Author: TrisaThyme

Untitled Poem

Awash in Moonlight The dark dome Called her back To childhood Where these same shadowed curves Were lit by a different light Blinding from below Awareness Of these spaces around her Known Without sight As if a part of her own Silhouette Dancing the door to Memory Open wider, and yet again All the colors are spilt out right And freed The grey haze of pain Washed With colors vivid and true Into a new time Entirely...

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The Lost Hills of Home

The Lost Hills of Home The coyotes call And I would answer them If it weren’t for the lump in my throat This silent cry Is answered though If only by the distant sea Breathed across the wild hills Echoed in the canyons Blue with night! The moon luminous And bright! This dream is only a memory Of the earth As it was When I was young Nature’s little children Are quiet now Their songs are only sung In my heart Humming to me there I will not forget The rare bird’s peep Or the gentle deer’s mystery Their beds of wildflowers are now wiped away The teeming life of the hills Are now gone By the clashing, Metal teeth of man-made machines Nature’s music was so rudely hushed And for this my heart is forever crushed Saying farewell to the green frogs Wet! Singing in the rainy rivulets Sharing those tears even yet With the souls that I have met The glory of the milky way Before the stars were dimmed Now hiding behind a hazy dome Of city lights Is what Was once What I called...

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Open Gate

The gates of my Heart are wide open The keys lay alone in the Garden Oceans of tears cannot wash away the pain That has been tattooed on my Spirit A dark ink binds me to my human tribe A pounding rain, a bloody reign Cannot drown the thundering cry of my Soul I can only smile on at the gentle, bending curve of the wildflower Heavy with the weight of the sky Reflecting a world Upside-down A  world that wills to be righted A warm golden light blazes Through the Forest’s cathedral Raising steam In the darkest depths of the Woods Where fear and anger have lain Silent In the mossy Earth Rotting with the death of Trees A fragrant breeze stirs me I have been slow to Awaken To the sweet bird’s gentle Song Singing of Soaring Over the Sea’s steady waves Crashing on the walls of my heart A thousand tiny Suns Blooming in the Night Dancing before my eyes Dreams daring to take...

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Fiery Reflections

photo of Olympic Mountains by Camas Baugh I’m glad to see the flowers still Holding on to their bright petals Determined as I to not feel The cold breath of winter As the morning sun slowly stretches Across the icy peaks Burning with snowy coals The blazing heat from the fire I lit Reflects in the glass As night fades away Beyond these flames The mountain bends down To peer at itself in the dark waters Streaking the canal with every shade of pink Its beauty so surreal It could sail away Like  inverted clouds on a puff of air Instead satisfied With it’s own rich paintings of itself In the water Remains solid Now blinding in its new garment of white Dressed warm in its blanket of fresh snow No longer an unearthly vision Or romantic dream But a true friend Permanently fixed like a jewel on the...

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What It Means To Be Poor

  What It Means To Be Poor What it means to be poor, Is that there simply is no more For dinner There is rice, But nothing that is nice When there isn’t gas, The car doesn’t go… So you must walk, even in the snow If they turn off the power You can still wash your work clothes In the shower! Even if you work your feet into blisters You will still be lazy In the eyes of all those rich ass misters! Even if your tummy growls Don’t forget to warm their towels! You must not tell Anyone you suffer Or they are sure to make your life much rougher If you lose your home Your children they are sure to take A kindness that is fake If your family knows your need They will avoid you in their greed It is a rare stranger That will care And give to you What they can spare It is a lie to say that life is fair So try not to stare… And reach out your hand, If you want to be...

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