Martas poems

Sometimes the sun rises in streaks of pink that reach across the darkness like fingers of light painting a beauty, delicate and unique sweet and soft like a Japanese print Others, its light appears angry and intense like a force emanating from hell, its brightness from behind the trees projecting and the purpura rays making the sky so red it looks like the forest is burning. and still, other times, like today the sun just slips out from his home in the dark with a message of love in his rays and... Sign in to see full entry.

My sweet friend, hold my hand and face the sun for there no shadow lingers and no ghost will dare to dwell. See the sights and sounds and wonders of life past your sorrow's veil. Taste the beauty and sweet colors of gentle winds unblocked and free. and walk unincumbered by other's sins to the clear waters and powder like sands of the paradise you've dreamed about I will be there to hold your heart till all the stars have entered your night and the moon has softly lit all those places you thought... Sign in to see full entry.

Her son is going to war, the son she 'd held so close her little boy, her life, her love, the one that plays with butterflies never catches them, but tries and tries, the one that writes poems to the moon... and thinks that autumn ends too soon, flesh of her flesh so much a part of her... She smiles to hide her fears wiping her eyes to errase tears born deep inside her soul, for she knows... she knows it all and she wonders if she should tell, open his eyes to the awaiting hell, to the cries of... Sign in to see full entry.

There is a rock in the garden now covered with snow, a rock that stands proudly against all the winds at it throw. Its dark surface contrasting with the white reflects like a mirror the lights of the night. In that reflection, there is a mysterious door that only in dreams can be reached, a mystical door which appears among the stars way high up, always closed. Only when the hour is late and one is searching for what things mean, only then it opens and lets some through, but if the meaning... Sign in to see full entry.

W hite winter skies, drained of blues, Blank, but not empty, like canvases erased. Ghosts of past clouds run within them, stirred by cold, misty humid winds. My ghosts are also disturbed by the empty sight of nothingness, ghosts of ideas and feelings that once were, essences that remained behind when I thought I had forgotten, images of those I have loved and lost... they all come back to haunt me, when I stare at the sky, on white, blank, winter days. Sign in to see full entry.

I t had been raining for several days, a heavy steady rain with numbing sounds that murmured a name. Everything was gray and frozen. The cold sipped through my skin making me tremble... and want... and remember... a touch, a kiss. They were wonderfully terrible wet nights full of the sounds of the rushing waters and wind, nights I could have sworn G-d had made for me to think. But today, the lake water is blue. very blue and blinding with sun. There are bubbling streams everywhere running over... Sign in to see full entry.

I look outside and see the soft light of a setting sun bathing the naked trees in my backyard... A surreal sight, to look outside and find everything painted in mauve light, as if the fingers of the new born night had reached out from the other side to caress and ease the world into the dark. I wish there was some special light that would envelope my aching heart and ease it into its goodnight. I like writing in the dark. It feels private, like if I were alone, alone in a path to find what I... Sign in to see full entry.

The rain in the city was either sad, soft and persistent or torrencial and inconvenient, but always inconsequential, for instead of being an event the rain falling on the buildings always became part of the city itself, not stopping anything, not changing much... but today, in the forest, the rain was special, magical, intense, and with the infinite possibilities of its wet touch, it drenched the trees, the soil, my soul melting upon all, with an immense confused sound not unlike that of a... Sign in to see full entry.

I was Earth and you were Fire We ran through life together like two fugitives from the same sentence. I loved you so much, not because I shared your bed, but because you were my mate, my warmth, my shade. I was a child when we met, but I loved you like a woman loves a man, without second thoughts, without regrets. It is sad that after all that we have gone through we should be growing apart, me and you, and because this is so true...it is so sad I gave you my dreams and you gave me yours. I... Sign in to see full entry.

T he light of the moon does not shine through my window in the middle of the lonely night and the stars have lost their shine for I don't want to wish upon their soothing light, At dawn the sun comes up without colors, and the sea looks gray and sad; my heart has noticed your absence, my whole body aches for your heart, so in the west, when the day is dying the sun will have to go off without my goodbye and no hues of mauve and amethyst will color his parting sky. Sign in to see full entry.

