Sunny days, summer haze

Poetry Project time! The line was Sunny days, summer haze. Wrote this one alongside my gf, Crystal!

(ok, what is this poetry project? Well we both write a poem using the same line! You can suggest a line or I can suggest it, and then we get writing!)

Here we go!

Poem #1 (hers)

Sunny days summer haze
Treetops swaying in the wind
Green grass pretty flowers
All abloom on the hill

There you stand by the stream
Throwing rocks in freely
How I wish I could be
Carefree as you seem to be

Butterfly floating by
Jumping from flower to flower
You chase it through the grass
Laughing happy as can be

Growing taller every day
Maturing in front of me
How quickly childhood flees
Gone in the blink of an eye

Time passes so briskly
It won't be long until
I'll yearn to ponder these
Sunny days with summer haze


Poem #2 (mine)

She retreats to her favorite spot,

A loungechair under a rainbow printed umbrella,

And blissfully soaks up the heat.

Her long blonde hair and sunkissed skin absorb the sun, while

the aroma of her favorite flowers float through the air.

Condensation runs down a glass of iced tea, while she hides

her big curious eyes behind oversized sunglasses

A folder full of paper and a pencil rest on the arm of her chair,

waiting to be opened.

For there is poetry deep within her waiting to be discovered.

Oh how she loves sunny days, summer haze. 

A time to sit still and reflect,

to write and to heal.

She takes a sip of her chilled tea, 

blinks her curious blue eyes, 

takes a deep cleansing breath, 

and opens the folder.  

We hope you enjoyed!!

xo, \

Lizzy 

her soul was the color the sky

Poetry Project time!!

It's been a while! I am excited to start this up again! If any of you want to get involved with my poetry project, drop me a tweet, or message me on my fb page!

This time around I wrote with my sister Krystal. She is a talented soul.

Enjoy!

Mine:

Red Hot and Spreading
Her Wildness is contagious,

like fire

Red Hot and Spreading.

Her Wildness burns you to the core,

Leaving you no choice but to

succumb to her,

and fly into the sky,

ashes mixed with air.

Freedom teases you.

but you cannot escape her either

for her Soul is the color of the sky,

decorated with fire,

Red Hot and Spreading.

Hers:

Liar

Lies spewed from her lips that she truly believed

of scenarios and facts that she skillfully conceived

Her lack of true fact lay hidden under dust

while onlookers believed her and all the words that she thrust

Her soul was the color of the sky

when the clouds opened up and decided to cry

so she made up these stories to make her feel good

but they never felt as happy as the truth naturally would

Soon she was the joker and everyone knew

Her words were just lies to make her look cool

Let us know what you think!! 

xo,

Lizzy

When she's scared

She's doing that thing
she does
When she's scared.
She's survived hell,
and then come back.
Not for more.

Where is the long awaited happy ending?
The life long commitment to peaceful bliss?

Unsure of it's possibility,
she does that thing
she does
when she's scared. 

but sure.

she sits in the dark,
at the end of the day.
Tea in hand,
her favorite song playing.
and she is proud.
Another day survived.
Her fire is returning.
slow, but sure.
Slow, but sure.

the spark

there was once a spark.
in it's place, a hole.
she can't recognize
who she is now.
or where the spark went.
pieces of her broken heart,
salty tears.
anxiety filled panic
fill its space.
a crave to be herself.
a heavy sigh.
tears roll down her face.
words spoken,
weight lifted.
she will find that spark.
one day
she will find it.

sad metaphor

a toy
broken,
in despair.
lost.
a sad metaphor
for a sad truth.
a girl,
thrown away,
reeled back in,
played with.
a toy.
alone in a dark corner.
dusty.
imperfect.
broken.

the beer goggles were on

This poem was written by @AthenaDDixon. She had mentioned she wanted to join in on this poetry project of mine and I'm excited to have her! The line I gave her was "the beer goggles were on"
Enjoy!

These small things remembered:
   the rending of thin metal,
    a carbonated hiss,
    hollow clatter of fingers
    against glass,
    and how the small rivers
    escape the corner of lips and
    slide into the darkness of his
    chest. Adam’s apple bulged mid-
   guzzle, the beer goggles
    were on.
We were:
    the cramped corner pinball love-
    making machines. The high pitched
    jingle of pocket coins and record
    scores. A rumbled rhythm of two
    feet banging the floor, the wall,
    each other in time to a six pack.

perhaps bad choices were good.

