Archive for the ‘Inspirational Poetry’ Category

WhatifLifewasaMetaphorPHOTODOORS

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Insecurities
*****************************

Sometimes among a large crowd,
I think I hear everyone's chasing thoughts
and judgements within my mind, all echoing aloud...

but perhaps... it is just fear...
Just internal fear, screaming in my ear.

I see all of their intimidating eyes...
staring back at a so small me - 
and I wonder...
what is it, 
that they see?

Do they see...
the real me ?

Do I even want them to see?

Sometimes, in the midst of conversation,
I get lost...
...voices trail off to lands ago,
and my mind, calculates all the things
from hours ago - 
that I needed to know....

Before I realize it,
the conversation has gone...
and so have I...

...among friends,
I may talk, laugh and tell jokes to no end

But even then, after it is all over,
I wonder...
Did they laugh because they truly thought it was funny?
...or deep down...
Were they all just laughing at ... the real me?

In a world, so full of quick judgement
and unrealistic expectations....
...it can be difficult to be...
REAL...

Human emotions can be challenging...
Hard to ...understand...to reveal...
even difficult to admit - how you feel.

Do we openly cry when we are sad - 
or do we run away and hide, behind a closed door-
because we fear that it looks bad?

Do we worry what others will say...
Because perhaps - we don't feel like talking today?

...sometimes...we feel so small...
Because the world has made us feel like...
we aren't really here at all.

Perhaps many of us are feeling the same...
But we just don't explain...
Because we worry 
that it will make us seem... plain.

Or perhaps, some of us are afraid to just be...human.

....Are we ashamed?
...or have we become -
NUMB?

- Ariana R. Cherry 2017






awareness

OCTOBER IS DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AWARENESS MONTH

****************************************
Domestic violence resources:

http://www.nrcdv.org/dvam/home
http://www.doveinc.org/
https://www.unitedmethodistwomen.org/domestic-violence
https://www.facebook.com/October-Is-National-Domestic-Viol…/

……If you know of someone who may be experiencing domestic violence – help them break the silence….Contact someone asap….. Sometimes it is much more difficult for the person in the situation to call out for help…..

 

Ariana R. Cherry: 5-Star Author

fixing_a_broken_heart__by_nonnetta

Normal Love

I thought my life was normal.
Caught up in my own farce,
I thought it was what
all the other couples did.
I knew no other way.

I let you let me cry.
I thought it was okay,
to feel like you wanted to die.

I saw others’ happiness…
I secretly watched that other guy,
lovingly caress
her face.
I thought it was all play,
not real.

In my world,
Love would not allow you
to feel.

Years of fighting an unruly heart,
While I allowed you to tear it apart,
and I never got to put it back together
EACH time.

I thought it was normal,
to feel so broken.

One late evening,
feeling so incredibly alone…
I had a recognition.

My heart cried out for life.
It begged to be realized.
It asked, that I run away
from the inflicting knife.

It beat at the thoughts

View original post 40 more words

WhatIf

What If

What if we forgot all the strenuous turmoil?
What if trauma no longer tainted our souls?
And what if, we all could be innocent again?

….There would be a universe without havoc…
Moving…in perfect sync,
as the full moon danced brightly in line with all of our wishing stars…
and there would be no tears to cry,
or pieces of our heartbreak to pick up off of the cold ground.
Violence no longer would rule….
But –

Could we become compassionate?

In a world where we live,
where everything seems frightening and so wrong,
we question, whether or not –

Can we be strong?

What if we stood up in a crowd where everyone sits down?
What if we took the time to sing out our inspirational message,
and told everyone of our journey –
Who we are….and where and when we became to be…

Would anyone listen?

We fear the silence….
and the rejection.

What if we forgot all of the turmoil…?
What if, love were to win?

Ariana R. Cherry 2017

 

 

stardust

SIMPLY STARDUST

The burning question that lies within,
deep into our hopeful wistful hearts,

the statement that wanders so freely throughout our inquiring mind…
An awaiting mystery we attempt to solve
so many times …
again and again…

For why do we dance upon this planet Earth that we call home?
What is our purpose of being each single day that we awaken
to one of nature’s beautiful sunrises?
For what or whom are we made?

