Tag: poetry

shatter the standards

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

I set standards high in the sky
so I can see them
but never touch them,
always a step or two beyond.
Highlighting the distance
between where I am
and where I should be.
Self-righteous, I feel,
to see them so high,
slightly out of reach.

Motivating,
and destructive.
If I stumble on one loose rock
then I slide all the way to the bottom
to start from the beginning
again.
No mercy.

Shatter those standards
into small, sharp shards
for when I shatter
from the pressure
and start to fall.

If I shatter,
then they should too.

shaking on fire

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Lightning and thunder
alternate
sight and sound,
sight and sound,
shocking me into submissive fear
until I shatter,
and collapse.

Thunder rumbles through the ground
rolling me like water in a boiling pot.
Lightning strikes
to set me on fire,
then the thunder roars again.

Shaking
on fire.

presence, truth, and love

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Turn off the clocks,
divert time away from these
external constructs of time
dictating arbitrary guidelines
for when things should be done.

The time of day matters not
if you do what you love,
if you tune into the body
and let it tell you
when things should happen.

To live in the moment
no matter the time of day
offers value
immeasurable by numbers.

Measure in presence,
truth, and love.

yesterday, today, tomorrow

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday
the sun never shone,
never emerged from behind the clouds,
hell, I don’t even know if it was there.
I existed in darkness.
I cannot say I lived in darkness
for I barely felt alive.
I just was.
Weights wrapped tight around my ankles
and a boulder on my chest
kept me in the darkness,
not that I wanted to leave, anyway.
What is the point of all this?

Today
I felt the sun penetrating my skin
while my eyes remained closed in sleep.
I see no clouds in the sky,
just the sun
beaming down on everything, and me.
I still feel the boulder
but my ankles move free
and I marvel at this gift of life
and light.

Tomorrow
offers only guesses at the sun’s intentions
and my mind’s interpretation.
I could check the forecast,
anticipate a plan to bring success and light
but it would be all for nothing
as history dictates.

Yesterday
I was handcuffed in the trunk.
Today
I sit in the driver’s seat.
Tomorrow
there could be a flat tire.

Up and down, and side to side
strapped tight into this roller coaster seat
I sit, blindfolded,
holding on to me, for dear life.

All I have,
is me,
now.