Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 10:18 AM 0 comments
Sun Lit Path
Beautiful sunshine fills me, spilling over into the world around. Friends and strangers alike notice the smile, the glint in my eye, the confident stride, as I walk along the sun lit path.
MRW
07/18/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 10:36 AM 0 comments
I'm not sure who I am. I know things about myself, but is that who I am? I LOVE to sing and draw and work on my quilts. I love to be outside, in the summer, with a breeze blowing. I love nature, flowers, and the worlds amazing creatures that surround us. I hate people that lie, and cheat, and steel. I hate people who are fake and always trying to make other people think they are something that they are not. I don't believe that money can buy happiness. Sure, it would make some things in life easier, but it can't make you happy. I hate people that litter (my pet peeve). I love to write my poems, which is fairly new for me, but they always seem so dark, and I'm not sure what's up with that. I love going to the park, and the zoo, and playing in the dirt with my kids. Ethan always brings me frogs and lizards and I think it's awesome. But is all that me? I don't know?
I believe my dragons are my protectors and I love my fantasy books. I love watching mushy love story movies, and action flicks when women are kicking some serious ass, I wish I could be like that. I believe a woman can do anything that a man can do, if she wants to. We are not the weaker sex. I hate sexism. I hate cooking and I hate dishes. I can't spell today or any day, it's definitely not one of my best qualities. I'm not good in math at all, and history used to be my favorite subject, but for some reason, I can't remember a damn thing about it now. I would love to study ancient Egypt and other types or religion. I'm not religious, but I would like to know about them. I want to learn how to paint, and I think I would make an awesome CSI. I know that's funny, but really, I think I would be good at that. I love taking pictures of my boys and all things. I see beautiful things that most people just walk by without noticing. I love Dragon Fly's and my favorite flower is the Orchid. It's an amazingly beautiful flower. I love the ocean and all of its wonderful, wonders. I should truly be living somewhere close a beach. I love to dance, and I don't care if I have to dance by myself. I very organized and I'm great at putting a lot of stuff into a small amount of space. I love to be hugged and held close. I despise people who try to interfere in other peoples' lives.
Stop already with the gossip and all the childish stuff you did when you were kids. I have never been part of the (in) crowd, because I didn't feel it necessary to sit around and talk about everyone else. I believe the country has gone to hell and no one is doing a damn thing about it. Slowly but surely they are taking away all of our God given rights as humans. Before the world ends, we will live in a communist state of being and have to ask permission to piss. And stop throwing trash everywhere. My sons deserve to have a beautiful planet to live on, that isn't covered in shit. What did the next generation ever do to deserve that? I know that everything in life changes over time, but the Native Americans had the right idea about how to live in piece with nature and not destroy everything they touched. The people of today are basically useless, consumer driven, money hungry, selfish assholes.
And just for a little clarification, this blog post in not directed to anyone specific. It's just a little bit about me and my daily rant about the shit we all have to deal with on a regular basis. If you agree with me, that's great. If you don't, that's great. Keep it to yourself.
Ok, I'm done for today.
MRW
07/10/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 10:36 AM 0 comments
Dragons
Beautiful bodies painted in a myriad of vibrant colors. A plethora of art walking the crowded streets, eyes staring endlessly. My quintessence covered from head to toe in a rainbow of different hues. Dragons, I carry with me, my protectors in this life and the next. See me through life’s trials and society unforgiving. Unbending, unyielding are many people’s attitudes toward the children of today. I will not sulk or hide in the darkness, but carry my painted soul forward for the world to view. Close and turn if you do not like what you see.
MRW
06/20/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 3:33 PM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:54 AM 0 comments
Stay With Me
Snow covered Evergreens haunt my dreams, tinged red with the blood seeping slowly from you. Death awaits us all. You are leaving now, before your time. I hold you in my arms, the warmth of you flowing between my fingers. Last words whispered, I’m sorry, I love you... then you were gone. The bell rings, my Angel appears, faces seen before to carry me home. Loneliness never known fills all parts of me. I see you again, my Angel sent to save me, but why do you leave? Stay with me, don’t go, life without you isn’t worth living. You whisper again, I’m sorry, I love you, and I’ll always be with you.
MRW 03/04/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:53 AM 1 comments
Strangers
We fall asleep together, we wake up together, use each others’ tooth brushes, and eat from the same plate, yet we feel like strangers. I know your laugh, the glint in your eye, the peach fuzz coming in, tall and lanky, handsome and funny, but who are you? Gangster movies and rap music, good food and money, the daily pleasures that make up you. Hidden far away, stashed behind the clouds, the hopes, dreams, desires, longing, and love unseen. A Son, a Father, a Friend, a Lover – all this and still a mystery to me.
