Heather ShepherdBlog MySpace de

0 Compliments

février 2, 2010 - mardi

role player (poem)

role playing

not sure how to love
a little bit
or how to leave my heart
half open
so open or shut
almost black and white
as dark and light
make their way through the canvas
as hope smolders
in the fire you extinguished
i say again
i am not sure how to love
just a little bit
or only on sundays
or from 10 pm to 2 am in the morning
it is either all or nothing
joy or pain
numb or un-numb
tell me again
how i should tether myself down
inside the ropes of reality
how intertwined i should be
with compromise and
settling for a dog and pony show
should be worthy even
when i wanted to fly with dragons
feel the heat from the fire
walk the coals and feel the burn
tell me how i should be happy
with luke warm in still waters
no ice no dice no anything
of what i swore to myself
in the beginning of all this
was what i 'wanted'
the excuse of why
i am not supposed to love so strong
water myself down like
a cheap drink
stop feeling so much
of passion and emotions
stop showing so much
for fear someone may be watching
and you care don't you?
what they say?
it is important as
what you are wearing
your role as defined by others
and the cloak you wear
to shield from the world from who you really are
how you really feel
the layers that you identify yourself with
to avoid the exposure of you
you without all the labels
the clothes the definitions
which make up your false identity
its a cheap imitation
of what i can see
when you think no one is watching
but me.

written by heather.m.shepherd All Rights Reserved.

2:06

0 Compliments

janvier 26, 2010 - mardi

hating h.i.m. (poem)
Humeur actuelle :

artistique

I hate him so much

I answer each time he calls my name

Whisper each time he breathes

I do hate him

In ways I cannot explain

I wear a T-shirt in his honor

Watching how I walk through the door

In familiar ways

And the love and hate swirls around him

Intertwined as in left foot, right foot

It is infuriating how predictable

Each night we are together

At war under covers

Wearing each other out

Proving something indescribable

When it is over I still wonder why we fight so much

After he leaves I shout at the stars

He calls and I don't answer

Only to pick up the phone two minutes later

To hear his voice

How unexplainable this is

I see it posted on my arm

Written down the side to my hips

He and I well it's complicated

And no its not over, it feels

As if it is just beginning

There is a shape of He and I

Together in a predictable frustration

Acting out sensations

Then the denial of each other's existence

Pretending the satisfaction of "being without her"

Is believable to even the common man

Who has forgotten what it is like

To love her

Who has forgotten what it is like

To love him

In a permanent fixture of lovers at war

written by heather.m.shepherd (c) All Rights Reserved.

5:22

1 Compliments

novembre 9, 2009 - lundi

What I Don't Believe
Humeur actuelle :

indescriptible

I don't believe
in pretending to be yourself
I don't believe you
should do something
just to gain approval
be nice because your taught to
hold in your emotions
because they tell you do
suck it up
because showing too much
well would be just too = real.
I don't believe in dressing up
what i wear is
what i want to wear
its the color I am feeling
the shape that suits me
the fabric in this moment of my life
i could wear it out at night
or in the office in the morning
cause its me
and i don't do pantyhose
or foundation
or dresses on a regular basis
i am not trying to look
like a label
i am not trying to be a label
I am just being me
in whatever way i am feeling
in whatever branch i stretch out as
in however deep those emotions go
and trying to assimilate me
into some preconceived notion
which some one taught you to believe
is just not going to happen
reach inside yourself
where your heart is
feel it beat
and that is where you will find me
i suppose if you don't like going there
being that close to who you are
then chances are we may never meet
I am a believer in creating things
you want but cannot see
In seeing things you don't want
Defining things you don't understand
Most of all I believe that either you
take me as I am or take nothing at all
I can't make you see me
But I can believe in the dream
that one day you will.

written by hmshepherd (c) All Rights Reserved.

