What the Dead Know
By
Serena Mossgraves
Regrets add weight
To the soul,
Leaving knowledge
Of what life has been
Stripped away
From all that was
Worthwhile.
Instead of fighting with
What the Dead know,
The living should be
Thinking about how
To live instead.
Hell
By
Serena Mossgraves
I read somewhere
That Hell was a place
Of fire and suffering,
I think not.
Hell is familiar,
That place you go
over and over again.
Hell is repetition,
and unending.
Hell is the moment
where the pain feels
the most like home.
Perhaps there might
be suffering,
but in the moment
would you see it so?
Or would you merely accept
that this is all you have
ever really known?
Singularity
By
Patricia Harris
Perhaps I am not the person
I thought I would be,
So like everyone else.
Perhaps I am but a
singularity,
a lost note
in a song sung
by the divine.
He is not My friend
By
Patricia Harris
He said he was my buddy,
My brother, my bestie,
Anything to get me closer.
He wanted me to want more,
Wanted me hooked on
What he had in store.
He is not my friend,
He is the chills in the
Middle of the night,
He is not my friend,
He is the last minute
Need to fight.
He is not my friend,
He is my dealer.
In wildflower fields
By
Patricia Harris
when you come traveling
through the fields of flowers
pick ones far from tame
and lose yourself…
For getting lost in
The fields of wildflower
Is a music to the mind
that allows you to leave
all of your stress and worry behind.
Dead Inside
By
Serena Mossgraves
The problem with life
Is expectations are so high
So much drama and the cost of pride.
It leaves everyone feeling
Like they might just be
Dead inside.
It drills holes in the soul
For emotion to crawl into
To hide.
Lost Notes
By
Patricia Harris
My voice used to sing
A tune of wonder and
The highest moments
Of love for life…
Somehow I have
Lost Notes in my song,
My beat is off and I
Fear that the song no longer
Hits the notes
I once was capable of.
Kids say the Strangest Stuff
By Patricia Harris
Why do we grow out
Of saying the most fun
Things that can come to mind?
Hurry up and save the toothbrush,
Avoid the trip to the planet
Made of stench and stinky feet…
Be made of turtles if you need to.
Why did you stop talking to
The monsters in the closet anyway?
Kids understand the world,
The wonders that keep it alive…
So though they say some of
The strangest things,
I think the kids see more than
Anyone else does in a lifetime.
*Poet’s note. This is absolutely inspired by my friend Jenny’s Dante. She messaged me three things that he said and it reminded me of the moments when my kids were little…and I realized that kids have a magic that we tend to forget by the time adulthood comes.
Building Walls
By Patricia Harris
Everyone is so busy building walls
that we forget the reasons why
we try to hide within.
Keeping your heart from feeling,
keeping it from breaking,
is safer than trying to live
don’t you know?
building walls in front of my dreams
stops the pain from ever entering,
it stops people from touching the tender places
that I can’t heal from the other hands
that left me broken.
Bitch with me
By Patricia Harris
The urge to just complain,
Not that you want to
Really anything change,
Just venting steam to release
And start again.
This is in the nature of the game,
Instead of fixing the problem
Whine and complain,
To feel better again.
Pattimouse 