Posts Tagged ‘Summer’

The sun is shining

yet I sit inside,

daydreaming of places I’d like to go:

the beach, I used to go

all the time, but then teenage insecurity crept in;

a bike ride, I love the rush of wind

against my skin, but the way back

is uphill;

the forest, always

with such mystery,

such a quiet and mystical place

with sounds from sources unseen,

the scent of earth and trees,

but there’s danger lurking somewhere

and there are bugs that bite.

I sit inside

and think about the places I want to go,

waiting for courage or boredom

to take me there.

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So I survived my first year away at college. *deep sigh of relief*

I know its kind of a lame excuse, but I was busy a lot of the times, or just focused on other things, that’s why I haven’t posted on this blog in about six months.

Now that it’s summer I plan to fix that.

You’ll be seeing some new poetry soon, although I can’t promise I’ll be able to churn it out daily. But stayed tuned anyway!

The Trees seem to beckon

as the Sun sinks low,

but the Heat keeps me apart

from the World I’d like to know.

 

Clouds, obscure! Sun, blink!-

for a short Moment-

so I may venture,

and- no more- lament.

Yellow light has become our new carpet.

Light, like grief, reveals

us. And the lilacs gather bees

as my friends gather affection.

Light is my sour token.

Wind is the other.

 

Here is this summer light, but

people would rather wait

for news of stabbings, shootings, and massacres-

though, being human, won’t admit it-

and choose shadow.

But this is ordinary.

Even ornithologists do not fully understand

the language of birds.

Summers is here and the sun bares down.

I could impress upon people the value of rain-

silverĀ fingers drumming, the sky without frown-

but they see it as a pain,

something to avoid. I would dance in it,

but instead I sit

inside and read poetry. When I was young

I would open my mouth to the rain

the way any other child would catch snowflakes on his tongue,

and I would spin for raindrops and drink them in.

Summer people watch the moon wax and wane.

On bright mornings I wince at the sun

and whisperĀ you win.

The Sun climbs, each day,

over some unseen Hill.

Ascent warms the Land- then-

Descent brings a chill.

What is life without

Splendor of the Sun?

If only gray skies

preside, what can be done?