I can’t quite figure out how to fit everything I am into you. Fit all the time into all the rooms of all the people I have ever loved. Sometimes I wonder why it’s worth it and then I’m alone and someone is talking into my ear from 438 miles away. I can’t sleep and I can’t stay awake and I have no appetite or want for water but all I know is I have not had my daily intake of home today. The tears keep falling. Maybe I need to put down the phone before I drown you.
This city does not fit me. I drive down roads that only sometimes have a second lane. And I know I have never considered myself a city girl or a social butterfly or even needed more than a front yard but I know I need more than this. More? That might be selfish to say; there are people that would be lucky to live here. But this is so far from what I am used to, they say it is helping me grow, I am growing down into the dirt and I don’t want to be rooted here.
I don’t fit my skin. I can’t quite figure out how much I want to pour into everywhere I’ve been, when I can’t even pour into myself. I split into tiny little pieces and when I put them back together I can’t find more than half of who I was. I push months, centuries, seconds under a microscope slide and I can’t make them big enough to matter or small enough to be home soon. I can’t fit myself into somewhere I don’t know and I can’t make small enough pieces of time to fit into everywhere I want to love. I can’t fit love into time. I come home to something that’s mine but it doesn’t feel like mine. You are what’s mine. I need to come home to arms I can wrap around me. I need to come home
my father is a fortified man
with dark, verdant eyes
that shame the forest moss
that burn harsh and cold
seeing through deception
honest, stern, but fair
my mother is a gentle woman
with soft, cerulean eyes
that transcend the clearest sea
that glow bright and warm
always saying the right thing
tolerant, caring, but unwavering
and I was born with that azure gaze
though mine is not same
on half my left eye
a drop of my father's jade
and so I see the world
as an even balance
through both my parents eyes
"This is it,
the last time.
Not my last time,
for there will be many more,
but before I go,
take a second.
Or two.
As though leaving a humble abode
for the last time.
Or realistically,
one to be proud of,
one no need for humility.
A tendency to be crass,
the one-stop coffeeshop
that was the first building
foot stepped in,
the exact final destination
of a journey
across from
one Ocean to the next.
First impressions,
wild differences between
vernacular and tone,
'shaka brah',
and an immediate inquiry
as to where the hell
I come from.
Brash,
but immediately warm
the very first contact
turned out to be,
only to observe
more than a year of stumbles,
pieces scribbled,
baristas in and out,
one to be a brother
calling this location
headquarters,
locomotives blaring by
in a flash of red
everyday.
Bicentennial
the count not of years,
but of poetic conveyance,
written in the soft glow
of this shop,
this shop the subject
times so often giving
detail to who,
what, where,
and how that one girl,
that one time,
smelt as she walked by.
Edited,
the time spent
since the Spring,
but some things never change,
and that's how at home
I feel in this booth.
Bottoms up,
here's to you,
one last brew,
one last time.
No more lines
to be written
here,
skate to the next place,
though it won't be the same."
August.26.2002
Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins
After we past away
And the new life we must go on to
We'll see a darkness at first
But then our soul will be awaken
From an angel of light
It's not mistaken
But it's a gorgeous warming sight
Now it's up to God to decide
If this life was wrongfully taken
And if so It's not your time
To go on to your next mission
Because you have not yet reached your prime
Take care of your unfinished business
Then you may return
By the angels sight
Flying so high on a soft feathered wing
And by then your next life you'll have earned
Such excitement it'll bring
After the sadness has passed you
It wont take too long
You did great in your past
Now it's time to move on strong
Because you'll have those memories that last
So when you see a beam of light
That looks bright as the sun
You'll see an angel flight
Then you'll know you are the chosen one
So if all unfinished business is done
Please with gods angel don't fight
A place in the heavens you've won
An angel by light
Is the most greatest thing
This angel will take you to the greatest heights
To Gods love This angel will bring
Copyright*
whether in angst or sorrow or bliss,
our tears are like the ice
that melts off mountains
to form new rivers and streams.
the sound of a symphony,
the wail of a newborn baby,
the anguished weeping heard
in between church prayers
at a funeral service,
the dreamy fixed gaze
in the eyes of a woman,
holding her great grandchild
for the first time.
reading the handwritten
love sonnet from a beloved...
and sometimes,
just the perfection
and sychronicity felt with
the sight of a mere sunrise or sunset
that touches the heart
and reminds us of what beauty is....
or the remnants of a life...
even a death,
after the fury
of mother nature has spoken
truth of powers
that we mere human beings
know nothing of.
It is those things
and those things only
that we continue on this journey for.
the journey we call life,
that is welded and weaved
with the tears
of all human beings
who ever walked the earth.
all human beings
who have cried the same tear,
in moments of happiness, sadness....fear,
an inseparable kinship,
an anchor between,
it's that "something" we reach for,
that's there, but unseen.
the human experience, collectively,
shares many emotions while we're here,
and this fabric called life weaves it's tapestries best,
...with its invisible thread of "the tear".
*****
2015, January
With falsity and neglictory,
With lies and efiface,
With hope begone a truth,
Thy soul bounded multiude.
Begone a hopeless dreams.
Beyond a place unseen.
An abyss of solitude,
Ages of things begone.
Beyond a mighty shield,
A pile moves/grows,
Not Delay taint unclean,
Ever vigilant of change.
An act that lies,
Can only be ugly,
A move made already,
Cannot be taken back.
We see an illusion.
They show a mirage.
A move already made,
And they keep it so.
Rebel Rebel hopeless soul.
Fight, Fight lest unfilled,
Through thy Red blood,
Keep the fight alive.
Thy hand hold another,
lest be bad end.
A fight continue definite,
A fight won Indefinite.
A world unseen granted,
For those beyond grasp,
A rising sun uncovers,
For they deserve it.
And it all started,
With a single phrase,
"Let it be so."
Will it be though?
- Eventim
you're a hundred unfinished poems taking up space under my bed
you're a million pictured memories collecting dust inside my head
you're the voice I hear singing in the dead still of the night
when everything is wrong, you're the only thing that's right.
♥
New.
A small pithy three letter word,
And yet it brings with it,
Great promise, possibilities, growth,
Abundance,
And joys galore.
♥
New.
♥
A way of thought process,
That enriches,
Nourishes,
Revives,
Refreshes,
And LOVES.
♥
The "new" year is about to make its entrance
Upon us all.
The year of the snake sheds its skin,
For us all,
So that we may experience the gravity
Of "new" hopes,
Joys,
Dreams,
Beginnings,
And yes, sorrows too.
♥
I package the old and less hopeful
Dreams,
Joys,
And sorrows,
With love and care,
I tuck them into a safe shelter
With the promise of "new",
And I welcome the wonder and excitement
Of what the universe has in store for
The coming days.
♥
The memories of the old and torn pieces
Remain forever glorious in their shining
Recollection,
As I carry them with me,
Forever
"New".
And when I reminisce
Upon their well worn edges,
Withered and frayed from
The strain of creating the beauty of their possibilities
That will continue to evolve,
I will accept with open arms,
The gifts they left behind
With new joy,
New hope,
New promise,
And new possibilities for them to grow into
All that makes this universe
New...
Beautiful,
And worth living in.
♥
New.
♥