The wind pushing the leaves that had fallen to the floor towards a mauve colored sunset... and the cool river's water running so slow as if it did not want to leave us, did not want to go. The trees witnessing our love standing silent where they had always been, their branches moved by that wind making sweet rushing sounds... lulling us to sleep as the clouds dancing in the sky watch us weep- I, I sit here remembering it all with the deafened angst of a submerged anchor that is forced to hear... Sign in to see full entry.

A river runs mighty and free through mountains and plains on his way to the sea. It does not know what it wants, what it seeks but it flows forward towards what it cannot yet see, without stopping to look at the flowers that the prairie adorn, or to delight in the sweet fragrance of the spring mountain air, it rushes trough everything, it does not care about the beautiful colors of the sunsets, the dawns, or any of the other wonders it misses as it runs, and that never again will happen the same... Sign in to see full entry.

How sadly sweet is the sound of that voice now silent as the memory of its whispers fills my mind...my soul, tugging so hard at my heart that I sometimes forget to breathe, forget to remember the love its words were drenched in, forget the gift that it was, the gift that it still is, Sometimes, I let myself imagine that voice I so need, that voice I so miss, still softly speaking to me... mitigating the sadness of dark nights like this, when the stars, seen through my tears, loose their shine... Sign in to see full entry.

To try to explain love to someone that has not been in love is like trying to explain to a blind man what the sky looks like full of stars or how the many colors of a rainbow, so different, look so beautiful all together in their giant arch. Only one who has been in love can understand love, for only having been there does one know the incessant excitement that makes one's blood rush, the primal need to always be near that one person that is more important to us than we are to ourselves. Only... Sign in to see full entry.

They tell me sometimes love just ends, that one stops loving without knowing why, without regrets, and that it is a funny feeling... like opening one's hand, finding it empty and wondering what was it that from it had escaped, They tell me its like the feeling of walking over dried leaves, hearing them crunch under one's feet and knowing that in spite of their beauty they are dead. They say one stops feeling love all of a sudden though one might still think one's loving... just like a blind man... Sign in to see full entry.

It rains hard... a soft rain, unencumbered by thunder of hail and I walk drenched in the life giving, life taking waters that from heaven fall. Its gray and bleak all around in the darkened sky where the clouds cry on, but I smile...feeling small in the middle of it all and at the same time somehow tall, like I could reach the top of those trees that dance back and forth to the music of the wind. People run to hide behind their walls but I walk on happily listening to the storm. The rain... Sign in to see full entry.

I know a place down the shore... where a river dies and becomes the sea a place where one can stop time and sit and stare into the wonder of that mystical line where sky begins and dreams end, a place where mystery fills the empty heart with the unsettled wings of want. It is in that place, where my soul finds the reasons it forgot it had for wishing what it does not have, feeling free to fly up high into that ethereal, mysterious line that no one has ever reached except in dreams. Its in that... Sign in to see full entry.

A leaf floats slowly, in the warm sunset glow, falling ever so gently towards the wet, fertile soil, and as it drifts down, it turns gracefully in the breeze, dancing around to the music of the waves braking on the reef, eventually coming to lie quietly on the floor before me\. Golden, magnificent, It is far away from the branches that gave it life, but it seems tranquil, serene, as if it just awaited the passage of time, surrendering peacefully to its destiny, to its part in the whole. and... Sign in to see full entry.

Long... long ago, on a cold but colorful Fall, I dreamed the wildest dreams inside a little attic room at the end of a long unfurnished hall. In it, a large bay window overlooked the beach below, a beach that very few sunny days saw but which knew the sting of cold winds like the ones that many years before I had come to know, while laying face down in that litle room's floor with my feet perched against its door. That old door that cricked and stuck, when closed, allowed me to create between... Sign in to see full entry.

T onight, by the flickering life of a candle, I can feel the emptiness enveloping me, invading the very core of my being. Maddening thoughts arising from some dark corner of the soul rarely touched unleash terror the mind cannot understand. All that I know is torn apart In the realization that every dream is an illusion... All I am meant to be will never come to pass Life is what it is, and though the woman that stares back at me from the mirror seems young still... full of life, I know the... Sign in to see full entry.