5:54

6 Comm.

3 Compliments

septembre 28, 2009 - lundi

His Loving Arms
Humeur actuelle :

artistique

You think it stops
You swear it won’t always be this way
You will get over it
Ten years later you realize
Yes you moved on but
It merely became a part of you
If it only makes me stronger
I must be reinforced steel by now
Yet my heart beats
Steady-like it is dependable
Walks with me right foot to my left
In unison my friend
Yes I am here to stay
Eyes closed till I no longer feel the pain
Of the past
Silent tears fall
‘oh no I just have allergies’
Wondering if he believes me
I admit pain to no one but myself
I understand it best
Trails of my tears as if I know each one by name
Like stripes I earned
For still being here in a world of humanity
I sang that song holding on to life
Staying cause he said
‘I’d die without you here”
Not free to leave also not free to stay
I lay next to him – he with him molding
Around my curves encased with his arms
So now I feel his heart beat and not my own
A slight feeling of entrapment
Until his lips gently kiss the side of my neck
*knock knock* ‘please let me in’
My heart beats louder
From fear, from relief
Stop fighting me
He holds me tighter
I suppose to let me know
He isn’t going to leave
Relaxing a sigh of breath
Escapes my lips
My soul betrays
My reinforced steel
My solitude begins to melt away
Removed by his loving arms
He starts to sing “let’s stay together”
I fell asleep there it was the last thing
I remembered about that night.

Written by hmshepherd © All Rights Reserved.

5:23

4 Comm.

1 Compliments

septembre 28, 2009 - lundi

A False Sense of Security
Humeur actuelle :

artistique

"A False Sense of Security"

I get this sense
These four walls I live in
Are not as strong as they appear
Falling easily, if prompted
By the right force of motion
As well, all the things set in place
To hold me up
Could simply be gone
In the right or ‘wrong’ set of circumstances
A time ago I put distance between me
And the drug addicts and alcoholics
I, in complex ways, call my family
How entrenched I found myself
At the age of 12 in that mockery of life
I could easily have used a blade as my knife
But I stopped and waited
Trying to muster patience
But hell I was there too long and got tired of waiting
Waiting for parents to finally grow up
For siblings to refuse the darkness and throw it up

Never happened, listen to me, it never did
I am still waiting in vain

Without vanity or false hope
It overwhelms me some times
The truth there lies in my eyes
It’s like a super woman who hard as she tried
Never could save anyone but herself
Almost feeling selfish
Cause I held on to the life perserver
For a better way
And cut the ties which bound me
Feeling strong; feeling new
A brand new me who nobody knew
Still I glance over my shoulder
At the memories hardly forgotten
Realizing I have built this
False sense of security
Convincing myself
The past was the nightmare
Still fighting to forget
Cause this is serious
Is this really what I wanted?
How I wanted my life mapped out
Losing the simplicity
Of love, desire and happiness
Walking the thin line of success and failure
Tied down by outside expectations
It’s a feeling deep inside of me
That this fight didn’t exactly set me free

Written by hmshepherd (c) All Rights Reserved.

4:16

0 Compliments

août 17, 2009 - lundi

Self Beauty
Humeur actuelle :

curieux

Self Beauty

Beauty is not useful
Until someone thinks you are beautiful
Because then it means something
Until then it is just some thing
Said but never felt.
I believe you should feel beauty
Not just merely state it as a phrase.
Unless you happen to be self centered
Or arrogant and love to look at your reflection
And seek to carry in banner style
Which I am not
So I toss it to the side until
A specific day when someone sees beneath
My surface and says
“you are more than beautiful”
And I feel that beauty grow inside me
Cause what good is it to be what is desired
Until you one day feel his desire
Rushing inside of your body from
A place in the center where your
Soul rests peacefully in
His beautiful compliments
Because love and beauty
Is plain as paper until you live it
And the surface of it is non requited
It is in living memories
And goes deeper than this
Which is why I want to paint beauty
Like a portrait on parchment paper
And sign my name like an artist
As to etch an image so striking
It stains the memory in timelessness

Written by hmshepherd © All Rights Reserved.

8:06

2 Comm.

1 Compliments

juillet 28, 2009 - mardi

Love in the 10th Degree
Humeur actuelle :

espiègle

the prognosis: love in the 10th degree
much stronger than your typical caring and devotion
this one torn from the depths of the deepest ocean
i try not to rhyme and make this too distracted
but the love in your eyes just delivers me somewhere
inside this emotion you emit like reality counter acted
a reality in like here goes another day with nothing special to tell
to notions of grandeur it sifts in my memory all too well
grace and excellence intertwined in each touch
a thin veil of lace dark crimson slithers
around my shoulders and down my silhouette
your familiar touch up toward my supple curves
do you know what supple means?