It's back! My poetry project! The way it works is I can send you a line for you to put into a poem, or you can send me a line, so I can write a poem with it, and I will post it on my blog, giving props to who wrote it! Fun!

This line was given to me from @daharadreams. Simply put, I love her. I was stoked she gave me a line to write with!
Here it goes!

Years of not knowing if she'll make it,
of tiredness,
and emotions she didn't know she had.
She started out as weak
and life has made her strong.
Miniature versions of herself
keep her going.
Keep her learning.
Keep her standing.
Give her something to wake up for.
Perhaps bad choices were good.
Transformed a naive teenager
into a strong woman.
She now knows she'll make it,
regardless of tiredness,
and the emotions she didn't know she had.



If you wanna join in on the poetry fun and wanna either write a poem with a line from me, or send me a line to write a poem with, drop me a tweet!
Happy poetry writing!

xo,
Lizzy

Rejuvenated

An overwhelmed mom
Crawls into bed with her babe,
rejuvenated.

The Gun

The gun is pressed to your head
and your drink is empty.
Tears are flowing
down your face
while anxiety is flowing
through your veins.
Imagining the click of the shaft
gives you an excitement
you have never felt.
Do you press the trigger?

Beautiful Release.

The longing to hit the
highway
and drive to the sun
is intense.
Living on a caffeinated rage.
You need a release.
Nicottine stained fingers are a reminder
so you give in to
the temptation.
The burning crackles
while you suck hard,
and exhale the delicious mist.
You feel the mind numbing tension
pull out of your veins.
Life no longer seems irritating.
Beautiful Release.

at times like this

what is there to say
at times like this.
at times of despair,
and fear.
at times of sickness
and intensity.
it's so easy to be hopeless
in the middle of all the despair
and fear
and sickness
and intensity

but you are wearing your brave face.

the way it is

the way it is can
cause you to freak the fuck out.
life is exhausting

morning

skin to skin
legs entangled
hand in hand
relaxed
eyes closed
breathing each other in
alarm goes off
damnit.
morning.

Detailed Inspiration

Watch
Absorb
Detail
Inspired
Imagine
Create
Sketch
Measure
Layout
Cut
Mark
Notches
Darts
Stitch
Seams
Edges
Finish
Admire
Created

A bad day in MommyLand.

The end of the day and
the lights are all off
The fan is on, and its breeze
is relaxing.
As relaxing as this moment can be.
Scratch marks in her shoulder are
a reminder
of the defeat she feels.
Always fighting,
never listening.
Her children are winning.
What happened to her cute babies?
Rolly and drooly and perfect?
Snuggly and soft and warm.
She sits on her bed and sighs
Overwhelmed
Scared
Alone
Not knowing what to do, or
how to win
this battle.

victory

he thinks he's right but
he isn't, can't admit it
being wrong is hard.

the way it is

the way it is
is hard
sometimes easy
happy
sometimes sad
full of life
sometimes tired
sober
sometimes drunk
always in love with you

cold

Cold.

Unfeeling.

hard to be surrounded with

visions of sun touching my face

warmth

but instead, 

I'm shivering.

the aftermath of your coldness

October

Guest writer!!! This one comes from my twitter buddy @jgquinton. 

It was in early October

I remember a hint of cold breaching my jacket

Just enough to provoke a shiver. 

The doctor said 6 months...

I think 6 weeks would be optimistic. 

All the things that we built

All the things that will be lost

All for each other

All lost with me.

I stepped over the rail and kicked my shoes to the river below

The icy metal stinging my feet.

I always thought I would believe in God in the end.

He didn't come, I still didn't ask. 

The wind picked up.

I didn't notice. 

A soft voice in my ear, just a whisper.

"jump"

It took all my will to step away. 

Crawl back over the rail.

I thought of you, and me, and life.

and for a split second I thought of the approaching headlights...

the metal crushing my body wasn't a thought at all.

People would never know the real reason 

...why my shoes float down the river.