Sorrows of a Ghost (Douleurs d'un Fantôme)

The other night I was talking to my friend about when I used to speak French. I really did used to speak it! I lived in Europe a long time ago. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to translate one of my poems into French. It's just a little poem I wrote last night. I think it's a beautiful language and I miss hearing it.

My destiny will be ghosts occupying my heart, taking fever from my soul

Abstract affection is what possesses me

Hurting, still bleeding

Fading into the midst of my imagination

My beautiful love for you, diminishing

I am always here, why can't you see me?

Pleading with the roses to take painful retrospection from my mind

Honesty cutting my heart into pieces, falling on the ground, turning into ashes.

Closing my eyes, I am invisible to you

Asking me for a dance, holding your hand

You let me go before I could embrace you

Mon destin sera fantômes occupent mon cœur, en prenant la fièvre de mon âme

Résumé affection est ce qui me possède

Mal, saignement encore

Fading au milieu de mon imagination
Mon bel amour pour vous, la diminution du
Je suis toujours ici, pourquoi ne pas me voir?
Plaidant avec les roses, à prendre la rétrospection douloureuse de mon esprit
Honnêteté coupe mon cœur en morceaux, en tombant sur le sol, se transformant en cendres.
En fermant les yeux, je suis invisible pour vous
me demander une danse, la tenue de votre main
Vous me laisser partir avant que je puisse vous embrasse

Some poems

I write poems and and blog posts that just sit here in my drafts. So, I decided to post a few. On the last one I used a template, you just fill in the words you want and it gives you a format. I did that on one of my earlier poems I posted. I really don't know what I am doing as far as poetry goes....so, anyway, here you go. :)

Blue Embers

The coldness of the grave gives me solace after the fire goes out

The presence of your ghost surrounds me

Unchanging austere glances burn my heart to the ground

Falling onto the white steps, blood begins to drip on my neck

Petals tumble on my soul to disguise the distress

My mask becomes too thin to believe the revelations

Devils dwell in my essence, taking me to an obscure misery

My unredeemed body lays still

Dreams of Sand

Reality is hard to bear when it comes at you in a storm......

Dreaming and believing you are the only one to live in a heart.......

Transparent to the world, not knowing what is real or fantasy.....

The door shut me in, I can see the words of truth floating behind me.....

The winds force the sting of defeat in my face, knocking me to the ground.....

I believed it was me, I believed it was you....

I didn't know I was living in dreams of sand.....

All I Want

All I want is someone to understand
Someone to love

All I want is someone to understand
Someone to care
Someone to be there

All I want is someone to understand
Someone to shoot me to the stars
Someone to hold my heart
Someone to save me from falling

All I want is someone to understand
Someone to hold me near
Someone to share my dreams
Someone to bleed
Someone to feel

All I want is you

Blood Moon

When it comes time to confess, will it matter?

The blood moon will shine bright in our realization

My words will be forgotten, my face will be forgotten

Ending up alone, standing before the final days

Shadows will be the only thing to comfort me

When it comes time to bleed, will it matter?

The blood moon will darken the world's consciousness

My love will be forgotten, my soul will be forgotten

One woman of many, judged the same

Isolation will be the only thing to hold me

When it comes time to remember, will it matter?

The blood moon will consume our hearts to make us forget

And it won't matter at all.

My Love Poem

Trapped in box of steel,

no escape, no hope,

Turning around in my head,

nowhere to go,

Madness comes forth, beauty refrains,

Sadness is in our midst,

Youth is gone forever,

stuck in the clouds in the sky,

Kites can touch it but can't bring it down,

Stars cry and the moon bleeds,

Love is dying.

I Am

I am nice and sweet
I wonder why
I hear voices
I see blinking lights
I want somebody to understand me
I am nice and sweet

I pretend to be pretty
I feel overwhelmed
I touch the stars
I worry about the world
I cry because I can't see
I am nice and sweet

I understand God
I love my children
I dream about spiderwebs
I try to be happy
I hope to be successful
I am nice and sweet

The Other Side of a Mirror

I haven't updated my blog for a long time because everything I have started I haven't been able to finish. I am in a creative rut. I haven't taking pictures, I haven't been reading books, everything has been put on hold. I am trying to decide what direction I am going in..."read the directions directly you will be directed in the right direction." I was reading some poetry online and I came across this poem from Mary Elizabeth Coleridge. The Other Side of a Mirror. Maybe why I a little lost is because I am spending too much time on the other side of a mirror, and for some strange reason I like it there. It's a beautiful poem, I hope you enjoy it.

I sat before my glass one day,

And conjured up a vision bare,

Unlike the aspects glad and gay,

That erst were found reflected there -

The vision of a woman, wild

With more than womanly despair.

Her hair stood back on either side

A face bereft of loveliness.

It had no envy now to hide

What once no man on earth could guess.

It formed the thorny aureole

Of hard, unsanctified distress.

Her lips were open - not a sound

Came though the parted lines of red,

Whate'er it was, the hideous wound

In silence and secret bled.

No sigh relieved her speechless woe,

She had no voice to speak her dread.

And in her lurid eyes there shone

The dying flame of life's desire,

Made mad because its hope was gone,

And kindled at the leaping fire

Of jealousy and fierce revenge,

And strength that could not change nor tire.

Shade of a shadow in the glass,

O set the crystal surface free!

Pass - as the fairer visions pass -

Nor ever more return, to be

The ghost of a distracted hour,

That heard me whisper: - 'I am she!'