a: compliant often to the point of obsequiousness or
b: readily adaptable or responsive to new situations

i find that to be a very adequate tell tale expression
and not misleading it all
also it is described as pliant
as to how i have been since i met you
learning through you to
“be adaptable or responsive to new situations”
learning to let go of my stance cause you are ready
thinking back and i know i want to be your journey
when i say well traveled it is because you
keep walking through my thoughts inside
and if i am such a perfectionist i would say
that means i will find a way to love you perfectly
the more i write for you the
more i see how the way you love me
inspires me in ways you won’t find in a dictionary
or a random book of poetry
its love in the 10th degree
its letting go to get so much
this feeling you keep giving me
dissolving some preconceived notion of
what love would look like
instead I put a picture of you there
so these dreams become my reality
and old realities become mere bad dreams
i look forward into the horizon
instead of backwards where i once was
incredible really the change you made in me.

written by hmshepherd (c) All Rights Reserved.

3:13

10 Comm.

2 Compliments

juillet 11, 2009 - samedi

for nothing
Humeur actuelle :

adoré

its a succession of days

folding one after the other

just timing me for my arrival

how often how long and when

am i going back

so the observer becomes analyzed

in ways which were unaware

the reflection of images

changes with the times you

create your presence to be known

and i am here arent i?

judged manifested and categorized

for your expectations

its a strange occurence to be living

for everyone but me

its a frustration of things

my energy being sucked into

the black hole of the universe

i walked through the days that turned into weeks

which became years

i found it almost impossible to count the mere minutes

within them which had born my name on them

and no i am not my own island

but i would like to think i earned a degree

in my life to have built at least a road

and not for everyone else who thought

i should be living for them

the flabbergasting expectation

the pieces now owned of me for them

so still i struggle to break free

to not be bound

to not be categorized

to not be labeled

to shock the system into understanding

this I did for me

surviving in the most chaotic of times

as your chaos became mere memories

my possibilites flowered in abundant frangrances

my time which i own defiantly

setting the course to navigate

my journey into progress of something new

transplanted by my personal space

i changed as you nobly, astutely noticed

to benefit my self, my body, my humanity

so the folding of days, my days

1:31

2 Comm.

1 Compliments

juillet 6, 2009 - lundi

limits: hazard signs
Humeur actuelle :

excentrique

i guess speed limits and boundaries
are the way of the society here in this local corner
being suggested and told and pushed to conform
in ways that are so against my nature
i want to move out of the good 'old US of A
pretty sick and tired of the love of money
seems almost everyone is infected
i am actually shocked that the arts still manage to survive
because even artists get sick
selling cds for dollars like strippers on a pole
dying for mansions and mazaratis
or maybe just a bentley or two sitting on the pavement
with initials carved in the seats
it is the slave to the crave
it is where am i now and who knows that street
like where we live is the best in the world
its struggle like humans
and temptations like demons in the garden
we are so weak
we claim so much strength
but against odds we fall like Titans
leaving marks no jack hammer can destroy
its so typical its so obvious
we are so us aren't we?
i guess the fed up in me is full
people so predictable i wonder
where is the challenge
and they swing so fast on that pole
its like rug burns on the inner thighs
of their souls
im not writing what you want to hear
i am writing what my inner mind is dying to scream
i guess
or maybe cocktails and freedom
just created the most unlikely bedfellows
and i be damned most anyone because
the mediocrity makes me sick to my stomach
and like too high up in the air
i just want to touch the ground
its almost as if the untamely me
hardly cares what he says anymore
its just preplanned preorganized puke
hardly sellable
hardly worth the breath
rise my friend until the last dollar
lands on the ground
i know the cutting edge leaves you
sensitive to the touch
but i am so worn out of hearing excuses
people refusing to get angry and admit
some things are like a sexual high leaving you feeling nothing physical
everything sensual
other things so hot with fire anger rage and desire
you don't know what to do with it or who to put it in
cause who really was trained to stand the heat
seems i don't care if i am crazy enough to speak
i am so tired of holding my mouth closed
so sick of watching others cower to not cause a wave
or to just sit to calm a storm
i don't care if i make you uncomfortable
i hope with everything inside me i prickle your skin
with orbs of fire.

written by hmshepherd (c) All Rights Reserved.

8:47

2 Comm.

1 Compliments