Martas poems

By Sinome - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, May 16, 2011

Darkness ... my old friend,

I love the feeling that possesses me when the need to write seizes my heart and fighting its way through my mind's maze a half thought poem emerges from some hidden place, moving through the darkness, looking for total birth; an idea mixed with sights and sounds becoming real, like some magic moon which appears and flickers, then fully shines for the first time. and becomes alive in the darkness... that darkness which once I was afraid off, but now I see as the colorless background of fertile,... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

True sadness.

Skin white as snow, her golden hair like silk long eyelashes cast shadows on her large and bright blue eyes, marred by the darkness of the world. Small for her age she hardly occupies any space She shrinks as she sits there, as if hiding from her fate, and little hands hold each other as large sad tears roll down her face, She looks at me and silently pleads to let her go, to let her leave… And I fight my impulse to hug her. What's wrong Angel? I ask What's right? she answers and cries. Twelve... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Bound by freedom

Love knows no barriers, not even that of trust. It is like space, seemingly empty, seemingly weak, yet all things that move and live have their beginning in it. I do not know its source, but I would not dare say no to it. I know that I would be blinded by it, yet I would see clearly. It would probably render me deaf, yet, I would be overwhelmed by the beauty of its song, finding myself defenseless, open, gladly bound by freedom. Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Never again

Never again will I walk with you hand in hand through these windy streets, counting blessings, making dreams. Never again will I gaze deep into your eyes feeling the eternal essence of our love within and in the grasp of our consuming passion scream, feeling your hands touching secret places of me. Never again will you show me the path to that place that exists only when you bring it out with your kiss. I see the dry leaves that in the wind leave never again to be with their lonely tree, but I... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Everything is fine

I am with you... thinking about you, sitting in your shadow, your silent shadow that like the reflection of the trees on the placid water of the river trembles with the motion of the wind. With my head resting on your lap I stare at the sky trying not to think of tomorrows, hoping that if a tear escapes my eyes and I sigh you'll think that I am just watching a beautiful bird pass by Behind your gentle face I can see the sunset framing you with its vibrant colors, the perfectly woven tapestry of... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Making love being in love

Thunderous pleasure noises deafen all fears. velvety touches smooth our pain. we delight, finding heaven in being held, smiles in the midst of our tears and as our bodies feed our need our souls merge and we weep, satiating our thirst, flying high... through the mist of our forgotten will Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Come...

Come my friend, lets dance and dancing forget all our woes nothing needs to be said, just let the music be heard... Let's leave behind mysteries and tears and with my head on your chest convince me please that it is OK to have dreams and fate is not as bleak as it seems. Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

on mystery

There is no mystery in the flight of the smoke that climbs so high among the clouds filling with doom the vivid blue of the sky that so reminds me of you, or in the fact that my heart bleeds as if cut with a knife whenever hope leaves. But, there is mystery in life... in what makes us want more and keeps us trying to thrive There is mystery in what helps us forget the thunder's roar when we see a bird over the rainbow fly and suddenly disappear into a rain torn sky I, that have sat by the sea... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

My mother

My mother was a beautiful woman, both inside and out. Strong and sensitive, she possessed a mesmerizing combination of natural wisdom and innate innocence that captivated all who knew her. She had suffered, but in her eyes, when she smiled, there were no shadows to mark hidden regrets or past resentments. She had buried all unpleasant things deep inside and all she showed, when she talked, when she did something, anything, were the positive results of lessons learned. I know that when she came... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, May 6, 2011

remembering

The sky is gray gray like the fading shadows of things that happened long ago and behind its crying clouds there is still a warm red sun hiding from the selfish whims of all of those that want to swim and for its absence today morn. The beach is deserted... like it was that day, again the crowds have gone as if the lack of light would have chased them away so I pretend it is just there for me this wonderful wet beach, that brings my memories to life and I walk kicking the waves that like then... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Waking up

