I Missed A Flower

I missed a flower.

Not just any but the most

amazing and beautiful

Prettiest penny,

And by a penny I mean to say she’s tiny and finding her in your arms is considered lucky.

I like to think that you resemble a beautiful red rose,

That is to say I clutch you to my chest regardless of the thorns.

You don’t want to hurt me but your spikes keep my wound closed.

A nice dull ache as you’re rooted in ground, I prefer to endure this love loss I’ve found,

Rather than throw the pain away

I’ll keep it in my heart

And love for another day.

.

Than risk bleeding to death without you. Without new. I find flowers enhance their beauty as they slowly fade away.

Please don’t fade on me

But if you do, than that’s okay.

You’ve been rooted before and rooted you’ll stay, I know you’ll bloom again one day.

Even if it’s not for me, but that’s okay. As long as they love you.

.

Here’s once again a different emotion/flavour of poem, I’ll get back to posting more article type posts soon but for now people have been enjoying the poems so they shall continue to pop up!

Peace, love, and tranquil vibes,

C.C.

~A Cigarette Daydream~

Everyone disappears don’t they?

Especially the ones who say they won’t.

You were a cigarette daydream

Warm, fading, and small.

I’m not sure when I became addicted.

But running after you was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

That is to say I had to watch you drift away.

Calling after with smoke filled lungs.

Wishing you would stay.

.

Or maybe I was the smoke.

The daydream.

For I’m losing sense of what is real.

Drifting through life.

Trying to feel.

Something..

One thing?

Anything?

.

Isn’t it beautiful how the wind dances?

In the trees and their leaves, the way it shifts and prances?

I envy the wind.

It’s here until it just..isn’t.

No one cries for the wind.

.

It’s so.

So cold.

I can’t feel my body.

Except for the smoke.

Within my lungs.

Oh, how it used to flow from our tongues.

Those smoke like promises.

To last a thousand suns.

I guess.

They couldn’t even stand.

A single.

Night.

.

I’ve lost myself.

And I.

I can’t see you.

Not anymore.

You’re gone too.

Or maybe here.

But just looked on through.

.

I exist right?

I exist.

I exist.

I exist.

I-I..

.

.

.

So I noticed a lot of people enjoyed The Volcano, this poem was obviously a bit of a different breed from it in terms of both writing style and emotion but I wrote this a year or two before The Volcano when I was in a fairly bad place of my life. Luckily with meditation among other methods I’ve managed to crawl out of that headspace to become the wonderful peace loving, tranquil, hippie soul that I am today. I think in the end I just decided, I don’t care about what career I follow in my life. I didn’t care about following a career. I wanted to find and chase happiness which led me to searching out every possible avenue I could do that from, so I did.

I’m still searching. But the more I travel this world, the more people I meet and places I go? They generate seeds of happiness in my soul. Soon once they’ve sprouted i’ll be able to carry them with me everywhere! Can you picture it? Won’t that just be bliss! Keep chasing your happiness and keep chasing your dreams! You’ll get there, I believe in you. ^-^

Peace, love, and tranquil vibes people,

C.C.

The Volcano

You tell me

Grown men don’t cry.

As a man I am not allowed to cry

As a man I am supposed to rage and shoot fire from my fingertips

And I do not want to relate to that.

I do not want to be the volcano

Smouldering red hot rage

Boiling up

And raining down from the heavens.

I am not the volcano.

And yet I can feel white

hot Molten rage

Flow through my veins

When I think of the way

You told me

Grown men don’t cry.

As if you’d prefer me to build it all up. Whole body shaking

Until cracks breach my skin

And with an almighty roar I fracture

warping everything around me.

Raining down death and destruction indiscriminately

Cause at least that way I’m not the only one who’s hurt.

You’d prefer the volcanic ashes of our love to fall down like feathers

Staining people’s skin with the stories of us. Burning the shadows of ourselves into all of the places we once lived and loved each other.

So that years later once everything has cooled and my heart has hardened up like magma

Others can come and admire the ghosts of our love.

I wonder, can they feel the fear of our final moments?

Moments before I proved you right.

That I was a volcano.

But you, you were the one that set me off. And now I don’t cry

Not because grown men don’t cry

But because the magma in my veins

Pumping through my heart

Has grown cold and hard in your absence.

I both fear and await the day my heart begins to heat back up.

C.C.

(I did mention I’d occasionally post my poetry)

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me! I’ve been wanting to write for ages but I could never seem to get the ball rolling, day after day i’d just waste my time thinking about it or other ventures and then getting distracted and eventually getting a whole lot of nothing done. However now that I’ve managed to plow through my mental hangups it’s finally time to begin this exciting adventure! There may just be short posts at first but I look forward to seeing how this goes, it’s a little daunting but i’m sure it’ll get easier with time. Especially the longer I consistently release content.

I’m planning to post stuff about poetry, travelling, odd perspectives, maybe some hippie vibes; all good stuff. Anyways please enjoy your time here!  Peace, love, and positivity to you all!

C.C.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step ~ Lao Tzu

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