Look!
I’ve caught a poem –
Crept up on it quietly
And caught it in a net of words.
Open the lines gently and set it free,
That it may fly
Into the minds
Of those who pass,
So they may say,
Of something that makes them stop
To look and wonder,
Or to laugh or cry,
“I read a poem about this once-
Someone else has felt like me.”
Poem by Anne Bell
My fingers painted
Poetry with blood dripping
From my bleeding heart
I kept my heart as closed as the unopened books standing on the bookshelf waiting to be read. And all was quiet and safe, I lived my life, living day to day, viewing the world in black and white. Until the time came that my heart was pried open and all the passion overflowed like a volcano erupting, destroying any semblance of normality. Overwhelming emotion proving the capacity to love with a force unrecognizable to everything that was ever known before.
I blink back the tears
As the stinging starts
From inside me I can feel
My eyes redden as pools
Of water well up
And start to overflow
I swallow and try to deny
The pain inside of me
The sky shifted
When I wasn’t looking
Overcast grey clouds
Heavy burdened awareness
Of darkness approaching
Lifted
Out of nowhere
The sun is shining
Caressing my skin
Licking, teasing, touching
And out of nowhere
I feel happy
I feel the feelings that make me feel
Alive and sad and aware and glad
I cry my tears and smile my smiles
Revel in the silence that makes me whole
For I live and breathe and think and am
And when I’m gone my words will stand
Being one with nature
Caught out in the rain
Lightning, cold and thunder
I try escape my pain
Angry skies begin to roar
Directed all at me
I stand my ground, refuse
To yield my liberty
When I am sad, write me glad
When I am down, write me up
When I am low, write me high
When I am blue, write me bright
When I despair, write me happy
I sent a few words
Wondering if they would merely be
Returned to sender
You added your words
Turning incompleteness complete
And sent them to me
The feelings simmer as
Words begin to bubble
Mixing as they begin
To boil, the tension rises
Heat gets hotter
Rushing quicker, faster
Pressure building –
Boiling point
Poems and Petals 