Tug of War | When questioning our purpose and our goal,
there’s tug of war between the heart and mind.
While one, mirrors the fantasies of soul,
the other seeks reality, to find.
If trying to find Prince among the toads,
perhaps a woman dreams her life... | Gisela Vigil |
Courage is Never a Roar | Courage is Never a Roar
Courage is always unspoken,
though gallant the sounds that would soar.
For bravery travels in silence.
Its melody never a roar.
If Courage would cause a commotion,
announcing the battles it’s won,
the badge... | Gisela Vigil |
Dinosaur Standing on Quicksand | What’s this I hear about
generational curses
to reverse and undo?
Glossy banners riding on
waves of change,
held by many who are
unaware they are
still standing at the start line
of a race that hasn’t begun.
What is this curse they... | Gisela Vigil |
Psst! | Psst!
You, yes you,
who promised me forever
forgot to tell me
that Antonym was
your middle name.... | Gisela Vigil |
Bet You Thought | Bet you thought you could undo
the final ending of that act.
Like a painter
who will brush a tiny touch
of white over the blue
to cover a spot
which looks too bold,
or an actor who
forgets part of a line
then improvises so that
... | Gisela Vigil |
Vinegar & Honey | In the color spectrum of life, I am never found on the /in between/ space but rather standing on either black or white.
After you, after us
I find myself drifting over a space of muted hues, sending emotions into free fall. ... | Gisela Vigil |
Forever Never | If I knew forever, meant never with you
I would have never, dreamt about forever with you
And if I knew my love, meant nothing to you
I would have never, loved with my forever for you
And if I knew we, meant you and me separately to you
... | Karen Rose Washingt… |
The Burning Candle | The Burning Candle
(A Sonnet)
Once long ago, when life for me was new,
I could not walk unless I held a hand.
With mind of child, did not know what to do.
With innocence, I could not understand.
Throughout my growing years someone was... | Gisela Vigil |
A Wise Choice | To be alone is
better than choosing to stay,
to not be alone.... | Gisela Vigil |
Questions to Ask Fate | Questions to Ask Fate
Did fate decide upon your birth
in which direction winds would blow?
And when a road comes to a bend
to right or left, which way to go?
Do your life choices play a part
in what the future has in store?
Will... | Gisela Vigil |
Not One Word About You | At times, I can mass produce poems faster than machinery in a production line. A feeling felt, an intriguing question, a simple thought will generate the prancing of words in my head, each pushing and shoving each other to be the first to be... | Gisela Vigil |
The Candles | There are those that hold the candles
while another lights the flame.
There are many doing nothing
without feeling any shame.
We all need the candles burning
without light we couldn’t bear.
Our existence would be nothing
if the candles... | Gisela Vigil |
Disremembering | Wish you were not a memory
that visits in my sleep
Yet under glow of moonlight
old visions start to seep.
Of walks in woods collecting
some acorns from a tree
for we found simple beauty
that others could not see.
A snowflake as its... | Gisela Vigil |
Under the Stars | Lying next to you under the stars.
Hearing softest whispers in the breeze.
Sweetest dreams erasing daylight scars.
Peaceful mind embracing all it sees.
Hearing softest whispers in the breeze. Moonlight casts its glow in summer air.
... | Gisela Vigil |
The Stick | The Stick
I wish from me so far you’d stand.
My wicked friend with stick in hand.
No matter path in which I stray.
You walk beside me all the way.
What is this goal that you do seek?
To frighten me, to make me weak?
Your staff with... | Gisela Vigil |
One Drop | Like an eerie peacefulness
riding on the skirt of turbulence
within the eye of a storm,
there is a lull
that goes unnoticed.
I hear it as I stand amidst the crowd.
It’s deafening silence plays like a symphony.
Yet not many can sense it.
... | Gisela Vigil |
What Love Does | It seeks to understand
what is not comprehensible,
adding clarity to darkness,
providing shade from
scorching rays of sun.
It forgets not the past yet
does not stand in its shadow.
It weathers each turbulent tide
upon the same life... | Gisela Vigil |
Broken Wing | I saw a blue jay by a tree.
A song of beauty he did sing.
He lay upon his side so still
because he had a broken wing.
What precious melody he sang
although he was so very small.
His wisdom caroled through the air.
A mighty lesson for... | Gisela Vigil |
Shades of Faded Grey | Brushed upon a canvas
with only colors, black and white
spark images of consequences
of actions taken, or not.
Would left or right turn on a path
have changed a goal still left unmet?
Would joys become collected tears?
Or pain of wound... | Gisela Vigil |
Painted Rainbows | I wish I could adorn your path,
paint rainbows in your sky.
And when the journey gets too rough,
I’d give you wings to fly.
I wish I could prevent the tears,
make troubles go away.
Lift up the sail in stormy seas,
add sunshine to... | Gisela Vigil |
Between the Foolish and the Wise | There’s some who give unwarranted advice,
believing in their hand lays wisdom grown.
In lives of others, spark it does entice
although no bit of knowledge do they own.
A man may claim the ownership to rule.
When time to dish out words,... | Gisela Vigil |
A Few Seconds | Did you ever ride a rollercoaster?
As it goes up, up, up
you hold on tight
as tension mounts,
feel a lifting
of your stomach,
unable to breathe,
unable to speak
while fingers ache
as they clutch
the metal bar.
Your senses return ... | Gisela Vigil |
Dead but Alive | I breathe, walk, speak
on schedule,
just as a tree knows
when it’s leaves
should fall.
Gathering the strength
of ocean waves
as they crash
upon the shore,
I sometimes
force a smile.
In my eyes ,
the sun and moon
reflect the same.... | Gisela Vigil |
A Poet’s Touch | A fallen leaf,
a poet can still see its glory.
Before it’s told
a poet imagines the story.
Amidst a crowd,
all voices become an illusion.
When poets write,
untangled is web of confusion.
Yes dreamers dream
with flame of the candles... | Gisela Vigil |
The Script | A writer writes
not for the fame and applause,
maybe for passion or cause,
for the Earth’s spinning, a pause.
A writer writes
to speak of words kept unsaid,
thoughts still asleep in a bed
or to feed questions unfed.
A writer writes
... | Gisela Vigil |
Unsung Celebrations | Birthday parties, graduations.
Those special occasions where
divorced parents breathe the same air.
Sharing a moment
for the sake of the kids.
As the Courts say,
in the best interest of the child.
There he stood.
The man I entrusted... | Gisela Vigil |