Creative Healing

The music sings. And the world changes.
The paints blend. And happiness is colored.
sad hearts grow warm
rejuvenated by lovely melodies
a smile momentarily hides frowning lips
and I hear them laugh
for the first time
laughter drowns tears
sad eyes glow
little feet tap
little hands capture
a paintbrush saturated with color
and images dance
across a once blank page
in rythme with the tunes
the music, the art, the mind, the heart
come together in creative dance
for a single moment
troubles melt away
they escape the darkness
that clouds their regular days
days no child should ever suffer through
creative sound, creative mind, creative heart
the creative dance
HEALING SOUNDS
HEALING COLORS
HEALING MINDS
HEALING HEARTS
©2010 L.Warren

Catch

cleverly weave your words into a shining net
eight lines, two rhymes, one tripling
is all you get
your one chance to catch me if you so dare...
weave your great lines into a shining net
weave them into a perfected triolet
catch me if you can
catch me if you want
I dare you
weave your words cleverly
silent poetry boy
I dare you

©2010 L. Warren

Static Noise

too loud
static noise

bothersome

i hate it
swallowing the sanity of my mind
what little is left of it

static noise
looks like people
sounds like people

i am tired of people
and their
twisted ways
delusional thoughts
crooked points-of-view
tired, tired, tired
of
this static noise
tired of
people

©2010 L.Warren

Porcelain

Like porcelain
my heart breaks
spider-veining fissures
grow to consume its last
rythmic beat
of hope...
the knife of reality
stabs at me palyfully
toying with me
a sick game
never taking hold
completely
never finishing the kill
a sea of confusion
washes through my brain
sucking me under
drowning me in fear
my heart's shattered
illusions crash a my feet
destroying the reflections
of broken dreams
and echoed once more
in the dying beat of my heart
before it completely succumbs
to the despair
crimson droplets of tears
streak down my face
staining red
my reality...
©2010 L.Warren

My Heart's Nightmare

A blooming golden sunrise
chases a daydream to the sky
a daydream colored red
like love, like passion
a daydream of what
I have not
I don't chase chase dreams
anymore
especially dreams of love
love fades away
down the road in twilight
becoming vanished thoughts
perplexing my yesterdays
haunting my tomorrows
while, today, I am left
still contemplating
what love was,

is,

is not
perhaps never will be
for me
my daydream
is

my heart's nightmare

©2010 L.Warren

Storm is Over

The night storm, over at last
the sky becomes starry and cloudless
I noticed the birth of dawn
slowly crowning the horizon.
Daylight flooded the sky
I can consider it now...

the birth of something new
the night storm over at last
the nightmare finished
my new beginning
starting over
©2010 L.Warren

48. Ode on Melancholy

John Keats (1795–1821). The Poetical Works of John Keats. 1884.

NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.