Distant Self

(a poem about bulimia)
She kneels desperately as her troubles are flushed alongside the rumble and thrashing of her soul. Demons intrude pilfering her spirit that beckons to be again. She parts from her fleshly existence into a world of forgiveness while begging, oh my distant self, please come back to me… for I wish to no longer be theirs. Sandra ©2010

 
While I am  yours
While you claimed my heart I learned to recognize it,
for to me it was unknown. What future shall
we have my love, if for the challenge we should part;
and though uncertain it may be, I shall compare my life without. Eternal is the promise that, today I shall be yours;
and in this life I offer you my heart, that no longer to pain and sorrow it belongs.    Sandra  ©2010

When it comes to dreamers…
Unlike the man wearing silver and gold, the humble man is always unseen. His dreams are taken for granted and those with power pass him by. Until the day that someone sees the gold and silver in his eyes and hears it in his voice the humble man will continue on his path alone.
And even if his long and hard trail takes him to a different meadow the sun will shine on him and his dream..For Ever!  Sandra  ©2010

Unbreakable
We are unknown to ourselves when we are visited by life’s unwanted circumstances that so often touch our soul. We allow ourselves to dissipate in pessimism while we do the things we don’t want to do, feel the things we shouldn’t feel, and act as if we were ignorant to what is true. The truth which lifts our broken spirit when it crashes down. The truth that will keep you believing in….Your dreams and hopes; Life’s possibilities; and…The unbreakable you!
Sandra ©2010

 Triumph
It is redemption that I feel when I am with you, suddenly the forlorn past slithers silently entering the gate. I convey only to myself by the tears falling in my company, and my unspoken words are my invisible friend. In my stillness I marvel at the possibility to disregard the yesterday, and the impending elation of our bliss becomes my stanchion. Today is today, and the tomorrow is yet to be. I know that although in my silence my heart aches, it peacefully awaits for the embrace of triumph.
Sandra  ©2010

Distant Self
(a poem about bulimia)
She kneels desperately as her troubles are flushed alongside the rumble and thrashing of her soul. Demons intrude pilfering her spirit that beckons to be again. She parts from her fleshly existence into a world of forgiveness while begging, oh my distant self, please come back to me… for I wish to no longer be theirs. Sandra ©2010

Monster by my side
There are times when I hear the words in my voice… There are times when I hear the words in yours. The monster comes inside and speaks the scariest words of all.. “I give up.” I am only one and the world is against me. I am exhausted and I am scared. I am alone. I can’t go on; I can’t move, I hurt, I cry and I swear I can’t go on. It strips me of it, those thoughts of pessimism; regret, and pain. It strips me of the dream…the hope, and I say once more… I can’t go on.  I give up. Then..he comes inside and I dream again… for a split moment I dream again. Can the monster go away?  If I decide to make a change, if I decide to start today. Yes… one by one, they can go away and  I can live again..one by one the change can begin, one by one… day by day. Sandra ©2010
 

My Truth
Yield to judge or utter your ruling without knowing my heart…
for you have never asked me what its suffered, where it’s been or who it’s loved.
Part with conclusions; and cease from sentencing me,
because you have never cried my truth.
In my addiction for peace and simple bliss…
I’ve learned to defend my right;
knowing that I will keep my soul clear,
shattering those full of judgment and pessimistic frights.
So surrender and cry your own truth with no measures…
that it may free your heart and open your own to unknown pleasures.
Sandra ©2010

As you travel to the field of dreams.
Time and time again we walk toward the field of dreams….
On the way there, we come across barricades and climbs,
inclining us to lose focus on the journey;
centering only on the hurdles and our limited time.
We are drained; but continue our travel,
damning the hurdles while our body, mind and soul unravel.

We affirm negative thoughts allowing pessimism
and distrust, while questioning why it is
that our own world is so unjust.

It seems like we will never get there,
and with apathy and confusion we renounce,
we live no more for the dream
and no longer will our heart hopeful words announce.

Tired and weary, we see a glimmer of light;
while we hear the encouragement
of he who accomplished the trip and the flight.

With hope we are eager to hear;
but not however without, comparing our
hurdles and justifying our fears.

How did he make it we ask… questioning their trip and road to ours,
could it be that maybe in the day; God gave him a more amount of hours.

I tried alone to make it, voicing to all of my transcendence,
never even accepting the hand of those and proving my independence.

We look and see the light, but still exalt our doubt;
How could he have made it, with luck he was not without.

We look but cannot see that what we didn’t care to claim,
was the fact that alone my friend.. it can never, never be attained.
Sandra ©2010

The Empty Swing 

This is my escape…I want to fly on my swing, but it’s lost.  I want to fly..fly and fly.  Where is my swing that I might meet and fly to the other world where tears do not exist.  I really never knew where to find it,  I just dreamt of it. I called for it,  over and over….”please come to my rescue and my peace.”  I really never knew where to find it.. I just dreamt of it.  My swing.  But  it stayed empty waiting for the little girl and her tears.   Sandra ©2010

Next to you
He sings to himself as the mockingbird does. I hear him in the distance and watch as his song comes alive and am allured by the sound of his strings. He sings yet his heart is silent. His strings are bound to his need of seeing his destiny appear. He sits alone with no thought but to sleep with his song. He sits with the moon, while his fragile heart almost empty of trust from sieving the sweet nectar that once dwelled is begging for understanding. He is still, while his strings attend to his gentle heart. I am next to him. I am here.   Sandra ©2009

Offering
While you claimed my heart I learned to recognize it, for to me it was unknown. What future shall we have my love, if for the challenge we should part; and though uncertain it may be, how shall I compare my life without. Eternal is the promise that today I shall be yours. Know that in this life I offer you my heart that to pain and sorrow no longer does belong. Sandra ©2010

A fortunate soul!
I live and confirm to society’s idea of suitable by defying my own inclination to live as an individualist. Who are these men that obliterate our ideas of true bliss by programming our essence? It is not the matter but rather the spirit that lasts, yet, we live our lives finding ways to obtain wealth in order to fill our houses with material rather than finding ways of filing them with laughter.   We even forget that by constantly living social conformity and status, the wondrous outcome of our children’s self expression is concealed making their uniqueness a distant reality. Who am I that have no money and am still happy? I am a fortunate soul!
Sandra ©2010

All that I live
Today you live for today;
In case there is no tomorrow.
Once dead I take nothing;
so I’ll do all I can with no sorrow.

Today I ‘m here
and that’s what truly matters;
because tomorrow unexpectedly
my body suddenly may shatter.

All that I live
is what I am truly worth;
so I’ll take all that I can
while here on this earth.

How sad can it be;
only thinking of what you take;
leaving earth uncertain;
of what to her you gave.

It’s not what you take, this you must believe;
that what matters to those you love
is what on earth you leave.
Sandra ©2010

Prayers
With his dream in his pocket,
under a tree sat a man;
hoping that for it
was not yet the end.

He lifted his eyes
so to his moon he could speak
tell me this my companion,
why does God to my dream,
appear to be bleak.

I am waiting and waiting
as my days go on by;
soon wondering and asking
if God is a lie?

Te moon answered back,
don’t stop, it is near
if you just work hard
God’s help will appear.

He will look to your work,
and proudly will say…
his wish I’ll fulfill,
for he worked night and day.

Each day filled with prayer,
each day filled with hope
still no dream to see
and soon he couldn’t cope.

He looked up and asked,
friend what should I do;
though I pray day and night
my dream won’t come true.

Listen close my dear friend;
it is still not the end;
God answers all prayers;
but a hand you must lend.
Sandra ©2010