Flowers in December

Nocturnal

She dances under the light of the moon,
where she found the most comfort
cus she was nocturnal, a lover of the night,
while others drift to dream she wakens
knowing this is her time to shine,
softly and quietly she listens to music
writing her words – the ones which can only fall
together under the stars of night,
her blessed light, in the darkness
her mind dances more alive than ever,
but no one understands her habits
her happiness that comes from the night.

Blessed or cursed she wonders sometimes
when others complain of her ways,
why must she be like them,
why does her body tick
on the tocking of the eve of night -
she’s tried to comply with those
who live in the world of light
but to this day she can’t win the fight -
her body only thrives and breathes life
under the soft light of the moon.

Some days she wishes
only because she can’t change who she is
she wishes – she wasn’t made this way,
that her internal ticks on the tocking
of the eve of night would reverse
so as to make those she loves happy
but then she wonders why -
why they can’t they accept her as she is -
the beautiful moon flower you’ll only see
in the soft, gentle shadows of night
no – she can’t help the person she is.

To bed when the sun rises,
she’ll drift to dream, waking only to comply
to the workings of the diurnal people,
those who will never understand
the tick, tick tocking of her nocturnal soul.
What makes their lives so right – so complete -
how can they judge when they have no clue
what its like to live so sweetly as she does,
on the opposite side of the sun,
a nocturnal soul who kisses softly
the breath of the moon, the shadow
of the waking hours of her life,
the moment in time where she feels alive -
where her words can flow so softly, gently
under the shadows of the blissful moon,
her tick, tick tocking of upside down rocking
her nocturnal world where she happily lives her life -
there in the beautiful, beautiful night.

© Kristy Tallman – January 2010 – All rights reserved.

Posted in My Poetry

Chasing Dreams

copyright by Kristy Tallman – January 2010 – All rights reserved.

Posted in Uncategorized

Friend or Foe

friend or foe,
I don’t know,
I don’t know
I don’t know
anymore.

copyright by Kristy Tallman February 2010 – all rights reserved.

Posted in My Poetry

My Parallel Universe

(c) Kristy Tallman – February 2010 – All rights reserved.

Posted in My Poetry

Falls

A blank canvas,
brushes in a glass
alongside dried up paints,
her heart too fallen apart
to show the passion
that once was there,
she stands before them wondering
where she lost herself,
why the ink in her well dried
why the paper’s edges turned
an ancient hue of ages gone by
without words to keep them alive,

a long time dream gone to waste,
a bewilderment of her heart’s passion
frozen somewhere in time,
forgotten because she let herself be,
she’s crawled inside herself for too long -
too long -
now as the tears fall
she wonders if its too late,
too late to find her way back
to the surface of the water
she’s been drowning in.

Arms gently wrap around her
as she stands before
her lost keepsakes
that used to make her who she was,
finally she

falls,

falls,

falls

into the arms turning her into his
she cries, cries cries
with each tear letting go of times lost,
emotions spent, feelings of hurt and pain
finally taken away for a moment
as she holds onto a piece of hope
that drifts by on her sea of lost dreams,

she falls,

falls,

falls,

from the hell she went through
when she felt him lifting her
from the inside out.

The brushes dance
upon a canvas again,
dried paints are quenched
like the desert
when it finally finds the rain,
her ink well spills over
from the tears that filled it again
and the words

fall,

fall,

fall

upon the pages again,
her thoughts evoked
by her need to be needed,
her thoughts woven
into a whirl of poetry
almost forgotten,
almost lost forever
until those arms held her close
making her feel loved again,
alive again,
yes she

falls,

falls,

falls,

back to where her heart
had dreamed of falling,
back to a place she never thought
she’d be again, there with him,
the courage, hope and love
she needed for so long
comes shining through
like a warm winter’s sun,
though she still
has a long way back
she knows so long as
she feels those arms holding her,
uplifting her, she will come back
to herself again,
living in her dreams
so long ago forgotten,
afraid to breathe,
afraid to feel,
her blank canvas
the start of a painting come to life,
the words she writes again,
the world newborn to her heart,
she finds her words to write
as she

falls,

falls,

falls,

into a place
that brings her back to life again,

she

falls,

falls,

falls

into him knowing
he’ll catch her breath,
catch her tears,
catch her heart as it

falls,

falls,

falls.

into him…
into love…
into life again…

copyright by Kristy Tallman, January 2010 All rights reserved.

Posted in My Poetry

Saving our Grace

They consume themselves
with lies, envy and soulless babble
because they are false lovers,
false believers
trying all things to destroy our love,
our blessings, our saving grace by God.
Who will you be;
which voice will be the one you listen to;
which path will you take,
truth, courage and patience
or anger, self-pity while allowing
the snake to lash forth from your mouths
with grave intent of only hurting others
because you yourself hurt;
because you yourself are too scared
to face others happiness with a still heart -
let them fall pray to Evil I say
because it is in God I found my saving grace;
I learned patience and my heart beats
always with good intent and love.
Let no man put asunder
that which was graced by God
lest he so desire to
forever walk the wrong path,
hear the wrong voice,
never finding his own saving grace.

by Kristy Tallman, January 2010 all rights reserved.

Posted in My Poetry