Ride

I sometimes wish my life was a rollercoaster
Extreme, fast and a little dangerous
Every day's ride with my arms in the air
Screaming

Other times I wish my life was bumper cars
Silly collisions with no real damage
Stunts I couldn't pull on the real road
Laughing

Funny but I never wish for what my life is
Which is the ferris wheel
Round and round with one simple high point
That ends before you know it
Sighing

1000

If my words were a photograph
They'd be black and white
Out of focus

The composition would confuse
Why did she frame it that way, they'd wonder
Why doesn't she show the subject's eyes?

The images outside the shot
Are even more telling than those that are in it

Shine

The sun laughs at me on winter days
It has a secret
But it won't tell me what it is
When I ask it to tell me what's so funny
It tells me to be patient

One day I'll know what's so funny
And I won't think everyone, including the sun, is laughing at me
But instead at a great cosmic joke
Larger than me
Greater than me
Including me
But not about me

So now when I look up at the sun and I see it smiling
And at times winking
I know that one day I will learn its secret
And then and only then will I truly know how to laugh

Hello!

Hi, my name is Bethany, and this is my poetry blog. I guess I should've introduced myself first before posting a couple of my poems!

I am using this blog as a kind of teacher to help me with my free verse, so that's why I call it "freeversity". I hope that through writing here on a regular basis, I can develop my poetry skills. I hope you join me on my journey.

Truth

The cold. The bleakness of my heart, my soul. The sun, staring down at me, feigning warmth. But I know its truth: It too is cold.

The clouds, pre­tend­ing they are soft.

The moon, pre­tend­ing to be all-­know­ing.

The only truth is in the glance of a fair-haired child, lost in the barefoot wonder of cotton candy.

Alive

Are we all not snowmen? Snowwomen? Snowchildren?
Do we not all melt, over time?
Are we not built up of a hope to sustain the chill of the winter air,
only to blend back into the warming earth?
The chill of the winter air keeps me alive,
but what of the warmth of the summer breeze?
Can I survive, flourish, live and love in both?
One and one, each its own way?
If I love the winter, am I betraying the summer?