Will it be...

will it be
in your arms
my head pressed to your chest
where I can hear your heartbeat

will it be
walking that path in the woods
our fingers laced together so tight
in a perfect way

will it be
when I know what you
are thinking by one look
one short simple look

will it be
in the middle of an argument
about something
I won't remember in an hour

will it be
when we're riding in the car
singing along
with that song we both love

will it be
when my tears get the best of me
and you hold me close
until my tears are spent

will it be
when I know you are near
without looking up
without seeing you

or will it be
the day I look at you
and know in my heart
that I love you

(will I ever know you?
will I ever know these moments?)

Fashion Forward Motion

I am not someone who looks like they would enjoy fashion, I mean I don't even dress up most days, just throw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans with some skate shoes or converse or my slip on shoes. But I love fashion, the art pieces, masterpieces really that are created by designers amazes and inspire me. To be able to glimpse the mind of the designer in the pieces that flow from their mind is a magical thing to experience. And to see how they present their art on the runway and in the magazines. While some pieces and pictures may be provocative for anyone, there is beauty in clothing. I recently heard fashion described as an expression of how beautiful the human body is. The stories that create a line, that help the designer build from the fabric the final pieces, are as different as the designers. It is sometimes a challenge to see what the designer is trying to tell you with their clothing. 


Sometimes I have a hard time seeing what God is trying to tell me. I can't see what he wants me to do, where he wants me to go. But in the little details, in the little blessings that God gives me everyday I see the a glimpse of who God is. I love those little glimpses, the beauty that each one holds is incomparable to anything... ever. The things, the stories, that make up my life are unique to me. The things I go through and have gone through and will go through shape me, make me into the person I am and will be. I hope that in the end the story that my life tells is filled with beauty. That the only thing that remains are those beautiful masterpieces, those pieces that God has made in me. And that people can find something in my life that speaks to them. 

Valuable?

I
glance to my right
and
look to my left

suspicious
curious
and
content

mixed emotions
flowing through my
nervous system

those surrounding me
seem to not see
that I am here
that I am valuable
just as they are

I feel ignored and
left out in the cold
hugging myself for warmth
and dreaming of a day
when I feel valued by
my peers
friends
and
strangers

while others seems to see
the value in each other
I feel like I am just
someone there when time allows

I would call out
holler
or yell
to get their attention
but I don't want to seem selfish
self-centered
egotistic

so I quietly stand
in the background
hugging myself
imagining a day
when I am noticed and
valued
and loved...

Poems from an early morning awakening....

The Heart of Things
by Brigitta Beam

why is it a heart that represents love?
why not a gallbladder or a lung?

no, those would not do

no organs in this bloody intricate body
are good enough or
pretty enough to represent such a thing as love.

but why the heart

that speeds in beat upon the entrance of
that one person or
the one that slows in pace when
we mourn the loss of someone near and dear to us

why does the brain not represent love?
that is where love is based
where the reaction comes from

but the brain isn't pretty enough to do the job either
its just a wrinkled mass
inside your skull processing
thoughts
feelings
emotions

so why does the heart represent love?

is it because it seems to be
the one place we can physically feel a reaction
the one place where we feel
emotional sickness
joy
love
pain

but even so the heart
that represents love
looks nothing like the heart
that beats inside of you
because, well that one looks too much like an organ...


Dreams at My Fingertips
by Brigitta Beam

awoke with a poem on my lips
bursting at the seams
thoughts of love never far from my mind
and words bouncing about in my skull
keeping the dreams at bay
but creating a dream world in my fingertips
these spastic moments come once in a while
some at inopportune times
like when I am trying to sleep
but the poet in me can't miss these moments
with the pen in my hand
because, well, I don't want the words
to make it to another poets head
jealous you say
no just trying to keep my creative oyster fresh
opening and closing it when the mood suits it
and leaving me sleepless and warm
but content
because I have formed thoughts into
words
sentences
paragraphs
only to run out again until the next go
so here is the dreamland of my fingertips
reminding you dreams aren't just for sleeping
dream often
return to your dreamland frequently just as I am going to mine now...

Let it all go?

Two mornings ago I woke up two hours before my alarm was supposed to go off with a poem coursing through my brain. I couldn't let the words get away from me so I poured them out into the notebook I keep by my bed for such occasions. At first I didn't even turn a light on afraid that any action other than picking up the pen and notebook would brush the words from my mind. When the first bit of thought poured out onto the paper I felt that I could turn the lights on the get the rest of it out. I ended up writing 2 1/2 poems that morning before returning to my bed to catch a little bit more rest. 

Is it possible that if we do the same when we are feeling weighed down with the things that haunt us the things that we hide from others and sometimes ourselves that we will be able to sleep better? Is it possible that if we get the things that haunt us out in the open that our lives will be free of the guilt and pain that we carry around with us? Why does it seem that so many times when people start to talk about the things that they are going through that might not be what we would call good news we suddenly want to change the subject and discuss happier things? We don't want to touch the bad things the dirty things that rule our lives. Because we don't want to admit that we aren't perfect that we struggle with stuff that everyone else suffers with. But I think that if we get this junk off our chest, out of our heads, off our hearts we will be able to rest easier and be able to talk to each other more freely and not feel as if we have to hide parts of ourselves from others fearing that we will be looked at differently or that people won't be able to look at us at all because of what they know. That might be the case for some people that you know, but the ones that matter will be there for you when you need them. I hope that I can soon get it all off my chest and be able to live freely from what haunts me.