Don't just live, be a l i v e.
My Poetry&Photography Journal © KAYLA SHEARS 2005 - 2009. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
juki:
2 weeks agoSome of my favorite quotes:
“But it’s not pain. It’s laughing with your friend at a time when you shouldn’t. It’s the sweat in your palms wanting to know someone you see and the pit in your stomach when they actually see you. It’s being touched by hands that aren’t your own. It’s the thrill of an escape that almost wasn’t. It’s the embarrassment you feel, naked for the first time. It’s helping a friend find something they lost. It’s a smile, a joke, a song. It’s what someone does that they like doing. It’s what someone does that they like remembering. It’s the thinking of things you may never do and the doing of things you may never have thought. It’s the road ahead and the road behind. It’s the first step and the last and every one in between, because they all make up the good life”
“Sometimes pain becomes such a huge part of your life that you expect it to always be there, because you can’t remember a time in your life when it wasn’t. But then one day you feel something else, something that feels wrong, only because it’s so unfamiliar. And in that moment you realize you’re happy.”
“I do my thing and you do your thing. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I and if by any chance we find each other, it’s beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped”.
“I swim for brighter days despite the absence of sun”
“It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride,and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world”
Colors Passing Through Us
Purple as tulips in May, mauve
into lush velvet, purple
as the stain blackberries leave
on the lips, on the hands,
the purple of ripe grapes
sunlit and warm as flesh.
Every day I will give you a color,
like a new flower in a bud vase
on your desk. Every day
I will paint you, as women
color each other with henna
on hands and on feet.
Red as henna, as cinnamon,
as coals after the fire is banked,
the cardinal in the feeder,
the roses tumbling on the arbor
their weight bending the wood
the red of the syrup I make from petals.
Orange as the perfumed fruit
hanging their globes on the glossy tree,
orange as pumpkins in the field,
orange as butterflyweed and the monarchs
who come to eat it, orange as my
cat running lithe through the high grass.
Yellow as a goat’s wise and wicked eyes,
yellow as a hill of daffodils,
yellow as dandelions by the highway,
yellow as butter and egg yolks,
yellow as a school bus stopping you,
yellow as a slicker in a downpour.
Here is my bouquet, here is a sing
song of all the things you make
me think of, here is oblique
praise for the height and depth
of you and the width too.
Here is my box of new crayons at your feet.
Green as mint jelly, green
as a frog on a lily pad twanging,
the green of cos lettuce upright
about to bolt into opulent towers,
green as Grand Chartreuse in a clear
glass, green as wine bottles.
Blue as cornflowers, delphiniums,
bachelors’ buttons. Blue as Roquefort,
blue as Saga. Blue as still water.
Blue as the eyes of a Siamese cat.
Blue as shadows on new snow, as a spring
azure sipping from a puddle on the blacktop.
Cobalt as the midnight sky
when day has gone without a trace
and we lie in each other’s arms
eyes shut and fingers open
and all the colors of the world
pass through our bodies like strings of fire.
- by Marge Piercy
________________
“She said, that would prefer a broken neck to another broken heart. And I said, ‘Remember, even the beauty of birth leaves its own scars. And know, that you will find your home, right where you are… We will find our homes right where we are.’”
2 weeks agoTurning glass into sand.
It’s as if she was kissing
glass.
too careful.
too fearful.
don’t shatter.
don’t cut her.
But
The soft sash of the moonlit sky
wrapped around her heart
waiting
waiting
waiting
The chill in the air whistles
only simplifying the whispers
promise
promise
promise
Such an immense desire to go
just ignoring the outcome
wish
wish
wish
Longing to dance outside the shadows
craving for the glass to not crack
love
love
love
So careful she must be
the somber art of falling
knows not of where
one lands
It was as if she was kissing
glass.
-Kayla Shears
The Couple Separated for the Longest Time (60 years)
Sixty years ago, Boris and Anna Kozlov were married for only three days before he had to ship out with his Red Army unit. When he returned, Anna and her family were gone – exiled to Siberia by Stalin’s purges. Then one day, on a chance encounter, they found each other again!
“I thought my eyes were playing games on me,” Anna said. “I saw this familiar looking man approaching me, his eyes gazing at me. My heart jumped. I knew it was him. I was crying with joy.” 80 years-old Boris had returned to visit his parents’ grave. As he stepped out of the car, he looked up to see Anna standing by her old house, where they had lived for the few days after the wedding. “I ran up to her and said: ‘My darling, I’ve been waiting for you for so long. My wife, my life…’”
True love will always find a way. 4 weeks ago
4 weeks agoThe world is so much more beautiful when it’s fake
because it doesn’t have the chance to be ugly. I miss real life moments:
Memorizing phone numbers, walking places, friendships defined by childhood.
Too many of us let these things slip away.
All I want to do is find ways to get back to how things were before.
Back when people knew how to speak and to breathe.
What’s gotten in the way of these simple things?
What has allowed us to become so hollow?
secret things that make my heart ache., Christine Bernardo
1 month agothe silly way i wore your coat. silly because you were still in it.
being flush: my back pressed snuggly to your front, our legs a mess of tangles. warmth. and cradling your arm as it cradled me.
the way you would fall asleep, the best way, with your face in my hair and your arm at my waist.
how your smile felt in the middle of kissing.
and fingers trailing, trailing, everywhere.
i always did hate that part. the hand-holding. the sweat and the cramp. i also hated the letting go. the not being connected. i think you knew this. because you would offer me your pinky to hold instead, like a bridge between the two. space for our hands to breathe. and a way to not let go.
oh, but you did know me so well, didn’t you?
the end, thislooksfamiliar
1 month agowhen the comets explode, and the fires burn blue
and the earth turns to ash, under grey hue,
the wind howls against the burning dead plains
and there is no more violence, there is no more pain.
everything gone, in a flash of bright white
before in creeps the darkness to starve out the nightlove is a word and thought is a crime
description is gone, as well as the time.
all over forever, does it make your head hurt?
right in the back? where you KNEW before birth?
the cause is unknown, the result is quite clear.
the being is gone, and the knowing is near.so the dust gathers up, all in the corner
a lone person watches, a solemn young mourner.
impacts and shaking do not disturb
the serenity and tranquility of this peaceful mood.
keeping watch on the motion and holding it all
inside and inside forever, for after the fall.the scene drifts away, like sand on a beach
and remembrance is shallow, forgetting is sweet
it floats out of the mind and towards the heart
held on to like everything, right from the start
the curtain falls upon the world’s head
the looker looks on, remembering the end
The absence/presence of Fear.
