From the Book, Thoughts Without A Title (2006) - By me...

http://www.infibeam.com/Books/info/Geri-Henderson/Thoughts-Without-a-Title/1933455063.html


Behind
I tried my best,
Ran until my bones eroded.
Time, always ahead,
Left me fading into its darkness.
Behind the smoke,
Behind the stink of my own cigarette.
I saw you all, winners, jump in:
Laughter, smiles and welcome yells
In yellow, pink, blue, and red.
Your eyes screamed triumph.
Your eyes screamed happiness.
Flaming the fireinsidemyfeet,
Blowing remaining dust
Off my face and chest.


Forgotten
Forgotten?
Love was then.
And now,
love
boils inside a bottle of glass
on the high shelf of memories and fears.
Forgotten?
Not by me
— by life.
And thrown away to distant stars,
to gaze upon in wonder.
Wait to fall, like a shooting star —
A child’s begging cry.
Forgotten?
But it lives inside my every dream!
The tears await
the doors of heaven to open,
the stairs to ascend,
the faith to climb,
the truth to believe.
Forgotten?
Let me speak!
Find me cornered in your hole!
Lift me!
I will show you what was real.
Tell me it’s only a temporary change!
Breathe some hope into me!
Find me!


Inner-Child Struggles
They come from all around you
and keep you in the dark.
Your eyes are still wide open,
but there is nothing in your heart.
Only broken memories
of childhood dreams.
Buried under dense grey
is innocence, light and green.
Push away the agents of hurt and despair.
Wipe away the thickening smoke
with your most saline tears.
Buried under dense grey
is innocence, light and green.
Fly over the shadows.
Let the breeze clear your ears.
Now feel the sunlight.
Listen to the birds and trees.
They come from all around you
and keep you in the dark.


Lost
Yesterday
I had a rose
Framed in my heart.
And in time,
travel and distance gave birth
to thoughts and doubt.
Today
I gently open the frame
And remove the rose.
Today,
My hands crimson
Around the thorns.
The petals dry to rot.
Only the scent remains,
A memory of the past,
Beauty broken, hands scarred.
Today
I lost my star.


Summer Rain
My summer rain.
Where did you blow,
Uncovering the burning sun?
I turn yellow at the thought
of you healing another’s
dry and cracking ground.

Dog Days

Dog Days

Our memories like the songs of birds,

Your tenderness the shy sun.

Just like the seasons change, we've also turned

With summer you buried our fun.

The flowers no longer decorate our view,

And the birds no longer sing.

The beautiful leaves are falling.

Like the lonely branches, you’ve left me naked and thin.

Untitled

I have been working on some sketches and enjoying some colouring! Fun times! Anyway, this is just a picture describing what it is like to be in a dark place, most probably after some sort of loss. Hence, the contrast between the colorful beautiful images BEHIND and the darkness that surrounds us after loss...

Love at first sight

Love At First Sight

Sketch by Me

I used to wonder: How can someone want to be around a person, look at them, get instant happiness from their presence, when they haven’t even said a word to them?

It’s true. It happens, and its overwhelming happiness, the kind that is sweetly beyond our control. Tsunamis of butterflies that have always existed within suddenly appear, playful in your core, as if they have been waiting for someone’s light to fall upon their invisible wings.

Now I believe that the soul is capable of sensing something in another that our conscious may be slow to grasp. It is beyond the typical rationality of the mind. Love could be such a mystery.

It’s true. From the moment I saw you, you made me happy. I knew in my heart, that I would want to be next to you, for as long as I can. And when words were uttered, I only felt it more.

Trouble

Moments like these I turn to God. I plead for him to make you feel everything inside of me, to understand. So I can know that these tears are not wasted, that at least you’ll know why I say what I say and do what I do… because maybe if you truly understand I can take your behavior towards me as a final answer, maybe even a final painful goodbye. Because this, all of this, especially nights like these, they are not alright, they can’t be.

But then again, maybe you already understand. And that is why I feel this way.

Ah! Sunflower [2 more things to share on this joyous occasion of love]

George Frederick Watts, Watts Hope

1) William Shakespeare
[http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/116.html]

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come: 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

   If this be error and upon me proved,

   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night

2) William Blake

[http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-little-girl-lost/]

A Little Girl Lost

Children of the future age, Reading this indignant page, Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime. In the age of gold, Free from winter's cold, Youth and maiden bright, To the holy light, Naked in the sunny beams delight. Once a youthful pair, Filled with softest care, Met in garden bright Where the holy light Had just removed the curtains of the night. Then, in rising day, On the grass they play; Parents were afar, Strangers came not near, And the maiden soon forgot her fear. Tired with kisses sweet, They agree to meet When the silent sleep Waves o'er heaven's deep, And the weary tired wanderers weep. To her father white Came the maiden bright; But his loving look, Like the holy book All her tender limbs with terror shook. 'Ona, pale and weak, To thy father speak! Oh the trembling fear! Oh the dismal care That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!'

William Blake, Songs of Innocence and Experience
A Song of Experience: A Little Girl Lost