nothing to go one

go one the rhythm

or just on feeling—

step, step, pique

then turn and wheel

wheels turn until

they’re stopped

a dancer turns still

 in my heart

heart beats on the

rhythm of my feet

except it’s not a true rhythm

at all, poetry of the feet

completes my soul

soles of my feet hold

calluses that bleed, but the soul

in my heart is

here, free

free—and unafraid

of the world

find safety in a wooden landing

and a warm flighted whirl

whirls don’t ever stop

step, step, swirl

they structure my heart

A Mind, Eyes Closed

An insane asylum+a squid+me? This is the computation:

A Mind, Eyes Closed

light floods in
as my mind
suddenly opens, but why--
why don't my
eyes?

quietly examine my
odd new surroundings
might this be real?
am I
alive?

hear the world
but my mind can't
see it
I'm here
I say, but they can't
see my mind

feel frightened
I'm all alone
wandering in this
place

think about how
I ended up here
my thoughts flow
easily as water

water is here,
just as I've thought it
break the surface
delve into memories

oceanic it is,
teeming with life, perhaps
mine, if it exists

feel safe here
no need to breathe even
though I'm caught under
a sea of remembering

remember what's here,
and so it is--fish, turtle, squid
remind me what it's like
to live

hear the world--still
they're speaking about me,
my brain is all wrong
but they can't see it,
how would they know?

I like it here
something tells me
this is my new
home

insane--it probably is
to live in a mind, eyes
closed

how much different
is it really?
from living

does it matter, even?
I've found
my asylum.

Residence

Poetry: 1st Attempt

Residence


I am the resident of a soul
my soul, i suppose

but sometimes I do
wonder
what it should mean
to be the resident
of Olivia's soul

I imagine the soul
a soul
to be reflective,
silvery, warm,
shining

I want the soul
to fill itself with
only goodness

And if the soul
a soul
which I am
the resident of
is silvery and good,

than I should be happy
to be the resident
of Olivia's soul.

Reality Realigned

A writing group poem :)

Reality Realigned


sometimes a smile sticks
and makes the world better
but sometimes worse

there comes a time when
your greatest gift becomes
your biggest flaw

realistic, realism, reality
are harsh words, but
I only wanted to
be real

a difference is to be
found between real
and cynical, but
certainly not there

here, real
proves itself enchanting,
warm as the sun
and clear as a cold night

here, I am learning
how to be real

smile because of true
happiness, cry
because the whole world isn't
here, real, too.

speak out to everyone
no--everything!
birds, stars, flowers, nature.

not a curved facade
in sight, genuine goodness
everywhere

here, I am not
shy, quiet
nor has perfection been achieved

I miss the
word here, but not it's  cynics,
the so-called realists

but I'm not sure
where here is in reality
or if it truly exists
outside of my head

Tall, Tall, Taller

I wrote a poem about a dance intensive I attended. :)

Tall, Tall, Taller

eyes open,

early morning,

no light in the sky,

though it streams

in my mind

ride through the dark rain

drizzle, drizzle, plunk

soar through the air

tight, tighter, hold on

to the plane

for I am

alone

land on the ground

back to safety, but not home

ride through the sun

bright, so bright, sunglasses

new surroundings, new house,

same grandparents,

different kind

of family

unpack everything

leotards, leotards, tights,

shoes.

swimming

weightless, lifted, relaxed

such feelings never last

weekend ends

not soon enough

early morning

ready to dance

ready, ready, go

shy

so very shy

but Sarah and

Chloe like

Harry Potter, too.

slip on slippers

warm up at

the barre

with new friends

music begins

dancing starts

my heart beats

the way I like it

unfamiliar faces everywhere

but they seem kind

good dancers

two hours can be an eternity

even if

you’re having fun

Yaima says stand

tall, tall, taller

forever

lunch time

sun beats down

we wear warm ups

any way

Chloe says stay

warm, cold

muscles hurt

meander through the halls

find the studio

inside, find a piano,

smile

more dancing

all that jazz

not to mention

all that

ballet

day one over

such fun

so tiring

mustn’t collapse

Milky Ways are

my savior

ride through the

palm trees

the breeze

couldn’t be more

adored

now home

it’s ok

to allow myself

to collapse here

until morning rises and the days repeat

again, again, again

my feet are home to many, many, a few

blisters

week two

pas de deux

step of two

learn what

to do

it’s funny

being held while

turning, turning, stopping

doesn’t feel any safer

homesickness is

the worst part

but only just before

not being

the best here

try imagining

what Kahona and

Akari feel like

my homesickness

is belittled by

the fact

that their home

is so far away.

Japan.

no English,

save for “hello”

“bathroom,” “ballet,” and

“present for you”

will leave their lips.

they were

my favorite people there

somehow

their passion

for ballet,

determination to

understand,

to prove their

immense talent

inspires me

dancers’ survival tip:

pedicures are magical

eight hours

of dancing a day

creates hunger

for more food

than usual

my family comes to visit me

in this warm, hot, sweltering,

Florida

smile because

happiness isn’t found

at home

but wherever you and

your family

are together

tomorrow we perform for everyone,

family,

ourselves, nervous, nervous.

performance day

legs are wished to be broken

tutus slide on

ready, ready, lights

euphoria overtakes my mind

as recollections of why I came swarm

dance through the lights

bright, so bright, no sunglasses

soar through the air

let go, go, free

land on the wooden stage

not home

but safe, happy, happy

final bows are taken, tears

of joy and misery are shed

hold close

teachers, friends, bags,

memories

repack everything

leotards, leotards, tights,

shoes

ride through the memories

driving to my flight

soar through the air

shake, shake, shaking,

thunderstorm

don’t worry, this isn’t as

scary as turning

en pointe

land on the ground

back to safety, almost home

riding through the pelting rain

plop, plop, drop,

finally home

still standing

tall, tall, taller

as Yaima

taught me to do.

Influencing Paper

I wrote a poem...about poetry :)

Influencing Paper

the influence of

the world

is strong, but not stronger

than my influence

of myself

or so I’d like to think

think, think

I’m living inside

my head, my safe haven—

as the cliché

would say,

my own tiny,

little world

little, confined space

 where enough thinking for

the world occurs,

 until it’s entirely

too much

too much to hold in

too little

an area

share with someone—

no, who might truly understand,

in words spoken?

I wouldn’t—or couldn’t

share anyway

with words not being read

but paper is

my best friend

when filled with

flowing thoughts

my worst enemy

when filled with

frightening blankness

paper will

always understand

the thoughts I

try to release

paper will

always make

the world understand

understand my influence

of myself

so I can think about

everything again