She wakes up... She lazily stretches trying to shake of the last vestiges of the dreams that besieged her all night, Amazed she follows with her eyes a playful ray of light that streams from the window and plays with her chandelier.. wondering if its perhaps someone that has passed and whose soul lingers in this world She tries to focus but as always all she sees is a melange of colors in which, she can hardly distinguish the silhouettes of familiar things,,, her dresser, the armoir... She... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The hands of time

When we look into a mirror, does the memory of what is in there reflected stay captured in the shinny waters of its silver lake, or does it eventually fade? Our yesterdays... where do they go the things we did, the things we thought. The shadows of what has been linger behind what is blurring, hiding what could be while the hands of time relentlessly march on... as do we Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, May 2, 2011

The stolen smile

Giant figures in the sky moving around in the wind as I smile, changing shapes forged in my dreams coming to life in the light of a sun that beats down hard on the sea and on the sand. Many look at them but none see the meaning that they hold for me, and with time passing the story unfolds right up there in plain view of all. Flower gardens turn to fields of dust, and toy soldiers are standing, straight and tall, slowly disintegrating into the sunset rust. War intrudes into Natures play, taking... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

No matter how hard she tries to get the memories off her mind, she can't and what hurts is not the physical stuff the punches, the slaps, the kicks, the grabs, It is the words...those cruel words she cannot forget the terrible things he used to say that cut so deep inside they scarred the core of her She sits sometimes right there asking herself why did she stay when she knew she could have left. There are no answers she can find not anymore... things become fuzzy with time and if there were... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

The poet

H e worked hard, every day always for others, and for a small pay. Sometimes at night, to survive in a world that did not understand he sang old sweet and sad songs strolling through the tables of small dives, smiling at young ladies of sixty five. Most liked him, but thought he was not much, to them he was just another struggling man, and as such he was part of the crowd in which he got lost. But when he got home tired and spent, but finally alone... a transformation would take place as he... Sign in to see full entry.

The poet

H e worked hard, every day always for others, and for a small pay. Sometimes at night, to survive in a world that did not understand he sang old sweet and sad songs strolling through the tables of small dives, smiling at young ladies of sixty five. Most liked him, but thought he was not much, to them he was just another struggling man, and as such he was part of the crowd in which he got lost. But when he got home tired and spent, but finally alone... a transformation would take place as he... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, April 25, 2011

It was not love

It was not love... it was something else, but if we are to believe what people said, I sinned by offering to you water that could have never satiated your thirst. It was not love, it was not that which churns in ones blood like a burning fire... it was more like something that's been always there that we find by chance... and lose again but it stays somehow... somewhere, like an almost imperceptible pain... It was not love... no passionate force shook our souls. rather, It was like a slight... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

I know its not like me but ...here is some Easter humor for you guys

A man is driving along a highway and sees a rabbit jump out across the middle of the road. He swerves to avoid hitting it, but unfortunately the rabbit jumps right in front of the car. The driver, a sensitive man as well as an animal lover, pulls over and gets out to see what has become of the rabbit. Much to his dismay, the rabbit is the Easter Bunny, and he is DEAD. The driver feels so awful that he begins to cry. A beautiful blonde woman driving down the highway sees a man crying on the side... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Everything is relative

A golden cage sits by a window inside a red brick house that stands alone among the trees growing in the inlet by the road. Its gilded roof shimmers in the light of a sun that peeks through a cloudy crying sky. In the cage, surrounded by bars adorned by precious stones, a lonely bird stands on an elaborate swing made out of gold. There is food everywhere and treats galore, and a tinny silver bell for her to ring if she should want more. The bird is silent...just looking through the glass of the... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Many times I have started writing this poem

M any times I have started this poem and just as many I have let it die, but is always there under deleted lines keeping me awake, whispering to my heart that wants to brake, "Let me out, write me now... you are making a mistake..." No one else feels its pain it or hears it scream, but at nights when exhausted I fall asleep it perversely haunts my dreams. Its a poem about all those things that only last for a while, things that happen and are forgotten like some loves and the wind a poem about... Sign in to see full entry.

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