Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Untitled
and so it is over and done
in time I'll forget this one
but today the loss is pain,
dark and stabbing sharp
cowering in the corner
eyes tightly shut, waiting
for the sun to rise and set,
rise and set
and here I'll sit
as the light comes and goes
from narrow, empty spaces
revealing your truth ~
Copyright ©2004 Angela Friberg
in time I'll forget this one
but today the loss is pain,
dark and stabbing sharp
cowering in the corner
eyes tightly shut, waiting
for the sun to rise and set,
rise and set
and here I'll sit
as the light comes and goes
from narrow, empty spaces
revealing your truth ~
Copyright ©2004 Angela Friberg
Love Poem
come to me my dear
let me cherish you in full
life ticks away fast
all of nature names your love
the wind says you're mine ~
Copyright ©2009 Angela Schofield
Author's note: This is a form of Japanese poetry called Tanka (5-7-5-7-5)
I wrote this poem in high school, ha!
let me cherish you in full
life ticks away fast
all of nature names your love
the wind says you're mine ~
Copyright ©2009 Angela Schofield
Author's note: This is a form of Japanese poetry called Tanka (5-7-5-7-5)
I wrote this poem in high school, ha!
Your Love
Your love is Caribbean warmth
Your love is a tropical paradise untouched
Your love is a hot cup of cocoa on a blustery day
Your love is the marshmallows that float on top ~
Copyright ©2006 Angela Schofield
Your love is a tropical paradise untouched
Your love is a hot cup of cocoa on a blustery day
Your love is the marshmallows that float on top ~
Copyright ©2006 Angela Schofield
For Josh
Those who truly listen will discover truth
and wisdom
beneath the toughness
beyond the language lies
a talented, creative mind
overflowing with ideas I could listen to
forever
like a fawn that has never glimpsed the lions,
the world is his to run free
so young, fragile, and full of dreams -
he could do most anything
excites my mind and moves my heart
to beat like the pulse of exotic drums
distant, gradually growing nearer
images of him pass through my mind
with the sweet cadence of a flowing river
sending thoughts like ripples to my shore ~
Copyright ©2004 Angela Schofield
Author's note: Josh was a college buddy. We were tight friends, bound by our love of music (especially the Indigo Girls), taking the same classes, sitting next to each other, giggling and goofing off in class (Our poetry professor hated us!). Even with the welcome distraction I still somehow managed to get straight A's. He on the other hand had ADD and didn't care much about grades, routinely receiving C's and D's (even with my aid).
We came from opposite backgrounds; me the white, backwoods country girl and goody two-shoes and he the innner-city boy with a Korean heritage, rough exterior, and juvi record. He was only a couple years younger than me but had this youthful, rebellious exuberance about him that made the age difference seem greater. And I, of course, had a major crush on him.
We parted ways soon after I left school and I've thought of him from time to time, wondering how his life turned out. I doubt he even remembers me, some people just touch our lives and become instantly memorable, and he touched mine for some reason. I'm sure whatever path he's chosen for himself has been a wacky, imaginitive, and successful adventure. He was full of potential and an extremely creative and gifted young man.
and wisdom
beneath the toughness
beyond the language lies
a talented, creative mind
overflowing with ideas I could listen to
forever
like a fawn that has never glimpsed the lions,
the world is his to run free
so young, fragile, and full of dreams -
he could do most anything
excites my mind and moves my heart
to beat like the pulse of exotic drums
distant, gradually growing nearer
images of him pass through my mind
with the sweet cadence of a flowing river
sending thoughts like ripples to my shore ~
Copyright ©2004 Angela Schofield
Author's note: Josh was a college buddy. We were tight friends, bound by our love of music (especially the Indigo Girls), taking the same classes, sitting next to each other, giggling and goofing off in class (Our poetry professor hated us!). Even with the welcome distraction I still somehow managed to get straight A's. He on the other hand had ADD and didn't care much about grades, routinely receiving C's and D's (even with my aid).
We came from opposite backgrounds; me the white, backwoods country girl and goody two-shoes and he the innner-city boy with a Korean heritage, rough exterior, and juvi record. He was only a couple years younger than me but had this youthful, rebellious exuberance about him that made the age difference seem greater. And I, of course, had a major crush on him.
We parted ways soon after I left school and I've thought of him from time to time, wondering how his life turned out. I doubt he even remembers me, some people just touch our lives and become instantly memorable, and he touched mine for some reason. I'm sure whatever path he's chosen for himself has been a wacky, imaginitive, and successful adventure. He was full of potential and an extremely creative and gifted young man.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Man, Haiku is harder than it looks! Structure makes it more challenging but I've always been partial to structure in poetry. I'm starting to get bored with my cookie-cutter, sing-songy poems though. So lately I'm trying to break out and free flow when I write, but the concept seems a little lost on me, or the other way around. Maybe I just need to tap into my imaginitive inner child; she's there somewhere fingerpainting a rainbow-haired unicorn or some crap.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Sailboat
The ocean thinks nothing of a sailboat
caught in its powerful current
It sends waves randomly, mercilessly
because it must
The small boat topples then rights itself
again and again, struggling for the shore
It will succumb to the sea, sinking helplessly
because it must
If only you were the sail boat and I were the sea...
But as it is, I cannot hate you for raging on
while to your depths I plummet silently
because you must ~
Copyright ©2003 Angela Schofield
caught in its powerful current
It sends waves randomly, mercilessly
because it must
The small boat topples then rights itself
again and again, struggling for the shore
It will succumb to the sea, sinking helplessly
because it must
If only you were the sail boat and I were the sea...
But as it is, I cannot hate you for raging on
while to your depths I plummet silently
because you must ~
Copyright ©2003 Angela Schofield
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)