Tag Archives: poetry

My sister! My strength!

My sister. So incredibly awesome & talented. This arrived today from 800 miles away wrapped in love with her handwriting immediately comforting me. A perfect fit for this sickly lady and my honey/lemon tea. The poet is not in me today, but it was so neat to see MY words, my heart’s work, on this cup. #thoughtful #loved #mysister #okwithchange @meganclark28 via Instagram http://ift.tt/1xcIIQp

For My Lovebug – it’s November

Excerpt from A Warrior’s Tale, a poem From my blog. For #mylovebug For #eftxphotochallenge #day13 #love #epilepsyawareness #mypoem

Excerpt from A Warrior’s Tale, a poem From my blog. For #mylovebug For #eftxphotochallenge #day13 #love #epilepsyawareness #mypoem #okwithchange via Instagram http://ift.tt/1pVACfk

Poem: A Portrait in a Prison

It’s in the time-stands-still moments I know you best.
A silken caress, a deep sigh of depression.
Mesmerizing eyes, faintly there.
A portrait in a prison.

It’s in the crush-my-heart moments I know you best.
A stinging grasp, a tormented cry of rage.
Piercing eyes desperately stare.
A dove in a cage.

It’s in the cotton candy moments I know you best.
The melting lips, a joyous gurgle of wonderland.
Sparkling eyes, reaching deeply.
A precious pearl in my hand.

It’s in these moments I’ve come to need you more, I believe.
I push away, I cringe.
I squeeze, I nurture, I breath.

Never would I be a million free birds,
But just one caged with you.
Nor do I dare loose my hands,
For a precious pearl awaits the blue.

Flying, falling, sinking, soaring,
We are yet to find the place to be free.
Cages and prisons and hands be damned.
Holding on I am, tightly for eternity.


Warrior’s Tale

We all start pure, simply loving being loved.

Pummeled with life’s reality we are shocked, afraid to give up our name.
The cloak of innocence shreds with every whipping wind and painful flame.

Icy blindfolds, iron chest plates —
If only we did not discover our true fate?

Life, a fiery goblet, pours down our throats
Sweet memories burned into our souls.
Forever forged with choices, chances, hopes.
We carry our torches crafted from golden memories,
— yearning to find our way.

Damaged with every scar, we push on.
But who of the great warriors survives
without bruises, scratches, burns?
Fighting we are, for every chance at the light,
— to carry our torches another day.

We grow wiser with life’s reality, but no less hopeful.
We grow braver, but no less careful.

Love’s flame casts shadows on yesterday’s scars.
Untouchable memories now white hot as stars.

We are still loved and love on forever.


Copyright 2014 Carrie Mamantov, The Rugrat Project

A Mother’s Fight

My arms crush you with Zeus’s strength, and yet it’s but a fleeting touch.
Swirling hurricane winds would fail to rip me away.
Unearthly is this force pulling me to you.

Trembling lips wrap you with iron love, attempting to protect as much.
No fearsome beast could stand to meet my burning eyes.
How weak my arms feel flailing to catch you.

I scream, see fire, claw at the pain.
I sigh, tears fall, it starts again.

Bring on the fight, however long it may be.
A mighty force stands by your side,
For eternity.

Copyright 2013 Carrie Mamantov