MRW 03/03/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 10:31 AM 0 comments
Friends I Can Count On
I can count on one hand, the friends I can count on. Days drift by, fading into years. Light dims, friends move on, this I understand. We blame careers, kids, husbands, boyfriends, and the bustle of the day to day craze. I’m having a hard time remembering simple days. Worries of dinner, laundry, further education, and finances were far from the mind. Having fun was the only goal for the day.
There has to be an in-between. It has to be possible to have friends, family, and a job. I just can’t seem to find the compromise. After a day at work, picking up the kids, making dinner, doing the dishes, and giving baths, I don’t want to do anything else. And of course, Saturdays and Sundays are reserved for all the things that didn’t get done during the week. Who the hell has time for friends, I can barley find time for other family members.
I can’t find a balance between responsibilities and fun. I can’t even remember the last time that I went to visit a friend and more so than that, the last time a friend came to visit me. It absolutely amazes me, how a 45 minute drive affects our lives, when it comes to time and spending it with friends. 45 minutes, that’s nothing in the grand scheme of life, but when you have a hundred things to do, no one wants to spend 45 there and 45 minutes back.
Why is it so difficult for me to let loose and have a little fun? Anyone who knows me, knows that I have had this problem for probably the last ten years of my life. Actually when I think about it, even as a child, I was off to the side, not in the crowd. I wish that I could be the extravert, that everyone has a blast with. I don’t do well in groups of people or crowed rooms. People are always talking about other people (gossip), politics, religion, or war… Those subjects are not fun to talk about, they are usually pretty depressing.
I miss my friends, but since I’ve moved, I wonder if any of them were truly my friends to begin with. No one ever calls, no one ever comes to visit, no one ever invites me to come visit them. What happened, did I do something to offend all my friends. It can’t be just because I live 45 minutes away, it’s not that damn far.
MRW 02/12/2008
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:01 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 8:56 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 10:23 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:14 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:09 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 11:51 AM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 3:52 PM 0 comments
Written by Melissa Woodson-Poe at 3:50 PM 0 comments
I am the soft breeze blowing on a Spring day, sunshine seen through the clouds, a rainbow of color on a sprinkled day. I am quiet and reserved, wild rarely seen. My eyes and smile seen on my boys. Modest me, simple inconspicuous Melissa, unnoticed by most. Beautiful Native, tattooed Hippy, hidden away, graceful and fancy saved for a special day. A Dragon Fly wafting along, predator, water searcher, and day lover. I am Athena, goddess of art and war. Heed my warnings, listen closely, I only speak when needed. Passionate, emotional, fiery, and fierce, girlfriend and mother. The many pieces of me.
MRW
03/03/2008
The Tattoo is the mark of the Soul. It can act as a window through which we can see inside, or it can be a shield to protect us from those you cannot see past the surface!!
--Unknown
Out beyond the ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.
- Rumi
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity . . . and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.
William Blake
Life appears to me, too short to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs.
--Charlotte Bronte
Love is the whole story of a woman's life; it is but an episode in a man's.
-Germaine de Stael
We must find our duties in what comes to us, not in what might have been.
-George Eliot
The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account, that of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect. The expression of the face balks account, but the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face, it is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists, it is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him, the strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth, to see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more, you linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
Walt Whitman
And in Life's noisiest hour, there whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee, the heart's self-solace and soliloquy. You mold my hopes, you fashion me within; and to the leading love-throb in the heart through' all my being, through' my pulse's beat; you lie in all my many thoughts, like light, like the fair light of Dawn, or summer eve on rippling stream, or cloud-reflecting lake and looking to the Heaven, that bends above you, how oft! I bless the lot that made me love you.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth; then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear; though as for that, the passing there had worn them really about the same, and both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
I dwelt alone in a world of man, and my soul was a stagnant tide, till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride—till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less—less bright the stars of the night than the eyes of the radiant girl! That the vapor can make with the moon-tints of purple and pearl, can vie with the modest Eulalie’s most
un-regarded curl—can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie’s most humble and careless curl.
Now Doubt—now pain come never again, for her soul gives me sigh for sigh, and all day long shines, bright and strong, a star within the sky, while ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye—while ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
Edgar Allan Poe
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments; love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand’ ring bark, whose worth's unknown,
although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
William Shakespeare