So I’ve been thinking lately, and I’ve come to a conclusion for myself as to what fear is. Fear isn’t real. Now let me explain…
Fear. What do we know about fear? From my experiences, well, it stops us from doing things. Such as taking an opportunity, telling someone how much you love them, letting go of something that might not return, it keeps us from fessing up or telling the truth, it holds us back for standing up and voicing our opinions, from protecting ourselves, keeping us from living the life that we want ourselves to live.
Those are cases in which I have experienced fear. But fear. I’ve been contemplating why fear consumes me sometimes, why fear is even present when I have God shielding me. Well first, I’m human, and that was an obvious fact. But being human was exactly the fact I needed to figure this out. Being human, we cope with things, and going throughout life, we get better at it, for the most part, in dealing with issues, stress, tragedies. The human mind is powerful, and it needs an actual event to happen in order for that coping process, that moving on process to happen. But fear, when we fear things, the things we are fearing about HASN’T HAPPENED. That’s exactly what makes fear such a dictator in our or at least my life. Is because our minds cannot cope or move on from something that hasn’t happened yet. I’ve been trying to reason with fear, because I don’t believe it is something we can ever suffice, even with God, it’s a battle with fear. But the human mind cannot move on from something that hasn’t happened yet, and I think that’s why we have such a hard time in dealing with fear, in trying to forget about it, even trying to get our minds off of what we’re being fearful about.
I’m not sure if what i’ve contemplated actually makes sense, but I’ve decided to write it out. And I guess the key to remember is that fear is pointless, because what your mind is perceiving hasn’t happened, or might not even happen yet or at all for that matter. So why do we fear exactly? Why do we strangle ourselves with the unknown that we as humans cannot cope with? Even knowing this, I know I still will have fears, that gut feeling that churns inside.
How do we suppress fear? Prayer? Doing something you love? Confronting the stituation head on?
Do we live without fear? What is being fearless?
To me, “Fearless” is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. Fearless is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you. Fearless is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before. Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you believe in over and over again, despite of how many times you’ve lost. It’s fearless to have faith that someday things will change. Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them. It’s fearless to finally look out for yourself, to love yourself. I think loving someone despite what people think is fearless. I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is fearless. Letting go is fearless. Then, moving on and being alright…that’s fearless too. No matter what life throws at you, believing that love is possible, is fearless. Fearless is putting the extra effort to pass the class. Being fearless is waking up every morning, having the courage to face the day. Being fearless is making that change, taking that step, and deciding you’re not going to wait anymore. Fearless is being the change you want to see in this world. Fearless is walking with your head towards the sunshine, your best foot forward, and hope that even if it rains, you’ll just dance in it.
Fear drownes us, fear consumes us if we do not go, if we do not take the act of being fearless seriously. Like Job in scripture, or Moses, or Ghandi, or Martin Luther King Jr., etc. They took it upon themselves to go and do something about the fear, even if they were trembling.
I think the key is, after rambling on and typing this out, I think that we cannot beat fear unless we do something about it. Because our minds cannot move on or cope with something that hasn’t happened, so I guess we need to act upon what we’re fearing and deal with it head on with our fists pumping, blood pulsating, adrenaline rushing, and give our minds something to move on from. Take the fear into action. Don’t play the waiting game and expect change to happen overnight if you’re not going to do anything about it. Another question popped into my mind, what if it’s something we can’t do anything about? Well, then I guess the only option is to pray. Or it is what it is kind of situation. Because if you’re fearing or are afraid about something you simply cannot change, it shouldn’t be something you should be fearing about in the first place I suppose, because if it’s going to happen, it’ll happen for a reason, and that alone should give you a reason not to fear. Living without fear is walking the walk, going out of your comfort zone, and showing everyone the difference between living and feeling ALIVE.
-KS
Night on the Island
All night I have slept with younext to the sea, on the island.
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep,
between fire and water.
Perhaps very late
our dreams joined
at the top or at the bottom,
Up above like branches moved by a common wind,
down below like red roots that touch.
Perhaps your dream
drifted from mine
and through the dark sea
was seeking me
as before,
when you did not yet exist,
when without sighting you
I sailed by your side,
and your eyes sought
what now-
bread, wine, love, and anger-
I heap upon you
because you are the cup
that was waiting for the gifts of my life.
I have slept with you
all night long while
the dark earth spins
with the living and the dead,
and on waking suddenly
in the midst of the shadow
my arm encircled your waist.
Neither night nor sleep
could separate us.
I have slept with you
and on waking, your mouth,
come from your dream,
gave me the taste of earth,
of sea water, of seaweed,
of the depths of your life,
and I received your kiss
moistened by the dawn
as if it came to me
from the sea that surrounds us.”
-“NIGHT ON THE ISLAND” by Pablo Neruda 1 month ago
this
life
movingsofast
this
love
boltingtothesky
this
this
this
is an immense desire
to reach beyond be yond
this
is my alibi
this
begins
so i shall move forward.
-KS
