“Waking Up At Sunrise”

February 27, 2014 at 7:45 am (Uncategorized)
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“Waking Up At Sunrise” by Trevor Witt

Waking up at sunrise,

I am

Sitting in a chair in the corner of my mind,
I open a window to let out the stale air.
Lifting the blinds, some sunlight finds its way in.

Cleaning off the cobwebs, my mind is free to ponder the thoughts of my heart.
The dust had rendered my gears immobilized, and my mindful heart had not been operated in years.

Finally awake, I see the stars again in my soul.
Awake again, I recognize the stars in my lover.

My wandering days are over,
For now, I sleep in this corner chair,
As the sun comes up.

For in my dreams I was awake all night,
And now that there are no more dreams to chase,
I need not be filled with fright.

All is calm, and all is still,
Save for the creatures waking up,
The birds and the butterflies by the window sill.

So good night to you all.
God bless and good luck.

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February 27, 2014 at 7:31 am (Uncategorized)
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“Tiny” by Trevor Witt

A glimpse.
That’s all we get.
A small blip on the radar.

A smile,
A laugh,
A tear.

No one knows the whole story.
No one knows when it began or where – or if – it will end.

A few paragraphs,
A page in the volumes of the annals of history.

We are droplets in a bucket.
We are grains of sand on the beach.

Yet we are the building blocks of the infinite.

“Escape” by Trevor Witt

Lost in the madness of his mind,
He suffers the brutal blows he inflicts upon his pride and his ego.

The battle cannot be won.
He surrenders to his dark side and disappears into the night.

The bridge of his faith is falling down.
He cannot rebuild it and decides to drown in the river with the descending debris.

Self destruction is his only method of self-control.
It is impossible to fail at that.
It is his rock.
His addiction.

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I’ve Never Been Good With Titles A.K.A. “The Fool in Debt”

February 19, 2014 at 7:57 am (Uncategorized)
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About today’s poet:

Trevor Witt is an aspiring writer and musician.  He has performed his poetry at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural and Bookstore and at Queen Bee’s Art and Cultural Center in San Diego and currently resides in San Diego.  You can contact him regarding his poetry via email at witt.tr@gmail.com.

“Debt” by Trevor Witt

Chains drag me down,
Pull me to the ocean floor.
These debts, these burdens,
Shut out Opportunity knocking on the door.

Rent.
Student loans.
Car insurance.
Health insurance, I wish.

Trapped by fear,
Overwhelmed by bills,
I use my addiction to cope,
Even though my finances it kills.

Dollars swirl around in my coffee,
Quarters dance the salsa in my burrito,
Twenties swim with the gas in the tank of my car.
My work outfit is sown with the threads of my paychecks.

I try to stop worrying.
I try to calm down.
I try to stop myself from obsessing.
But I am fixated on the due dates of payments.

Between budgeting money for gas and food,
There is no room for savings, no jar for a rainy day.

A life of romance is out of the question.
I have no money to pay for her chicken alfredo.

So I sit and sink into an ocean of debt,
Content to sip my cappuccino and enjoy my demise.

“The Fool” by Trevor Witt

Oozing anecdotes and sharing treasured trivia,
He seems to spew insignificant drivel.
But upon a closer look,
You find insights usually found in a book,
And you may learn a thing, or two, or three.

But, it is not for me to say,
How you view him today.
Perhaps he is just another fool on the hill.
Perhaps the whole world is moving and he is standing still.

Doing nothing,
He is called lazy.
Saying nothing,
He is called dumb.
But he has knowledge of which they are unaware –
though he has no ambition, no worries, and no cares.

He just wants to love and to live.
He just wants to be loved and to give.

 

 

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Two Up-and-Coming Poets

February 10, 2014 at 7:05 am (Uncategorized)
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We hope you are having a wonderful week.  As promised, we will continue to publish poems by up-and-coming poets at least once a week.  Here is our latest installment.

About today’s poets:

Alexandra Hohmann is a teacher in Los Angeles, has been the facilitator of In the Words of Womyn (ITWOW) at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural and Bookstore, and can be seen at open mic nights there and elsewhere throughout the San Fernando Valley.  You can ask her if you can purchase her collection of poems entitled Wild Heart by contacting her via facebook at http://www.facebook.com/alex.hohmann.58.

