Archive for September, 2008

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Gilded Cage A Mind At Ease

September 20, 2008

A clear mind and a level head leave little room for solace
In the mind of an artist whose brush has not touched canvas,
The smooth caress of a Love no one can understand,
In over a fortnight.
Cleaver pearls of thought are not bred from good wishes
And strings of dreams are not purged from euphoric peace.
My mind’s eye craves havoc
A thirst in years past quenched so illitiously
From my mere being.
Are we to believe that Serenity is our own making, undoing, and bore?
Encaged by a mind at ease-
My Heart takes flight where my imagination dares not dream of….

Tabitha Castillo

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Birthdays Are For Mothers

September 10, 2008

Another year is ending
And for every year that I grow
I realize your presence
Is missed more then you know.

 

Birthdays are for mothers
For every scream and silent tear
For every step and every lesson
For every meeting of every year

 

Among the cake and candles
Between the cards and gifts array
Through new years and through Christmas
I miss you the most on this day.

 

Because Birthdays are for mothers
For every button they had to sew
For every song and every story
For the Love and strength they show.

 

For every day that comes to greet me
And every time I take a chance.
For every time I reach the ending
Of every sweet slow dance.

 

For every time I skinned my knee
For every school box lunch you made.
For every time I had a dream
And every time we played.

 

Though you were not perfect
And at the time I didn’t understand
You did the best with what you were given
And Loved me the best way a mother can.

 

Birthdays are for mothers
For every second that they’re here.
For the moments that God gives us
And for the Birthdays of every year.

 

Tabitha Castillo

 

 

 

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Whimsical Writer’s Block

September 8, 2008

I think I’m in like with liking you.
So much so that even my world of rhyme,
Though I always believed it to be limitless,
Falls short of your silent perfection.
The metal in me is magnetized,
Drawn to your every detail.
I don’t want to blow this.
Your words are too precious to my barely conscience mind.
Moving might shift you past me
And standing still might bore you away.
I am too scared to believe that you are real
And yet the fear of causing you pain is real enough.
Whisper to my heart and clutch my trust tight
You will be my undoing or my foundation stone to grandeur.

Tabitha Castillo

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Where I Lay My Head

September 8, 2008

Where I Lay My Head
Is somewhere between my feelings for you
And the whispered nothings I wish I could speak.
It’s easy there in a sea of sleepless dreams
To imagine your heart beat on my cheek again.
You lips to my forehead.
A cool pillow press.
Your arms a blanket’s embrace.
Fingers and legs entangled in sheets thrown askew.
Where I lay my head is always close to you.
Thinking dreams, dreaming things to do-
For there is always more.
Behind close doors palm to palm
And cheek to chest is where I lay my hopes.
Always behind closed doors.
To each night a new dream,
An impassioned release,
And cradled mind.
For where I lay my head is always close to you.

Tabitha Castillo

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Swallowing Glass and Decorative Ribbons

September 8, 2008

 

When you left me broken and confused
I swallowed glass.
Your words now travel through my body
Slicing away at me with every sentence.
Even now as I lay here wanting to cry
For the simple reason of not knowing why
Splinters trace the gaps behind my eye balls
Forbidding me to.
Now with every message I get
I am faced with the realization
It’s not you.
You blew the glass yourself
With the last words you uttered.
Repeating them
To hear them
Resound in my ear
Will only call them to the surface
And I will be the long ribbon
That once decorated
The Heart I gave you….

Tabitha Castillo

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Shadow Of Doubt: Broken Promises

September 8, 2008

I think that there is a point in every person’s Life where yo come to he realization that ‘pinky promises’ can be broken and often are. You come to a hard realization that the world isn’t black and white and despite you trying to cling to your childhood idealism, the world isn’t fair. For some this comes early….

You’re the beacon of Truth to my midnight Life.
Lighthouse to my ocean of doubt.
And though it’s not fair,
I fear that the last shred of what I now believe to be a naive Hope
For the goodness in mankind,
Lies in your promise
Of a different tomorrow.
Eggs in a basket is a weak metaphor
For the world you’ve taken responsibility for.
And if nothing else
You worded my demise beautifully.
Childhood beliefs die
In a swift crash
Echoed in the silent trembles
Rumbling through my Morals.
A new Life of well engraved cynicism.
Branded doubt.
Shadowed Happily-Ever-After.
I’m grabbing at the last traces of you.
Gapping adulthood.
Teach me to be….

Tabitha Castillo

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Pieces of a Dream

September 8, 2008

A morning part. A sheer adieu. I am torn from you again.
With tingling feeling once adorned severed by evening break.

Every time I wake from you and am blessed to see your face
A little piece of a dream of you with me I take.

Can this be a medicine for a mental health decline?
To sugar coat each waking dream? How sweet your voice can feel.

To host the realization that each sleeping wish I made-
I get back a piece at a time. Your feelings for me are real.

Tabitha Castillo