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Poem 1
We try to make sense for whats right and what wrong When every day feels the same and I haven't seen many faces in so long Its the same beginning and ending for all I know But every moment of it is a part of me and still be when im gone
1
New
Mardia
Don't mistake me your still the most mesmerizing thing inn the world I don't think you realize it but you are infinity. Everywhere with you feels like forever in a moment. Nothing less is what your worth I feel so in aw, I found something my worth could never match up to. I'm not even worth sending this message but I'll do so like the rat I am. A banquet Is what I'll make for you ^,^ (Redacted) "Show me this infinity of yours"
1
Yesterday
3 a.m thoughts: To everyone who feels like a Rosaline in their own story
At the corner of the booth, wiping away mascara in front of a cascading mountain of makeup, sat the most intriguing woman I had ever met. Rosaline was sharp, bold, and charismatic. Her remarkable ability to say the most insanely inappropriate things at the most awkward moments earned her title as my second skin.Before I stood to lose all my courage, I cleared my throat to ask the question that had been burning in the back of my mind ever since the spotlight shifted onto Juliet. “Are you happy being denied in the tale that was rightfully meant to have your name in bold?” Her eyes gleamed knowingly, as if picking up on the words I dared not think for fear of them coming true.Can anyone be happy as a ‘Rosaline’? Can you be happy as the woman who almost got it all?I knew that feeling all too well: almost having the boy, almost having the spotlight in your own rightful story. The feeling hit home. They say I am witty and smart. They tell me what they tell her, that we are the suns. Yet why does the story still have Juliet in bold? Why is it still Juliet?I bet she despises the silent tirade, having the audience look at her pitiful plight and wonder why she wasn't enough. “But my name isn't Juliet. I am Rosalind, a heartbroken but proud woman.” I looked dumbfoundedly into her content smile. Suddenly, I was no longer staring at a weeping figure cursed to be marred with tears of sorrow. A sorrow she no longer had since she stopped trying for a different name tag.This commanding force of a woman refused to bend for the story that all had deemed was her life, tragically wrenched from her hands.Rosaline knew this wasn't her show. ‘Rosaline’ was up next.Without warning, she gets to her feet. “Must I try and wait to be the ‘Juliet’ for someone who isn't my Romeo? Forgotten or not, the story must go on, and mine just happened to be pressed late. Alas, I must go for my show, now now,we can't have Dario waiting.” She winked as I grinned through the realisation that I am a Rosaline(deff always late)and a proud one.
2
New
Ego vs Soul
Ego vs Soul Your ego mind is a most powerful force It can lift you up or knock you off course It can tear your heart and block the dream Are you fighting a losing battle upstream? Connect to your soul knowing the real you The one that is loving, courageous, honest and true The power of the soul is itself a mighty force Embrace it and be led back on course The ego will wage battles with the soul But truth will prevail in a way that is bold by Alison Johnstone
2
New
Beyond the Storm
Beyond the Storm The wicked wind billows on the rails Whipping through the torn tattered sails The unrelenting waves crash all around Will the ship survive or run aground? The storm brews up power relentlessly Tossing the ragged ship endlessly Do not despair ; look to the horizon’s part Connect with the anchors of your heart Feel your strength and the true might Move past the storm and revel in the light by Alison Johnstone
2
New
A Tribute to Relief Workers
A Tribute to Relief Workers A child cries out in hunger and fear A mother weeps with sorrowful tears Her tears flow into a gentle river The river began to slowly quiver A moonbeam casts a golden light Human angels appear to set things right Precious food and medicine hand in hand Now spreading hope to all the land Each day they put their lives on the line To serve all of the neediest humankind Thank you to all the beautiful souls The ones that care with a heart so bold by Alison Johnstone
2
Classic
Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof Of green and stirring branches is alive And musical with birds, that sing and sport In wantonness of spirit; while below The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam That waked them into life. Even the green trees Partake the deep contentment; as they bend To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy Existence, than the winged plunderer That sucks its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, With all their earth upon them, twisting high, Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice In its own being. Softly tread the marge, Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee, Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
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