Saint Peter, MN
Poems For a Forgotten Soul
“Le temps est un grand maître, dit-on. Le malheur est qui’il tue ses élèves.”- Hector Berlioz
“We say that time is a great teacher. It’s too bad that it kills all its students.” (English Translation)
Stand up straight, Take it in
To be in the spotlight, is to be blinded by the lights.
The cameras, the celebrities
To be in fancy dresses and gowns
Is to be in a corset and to strangle yourself of air.
Men say YOU take their breath away with your stride,
Women say YOU shine in the lights,
I say I’m taking my breath away on purpose.
To be perfect is to be made of glass
Beautifully molded, easily broken.
Eating is a luxury.
My dress only shows my bones.
To make money off of starvation
Isn’t that impressive?
To be a model is to be a skeleton
Beautiful figures, beautiful shapes.
Gaze into the Lights.
Sitting at an easel. Blank paper. Fresh brush, unused. Paint. New smells, new colors, and new horizons. Taking the brush and mixing the colors to make a new blue. A new sky, baby blue. I sit on my stool, music moving with a brush along my ears. Painting the song in my mind. Painting the song on my paper, baby blue skies first. A meadow of green and yellow. Flowers, lavender and rose red.
Painting a park, where I used to play. Sunshine yellow. Sky is getting darker. Sitting on a green swing set. Clear rain. Yellow raincoat. Running to get back home. Grey sidewalk. Moving the orange gate. Getting closer to my home, a white house.
Painting a house. Memories paint a picture in my mind. Tracing from memory. Every detail. My mom comes to with a blanket and hot chocolate.
What color is home?
Baby Blue for me.
Painting a memory is easy, the painting is already in your heart.
Rain falling on a
leaf, green and luscious, fresh
Wind moving it here.