Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Stop Touching Each Hurt - May 30, 2012





Stop Touching Each Hurt

I heard silence in the cobwebs
of your soul
while everything else walked
as if lost
inside of the belief
that all you see is black and white.
Then, I watched you crawl in search of truth
among faces with eyes
that held the illusion of everything
you think you want in life.

Your fingertips seem to know more
about your emotions
than your tears do
because you touch each hurt
your heart mentions
until they bleed.
I watch you pause,
and look over your shoulder
for yesterday
almost as if you wish
it would never leave.

I wonder if you will ever learn
how simple
the feel of your own skin
could be
if you would just not let anger write its name
on your walls carelessly.
Perhaps then, you could see the sunlight
of a brand new day
and accept the shades of gray
that color me.


© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Friday, May 25, 2012

Midnight Leaps Into a Different Glory - May 25, 2012



 
Midnight Leaps Into a Different Glory

Midnight leaps into a different glory,
can you see the silence
masking the world as it changes?
If we listen to the wind
lost souls will speak of love
found within walls
where soft lips eloquently tell
of simple grace and praises.

Stop and look upon a puzzle
where no noise can be heard
but a light shines here and there
burning the same as warm champagne.
Subtle I want you’s fill the air
with smiles,
removing cries,
painting over the pain.

Watch the way satisfaction focuses
on the windowsill of beauty
then places its hope
in the experience proved.
This is when music is made for guidance
and is felt softly inside your head,
heard each time you move.

Our thirst is quenched then framed by a smile
that courageously enters
like the voice of the sun.
Existence writes notes delivered by birds
who wait to tell our story
in ways that move us into one.

Who saw midnight
when it leaped into a different glory?
Could it have been the eyes
that saw silence masking?
Masking into the tapestry
that speaks of love
found within the walls
and is ours for the asking.

© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Thursday, May 24, 2012

While the World Waits to Rebuild My Pain - May 24, 2012



While the World Waits to Rebuild My Pain

Hypnotic air looks at my heart
while the world waits
to rebuild the pain of old wounds
by turning back and twisting words.
Still, I offer up heaven as I write
inside a web of remembrance
where a fire burns in the darkness
of everything I ever said
that was not heard.

Overnight the feelings of innocence
tremble on my shoulders
but the night still asks me
where you are
when I look out the window.
I began to wonder
if I spelled out storm
inside my web
to create a field capable of keeping
this smile on my face
sweet.......
and oh so slow.

One day I will walk to a place I know
where there are rooms
where I can escape from the world
waiting to rebuild my pain.
I will then write with naked eyes
words that tell shattered glass
to be silent
while hypnotic air
becomes a gateway
for my smile's refrain.

© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The Wildest Loneliness - May 20, 2012



 The Wildest Loneliness
 
Sometimes, it seems that everything
my heart keeps as truth
I take with me
and lock deep inside of I am sorry
as I breathe the air twisted in the places
where I sleep.
Yet, there still exist nights
where there is no bed I can dream in
where I do not hear a melody
that feels naturally sweet.

Often, I stand in the corner
of all I have missed
then find myself walking proudly
beside the wildest loneliness
lying deep inside of
my stubborn heart.
Then suddenly,
my head clears inside of a silence
and I write poems
from the hands of angels
until the wildest loneliness
has to part.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Fill This Old House With Poetry - May 19, 2012

Photography by ilya rashap

Fill This Old House With Poetry

Long ago the sun filled this old house with poetry
inspired by our laughter.
We stood right here
by the fireplace taking pictures
to wake memories and move our hearts
with reasons
to hold hands once again.

We are now alone inside these rooms
where our hearts
endure the stampede of dissolving laughter
and I find that I want the sun
to fill this old house again with poetry
that sails inside
all that we are.

Oh, if only sounds of laughter like magic
would fill our hearts with warmth
and we could be as trees
that feel the flowers around their roots
perhaps then,
we could leave these rooms.

