A farm land churned and over cropped Fruits of labor plucked year to year I have no regrets I’ve fed and nurtured new life I’ve cradled vulnerable seedlings not yet ready for the rays of light that brighten and burn Tucked away silent inside warm dark loved A symbolic womb with a pulse pulse pulseContinue reading “Farm Land”
Tag Archives: poem
Tacos
I’ve stuffed myself full of tacos And queso And guacamole with chips Now I feel like a potato And my creativity got Stiffed But the tacos were so good And look I still wrote a poem -Saschia
Symbols- revisited
She asks for symbols while I doodle stars and hearts in blue ink across the top of a blank page Maybe I don’t get it, Professor Maybe I never will I’m on to circles and squares Images of old Egyptian pillars appear containing hieroglyphs with no meaning Evoke the imagination She voicesContinue reading “Symbols- revisited”
We Go On–We All Do
Funny how things work out How people show up And make you proud of who you are Or make you feel less than who you are both people come and go They make impacts They go on with their lives With their red Rose’s or their brass scales And think briefly of you now andContinue reading “We Go On–We All Do”
Ambivalent
I have no side to take Ambivalence is all I’ve ever known Conflicted to the core
Curiosity
My work is useless without curiosity It’s my current the wind in my sails Without it my words are purely entertainment and lack depth So I read and explore and question life… -Saschia
Echoes
The moon crosses the sky Have I forgot something Is the laundry done The spirits circle my car Echoes of tummy growls Did I eat Take my hand love me raw Wrap your arms around my vibrations Do I have to ask -Saschia
Cloudy
I’m lost in the clouds reality swirls into a blur of colors while Hope flits in and out like a restless cat How do I touch down? Toes wiggling with Two feet on the ground -Saschia
Puddle of Life
Life leaked out my finger tips It was a sloppy puddle of mush leaving only a carcass of skin slabbed on bone Like a chicken on a cheerful walk to the slaughterhouse emptied mindless and tired -Saschia
Bed time writing
Going from letter to letter Eyes opened one minute Closed the next. What’s real and why are sugar plums So amazed by my androids buttons
Jayne.press 