Trevor Witt is an aspiring writer, musician, web developer and programmer.  He has performed his poetry at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural and Bookstore and at Queen Bee’s Art and Cultural Center in San Diego and currently resides in San Diego.  You can contact him regarding his poetry via email at witt.tr@gmail.com.

“Trouble” by Alexandra Hohmann

I’m in trouble. Again.
My acid mouth spews sandpaper sentences,
controlled by a brazen brain.

But the real culprit is
the heart,
perfectly healthy save for a button-sized rough spot
caged behind the ribs,
calloused and scabbed over
like a wound that never properly heals.

So every time you say
“I can’t make any promises.”
“We’ll see.”
“I don’t know.”
the scab falls off
and the heart aches
and the brain commands
my vile mouth and biting tongue.

My body is the real trouble-maker.
It’s really not my fault.

“Ode to a Fading Flame” by Trevor Witt

Every night I leave a candle in my window,
To guide you should you choose to come.
The flame burns faintly,
But does not disappear.
I once tried to feed it with fuel,
But the fire was not affected.
I once tried to douse it with water,
But no effect could be discerned.
Then, one night the candle burned so brightly,
The time you visited and held me tightly,
It seemed as if the whole house was ablaze,
I had never seen such a light in all my days.
Since that night, which burned so bright,
My eyes struggle to see in this dim light.
Others have come to stay at my humble inn,
But none of them has ever made me grin,
As when my special friend drew me near,
For a kiss I had longed for for a year.
I wish you would come visit again,
My favorite guest and beloved friend.
I wish you would draw me close to you once more,
But I am afraid I am not the one you adore.
Still, you are my cherished flame,
My young heart’s children’s game.
I wish that you would share your fears and your desires,
So I, with you, could conspire to set your universe on fire,
To help your dream blaze burn,
And to help your globe glow and turn.
But without your love, my weary wick will one day give out,
And when that candle does collapse,
So will I, I have no doubt.

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“Instead of Sleep”, “Knots”

February 4, 2014 at 3:04 am (Uncategorized)
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Welcome to Poetry 2 Ponder!  We’re here to treat you to excellent poetry from talented poets.  From now on, we will be posting at least once a week.  Feel free to comment if there is a poem which inspired you, relaxed you, related to you, or otherwise affected you.  I’d prefer if our readers leave the negativity at home.  Opinions on the poems and how they made you feel are welcome.  Any personal attacks on any writers will not be tolerated and will be deleted.  All poems unless otherwise noted are by Trevor Witt.  All poems are copyrighted by their authors.

About today’s poets:

Alexandra Hohmann is a teacher in Los Angeles, has been the facilitator of In the Words of Womyn (ITWOW) at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural and Bookstore, and can be seen at open mic nights there and elsewhere throughout the San Fernando Valley.  You can ask her if you can purchase her collection of poems entitled Wild Heart by contacting her via facebook at http://www.facebook.com/alex.hohmann.58.

Fathmath Sana is a CPA who lives in the Maldives.  She is an amazing poet whose blog I came across serendipitously while trying to find the author to another poem.  You can find her poems posted on her blog at http://www.boxofdaydreams.blogspot.com/.

“Instead of Sleep” by Alexandra Hohmann

Instead of sleep,
she tidies the tiny space she calls her own,
positions a Goodwill chair to cover another
fist-sized hole in the wall,
Instead of sleep,
she pushes through a third shift,
light-headed and bleary-eyed,
sweeping the dingy diner floor.
Instead of sleep,
she lets a man inside her —
maybe just to dull the ache —
wonders about things like
self-worth
honesty and
love.

She dreams in the daytime,
lets the light caress her,
dreams soaring dreams
fueled by ambition and travel,
dreams of a chance to leave the never-ending
carousel ride.
She dreams under the sun,
guarded, patient,
of the day she can finally
sleep.

“Knots” by Fathmath Sana

Its frozen,
The clouds, the sky,
the movement of the tides
Its cold, the icy breath
Of loneliness I breathe
In a steely sigh
Drifting like pale smoke
Fading away
Into the broken sky
The lost echoes
Of a distant memory
Humming, just drones
Like my limbs and bones
all drag on the
Cold hard ground
And time
Is like the wisps
of all that’s left
Tying up strings of kisses
Into tidy knots
to tuck away
To hide away
From all that’s bitter
And I breathe in
and hold onto my knots
Its all of you,
your breath and laugh,
your warmth and touch
all strings that’s tied
me so tightly to you.

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