Then we could remember the pictures
we took by the fireplace
like a brisk prick
to what is lost and forgotten
and wake memories
that once again
fill this old house
with poetry.

© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Looking Into the Transparency of Your Soul - May 08, 2012




 Looking Into the Transparency of Your Soul

Transparency of your soul looks me in the eye
and I can see the weight of the world
breathing possessively
as you whisper why.
I can read your thoughts better
than I can read your lips
and there is no question
as to what the words mean
delivered.........
with your each and every sigh.

I believe someone told you
the world wears a veiled smile
and attempts
to cling deceptively to your every breath
like a warrior breaks all stillness.
Yet, I see that you are not afraid
to sit and think
about how great men can fall in a moment
when preyed upon...........
by life's unwillingness.

Come with me when your heart aches
from standing in the shadows
of those thoughts
that have been tucked away
in the air you breathe.
Always remember that our time
waits in a path of sunlight
lying beyond the stillness
that will never fade
from all.........
that we can feel
and see.

Yes, the fingertips of happiness
strum my words
setting fires ablaze
so you can see me looking
into the transparency of your soul.
Everything is well-defined
even if it seems out of your control
and there is no need to apologize
when the weight of the world
keeps you.....
from feeling whole.

© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Monday, May 7, 2012

Even When I Know You Lie to Me - May 07, 2012



Even When I Know You Lie to Me

The beat of my heart makes it difficult
not to be blinded
by the reality of my own thoughts
when they are broken down within the sounds
of my dreams.
Yet, no one hears the wind
running through my mind
and I find nothing is
as it seems.

All I do is race to hide from the smoke of lies
to find subtle truth
inside of uncertainties colors
but what I come across
means nothing to you.
When I drift off to sleep I bleed mirrored glass
until I forget about the bruises
for a moment
or two.

I want someone to listen to the words I speak
even when breezes fill their hands
and time goes by quicker
than the air they tasted.
No longer do I wish to live and breathe
In this life of empty rooms
where my heartbeat
is wasted.

Tonight I sit and weave faith upon grounds
where forever
I have searched through eyes
that paint my mistakes with words
of ecstasy.
Yet still, the beat of my heart
makes it difficult
not to be blinded by love,
even when
I know....
you lie to me.

Copyright
©20l2 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Keen - May 06, 2012

 A little something I wrote poking fun at myself........


 Keen

There once was a poetess with a thesaurus
As big as the Adriatic Sea
She hunted down words in her book so absurd
Then tortured the world with these

She wrote lavish poems about simple drivel
Using words unknown to you and me
Inspissating her plots so we would think she was not
The hare-brain her friends knew her to be

A plethora of words she abused along with our minds
As she wrote of the redolent roses
Why could she not say how sweet they smelled
Before she beleaguered all of our noses

Now her poems are a panoply of quintessential bliss
If you have any idea what that means
I surely do not and have no intent of learning
So for now I will say she is keen


© 2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Silence Speaks - May 05, 20l2




Silence Speaks

Moments full of thoughts
live inside
the spiderwebs running through my mind
they are colder than the brick
of my will.
Like the gates of a carnival
never tell the answer
to their riddles
so my thoughts
walk.........
with no favor of you still.

Vast lengths of my attention
have been ringing through time
and unraveling
into problems with every second
passing by.
Yet,
the silence
I write across these pages
says more about how I feel
than you know
or care........
to recognize.
.
.
.
Copyright ©2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Friday, May 4, 2012

My Fingertips Find Your Picture - May 04, 20l2




My Fingertips Find Your Picture

I caressed your face in a picture of you
with fingertips wanting to know
how the light fills your eyes.
Immediately my fascination turned
into a rushing drive
held perfectly in the middle
of where your heart touches the warmth
of all my memories.

These thoughts alone gather
to capture the moon,
can you not see me wrapped
in continuous seasons
when I walk under the same sky
above where you sit?
My mind wanders and I close my eyes,
wishing you were here,
my fingertips find your picture,
caress your lips.

Copyright ©2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm