Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Inspirational Poems, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Thoughtful Poems, Woman's Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #76: Loving the Person I Want to Become

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

 

portraits-series

Lately,
I have found
Peace within myself
I have learned to listen
To the gentle hum
That rises within my chest
And the words that play
Delicately on mind
I have tried to find myself
Only to lose myself
In the beauty that I see
Not perfect, no –
But striving toward perfection
Never to reach it,
But grasping out,
Craving its delicate curves
And its gentle tongue.
I am not always, in love
With the person I have been
But I have learned to love
The person I want to become.

© Sumyanna 2017

Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Inspirational Poems, Love Poems, Narrative Poetry, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Thoughtful Poems, Woman's Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #75: Reflections

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

 

portraits-series

She stared sadly into the mirror
Counting the lines across her face
Trying to rub them free
She looked into her own eyes
And wished their color a deeper blue
Her lips more full
Her skin exuding a more youthful glow.
He watched her there,
Sitting in front of the mirror
He noticed her
And she captured his attention
But she just stared into her own reflection
And got lost in her thoughts of imperfection.
In her face, he saw generous beauty
He remembered
The beauty she carried
When he first met her
But he was also keenly aware
That her beauty grew.
In her eyes, he has witnessed oceans
He has traced the sight of clouds
In her view.
He has seen her cry, full hearted
Lamenting the loss of a stranger
He has seen her blue-eyed smile
Upon holding his first child
He has seen her love for him
Blossom, reflecting in her stare
He has known no finer lips than hers
To have brushed his unshaven face
To have kissed the head of the child he calls his own
And when she speaks – he notices
The trace of a smile
And sometimes, the nervous biting of her lips
When she is uncertain and afraid.
There is beauty there – and he holds hope in his heart
That he will be the only one to ever notice.
Yes, she has changed over the years
And the growth he sees in her own face,
He sees in his own,
But he finds her all the more beautiful
For he has loved her ever since the moment
He first witnessed her smile
And had he any choice,
He would have loved her long before.

© Sumyanna 2017

Posted in Daily Post Prompt, Free Verse Poetry, Inspirational Poems, Love Poems, Narrative Poetry, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Word Prompt

Dancing in the Rain (Portrait Poetry Series #31)

Today, the Daily Post Prompt is messy. I could not help but remember this poem I posted quite some time ago.  It holds a special place in my heart – autobiographical, then not.

 

Rain

 

We are dancing in the rain

It matters not, that we’ll get wet –

life is meant to be messy

The rain’s fresh scent

Begs for entertainment.

The rain pours

And puddles lay at our feet

While others curse the rain

We dance and smile

Puddle slapping

We are young and free

While others carry excessive baggage

Their boots slap angrily

Grumbling snores through life

They can’t enjoy the rain

Their heart’s just not in it

Not today, nor tomorrow

They can never feel free.

My hair lays wet

Across my face

Your clothes are soaked

And it does not matter,

For when in love

You just want

To enjoy the moment

Embrace everything –

Including the rain.

 

© Sumyanna 2016

 

Written for The Daily Post Prompt: messy

Beautiful image, courtesy of Pixabay.com

Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Narrative Poetry, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Sad Poems, Thoughtful Poems, Uncategorized, Woman's Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #74: Entombed

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

portraits-series
She sits in the cold
Of her attic lodgings
Thick sweater pulled close
She sits in the middle of the room
Where a bit of sunlight
Streams in from the window
Hoping it shall warm her
It doesn’t.
She holds
A small bowl of soup
Deftly on her lap
Curls her fingers
Beneath its base
And listens to the sounds
Of ringing laughter below.
It is supper time now,
And the family
Enjoys their meals together
The children smile
And their parents tease.
Laughter rings out
In this happy home
And each ringing sound
Of laughter
Denounces
Her lonely thoughts
Shames her,
For her solitary meal
In her cold, empty room
But surely, life would know –
All this was not by choice.
She dreams of dinner time
In a far off cottage,
Food on the stove,
A fire keeping her warm,
And a husband and children
Smiling around the table
But this dream too,
Fails to keep her warm.
It is unfortunate, she thinks
That nothing separates herself
From those below,
Save being born
At the wrong time
And the wrong place
And her life –
Is just a sad consequence
Of these ill-fated steps.
She finds it unfair,
That hard work shall never
Bring her closer to her dreams.
All has gone quiet –
They must have finished eating
She places
Her barely eaten meal
Aside
And rushes downstairs
Leaving her darkened tomb behind
To clean the messes of the living.

© Sumyanna 2017

Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Narrative Poetry, Nature Poems, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Thoughtful Poems, Woman's Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #73: Warmed By The Joy They Held in Their Hearts

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

 

portraits-series

 

They walked

Down the streets

Clamoring for silence,

It was a long journey home –

Across the city to their apartment house

But arm in arm, they walked

Reveling in the view.

Awe drew across their faces

As snow fell gently

And danced beneath

The flickering streetlights.

Everything, it seemed

Was wrapped in silence.

It was not –

That it was silent,

For cars blared in the distance

Taxis wailed on past

And they could hear

The hurried footsteps

Of shivering passengers

Rushing toward the underground subway.

Everyone sought solace from the cold,

But their shadows danced there

Kicking at snowfall

Throwing snowballs

And sticking out their tongues

To capture falling snow.

It is as if their disregarded youth

Had finally found them.

Yes, two sisters

Danced beneath

The falling snow

Their laughter ringing out

Until they reached

Their journey’s end,

Where matured faces

Found them soon again

And their seriousness returned.

The older sister struggled

And the younger one’s

Aged hands

Held tightly about her waist

As they mounted the stairs,

Calculating each step.

But beneath the doorway,

They paused – looking back

into the shadowy streets.

Later,

As they sipped tea,

They would swear they saw

A younger version

Of themselves

Playing beneath the streetlights

On a winter’s evening

Battling the cold,

Beneath layers of clothing

But warmed by the joy

They held in their hearts.

 

© Sumyanna 2017

 

Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Narrative Poetry, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry, Sad Poems, Thoughtful Poems, Woman's Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #71: Resigned to Her Fate

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

 

portraits-series
Momentarily, she stood still
Carrying the silver serving tray
It hung near her waist
Perhaps, to hide the truth
For she held shame in her heart
And shame
Welled within her chest
Begging release –
But there was no such thing,
As release
For she had learned
To wear her shame well.
The servant girl’s head hung low
And she wondered
If there would ever be justice
Or if her heart
Would ever know peace
But thoughts
Were luxuries
She was not allowed.
Tears welled in her eyes
And as she took her leave
From clearing master’s table
Her eyes glanced sadly
Towards her growing belly
And wished her mother was near
To hold her
To console her
And yet she knew –
Her mother wore the same shame
By the same man
And her birth
Was the consequence.
And perhaps,
If she had the same strength
As her mother,
She too –
Would swing beneath
The hanging tree
For refusing this burden
But she had finally lost
Every ounce of fight left
Floundering in the reality
She is resigned to this fate
And so shall the child she carries.

© Sumyanna 2016

Posted in Free Verse Poetry, Narrative Poetry, Poetry, Portrait Series Poetry

Portraits Poetry Series #70: The Absence of Relevance

In case you haven’t been here before, I love writing prompts – whether a list of words, one word, or even an image. With these posts, I have written poems specifically about paintings and I hope, with my words, you see the scene just as visibly in your heart and mind as if you had seen the image itself.

portraits-series

 

The young child
Drew her coat closer
To shield against the cold
Fingers numb and aching
She moved slowly
Through the boulevards
To stay warm.
The sky was grey then
And everything
Was covered in white
Dusted on rooftops
And piled on the sidewalks.
It slushed beneath her feet
Barely clad in shoes
Too small for her feet
And she shivered in the cold
But she was used to its chill.
No matter her situation,
She looked at the scene
With promise
Her eyes filled with wonder
Her heart filled with hope
This is true beauty
Her heart whispered
And she listened intently
She heard the children
Playing in the streets
Their voices singing out
In laughter
She heard the dull metal drag
Of shovels
Clearing the sidewalks
It was a story
Unfolding before her eyes
And one, while unknown to her
Filled her dreams –
The thought of belonging
Where you stand
And the promise
Of warmth near the fire
After enjoying the cold
The enjoyment
Of family and friends
The certainty
Of where you lay your head
This was what she hoped for
Not toys –
Not luxury –
But connection.
She held her coat
Close to her throat
In hopes to shield herself
From the cold –
Not from the airy wind
Or the new fallen snow
But the absence of relevance.

© Sumyanna 2016