The answer sings so sweetly from our soul…

We are spirits, made exquisitely from stardust…
simply stardust, dancing throughout the universe….
Souls waiting for our calling…

Simply stardust…

The science of our beauty,
the matter of our existence,
made from the One we call Father,
whom we ever so lovingly, await thy day he calls us home…

But as we await, our soul aches for the mystery…
A purpose we so longingly search for…
a reason for our being…
A reason, for which time, syncs to the setting of the sun and the rise of the moon…

Yet, when asked for what or whom we are made,
we answer…

We are spirits, simply made of stardust,
floating freely in this creation,
searching for a direction to be lead…

Simply stardust….”

One day, our mystery will awaken in our hearts
and a calling shall be heard from our awaiting ears…
the silence will be broken…

Because, he will have spoken.

****************************

  • Ariana R. Cherry 2017

 

 

I have created a new group on Facebook where you all can interact with me. I will post my most recent poems, previews to new books and poetry collections that I am working on, perform live poetry readings on Facebook and you will have a chance to buy my books BEFORE they go LIVE on Amazon…

Be sure to join my new group at:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/fansofarianarcherry/

 

PianoMagic

The Piano Magic
*************************************

Hidden in the backstreets within the fog of downtown New York,
sat the remains of an old abandoned theater.
Whispers and laughs of the yesteryear hung heavy in the air.
A lonely darkness with remnants of a forgotten energy
danced throughout the atmosphere.

Towards the front of the ole’ performance room,
was a once grand stage,
which now was adorned with black tattered curtains
and splitting and rotting wood.
Upon that once grand stage,
sitting alone in the cool darkness,
I witnessed the slim silhouette of a tired middle-aged woman…
who once, some years ago, was a youthful boisterous performer…

But now, here she sat, if frozen in time…
Still and lifeless- touched too much by a broken world.

Her long, aging fingers lingered across the out-of-tune piano keys,
searching for a dance, they once knew, which sang to a song of
timeless magic…

And there… she sat.
Lonely… out of touch…
Dreaming of a world that had once been…

Searching for…

Magic.

Hopelessly, wishing for…

Magic.

For the dark lights to once again, illuminate the ole’ grand stage…
and for people to file in with awaiting anticipation….
to hear the chatter…. laughter….
To feel the high energy of excitement….

That magic….

But now,
only silence hung heavy in this run down skeleton remains of a building…
A theater…with forgotten magic.

…And as if, in a dream, something else began to fill the air
Time…stood still…as a clock somewhere in the far distance began to chime…

The middle-aged woman slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head…
A lost tune of years gone by began to escape her chapped lips.
And from behind the black tattered stage curtains,
a bright moist golden red apple rolled towards the legs of the piano bench
of which the woman so listlessly sat…
Rolled out of nothingness…

As if from another realm.
Magic…

Lost in a trance, the woman bent down,
and retrieved the golden red apple.
After staring for some time, she took a hopeful bite…

And just like that of a fairy-tale,
the darkness lifted and transformed into a dream.

…Within a second…
and a snap of the fingers,

No longer the middle-aged woman that she was,
became a youthful lady dazzling in
a sparkling silver evening gown.
Joyful laughter bellowed from her
pink lips with her long soft red hair
cascading down her slim shoulders, free flowing.

Gracefully, she stood up and twirled,
her youthful fingers grazing the piano keys
in an upbeat Broadway tune.

Blinding lights warmed the now grand stage,
as it presented a soft glow around the lady,
Illuminating a once lonely stage.

And then there was....magic.

Classical music spiraled from the lively piano keys,
echoing off the walls.

For a time, hope filled the atmosphere…
A place where dreams come true-
No longer, a dark tired atmosphere.

Souls of those times gone by gathered in to witness the moment,
Applause rang out…
The magic of the music was alive…

MAGIC….

And just before the ending midnight hour chimed,
A dove flew overhead.

The illumination began to dim and the lights went low…
then darkness shadowed over the magical dreamland performance.
The tattered black curtains closed
and the classical song, faded…out-of-tune.

Lowering her head, the slim red-headed youthful lady,
began to gracefully age, once again…
becoming tired and listless…
She took a molded half-face white mask,
and slipped it upon her face,
closed her eyes as if in a trance…
Frozen in that moment in time – she stayed.

Lonely, in an abandoned theater,
in downtown New York,
waiting for….

Magic…to dance again.

Ariana R. Cherry 2017