art, introspection, pain, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality

Naive Wishes

Paint me with naive wishes 

They are the only ones worth having 

Haven’t learned fear 

Haven’t known failure 

Still have the time to prove 

Paint me with with naive hope 

That has every reason to go on forever 

Doesn’t need to be realistic

Doesn’t feel pressured to be responsible 

Young enough to know no limits

Paint me with naive love 

That blooms in every young soul 




In the face of every sad love song

introspection, nature, pain, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality

Whimsy Heart

Plead with me 

One more is meant to be with me 

But only if he’ll see in me 

What I may see in him 

There’s too much here to give 

And I will give it all away 

Far too fast 

And they will leave with me 

Swimming in their past 

See I can’t hold it back 

Like how they all tell me to 

For all my whimsy heart is full of dance 

And life to give for you

art, introspection, pain, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized


I’ve wasted all my love on you
Spent all my hope with you
Gathered all my dreams
And saw them in a scene
With you
Fashioned girlish wishes on you
Passioned whirlwind nights with you
Faith to fuel my drive for you
Cannot seem to get a clue
With him

art, introspection, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized, Watercolor

The Observation Deck

My open mind
Is not a place to write on
You can find
Another ear to hum on
I do not marry
To one line of thinking
Yet you see me
With some kind of lacking
I am a watcher
Not made as a preacher
The only lecture
Is through life as a teacher
Though I listen
And am so eager to hear
I feed discussion
Not forcing answers from fear
My open mind
Is not a place to write on
I am no kind
To come for a sermon
I only ask
Because I want to explore
If your mind could open
I could ask you for more

art, introspection, philosophy, spirituality, Uncategorized


I am
And then I immediately am not
I am everything I can be
I am, a possibility

art, introspection, nature, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized

Summer Swell

Warm jasmine in the breeze
Rushes up on me
Forty shades of green
In the shade tree
Bright and tropic petunias
My glass sweating in the sun
The ice twirls and mirrors
Swift summer heat
Turns each leaf
It spins right up to me
And twists my hair
The sky peaking through
In orange glow
Tilts my eyes away
Where it glitters on the porch
Kaleidoscope dancing
Envelopes my wide world

Art Credit: Middle Way Art Studio

art, introspection, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized, Watercolor

“The Process” Live Prose

How am I supposed to feel? Where should I be at this age? What can bring me fulfillment? Achievement gives me fulfillment. Respect. . . and being a part of a community. I find making other people happy fulfilling. I like being appreciated. I like feeling valuable to others. I want to be special. I like to express my “special” ness. How? How can I let people know what’s going on in here?

I have been given inspiration by others. Musicians make me feel things. My heart beats when I feel it. My senses light up a little and I get high. I feel a tiny piece of how alive they must feel when they hear their own voice and expression cutting out into the world. I want to make my cut. I want to cut open my own hard shell and let myself out. I feel so dormant and faded.

What would I ever do if I lost that part of myself? If I have ever dreaded something, I dread forgetting how to feel.

I feel angry.
I feel tingling on my skin.
I want to punch something.
But I also want to lay down and dream.
I want people to see who I am
. . . but that doesn’t make sense because I’m so private.

I want to create meaning.

Creativity and expression give me something to live for. Why do I feel so drugged about sharing myself though. Do I have anything to give? What difference can I make? I want to make an impact somehow.

. . . but even as I’m saying this I feel tired. I feel like I can’t. I feel damp.

How do I put myself in inspiration’s way? How do I make good on life’s promise? Is the question the destination? Is this process the art?

I believe in the process.

I’ve always loved the phrase, “Where do I go from here?” How do I translate what it means to exist as me into a hearable, manifestable expression? Is anyone listening to hear? Or do I just need to do it, so I can hear my own voice?