Poetry Magazine featuring poetry, short stories and informative articles.
Pen names are a beautiful thing. They are cocoons, allowing for the metamorphosis of a writer or poet. A writer either reveals their identity or they find solace in their cocoon. I know many talented poets whose identities are still a secret to me. Anonymity has its perks, and many writers become published this way. Not all paths lead to the same place. For those that want to be known, I have chosen to use my website to promote their work, along with my own.
Eve Poetry Magazine is an organic evolution of my great love to support and help others. I use my social media pages, both @eve_poetry and @evepoetrygroup to create inspiration and mentor others. Becoming a published author depends largely upon marketing. I use my skills in marketing to help bring light to beautiful poetry and writing.
Everyone has a story. People who share their written stories deserve to be seen and heard. This is the heart behind Eve Poetry Magazine.
Currently, I am polishing up my first novel. I schedule reading and writing into my days, and although there are days this is tough, it’s completely worth it! Having a full time job and writing a novel requires strong time management. However, pursuing my passion is worthy of grappling such things!
Recently, I attended my first writers’ conference. The Willamette Writers Conference was an amazing experience. I made friends with female writers and connections with talented authors and industry professionals. In conclusion, I can proudly say that I’m pursuing my dream of becoming a published author.
making it the frontier of my agony.
These warm days won’t
make these winters go
that have settled in me
just like the rust making
the metal weak.
These stars wont be
my remedy anymore
for it reminds me of you.
These poetries won’t help me anymore
for you are not meant to
be written
in between these lines.
You are boundless
that even 26 syllables
Fall short for you.
This sky is not the same anymore
for I am not sharing
it with you.
My heart ask for days
when it will shed all these heartaches
and summers will be back again,
when you and I
Will meet again.
Shimmer lovingly across the night sky
What do the stars sing about?
A question that needs no answer
As its twinkling lights
Testify of wonders unknown
and treasures undiscovered
When little, her feet are considered footprints of the Lord,
With her chirps sounding as the music from the chord,
She tries to roam around her parents like a flexible cord.
Truly, being a daughter is a blessing of God.
Taunting and scolding him, she holds the golden chance to be her father’s mother,
She guards her family like a sharpened sword.
Truly, being a daughter is a blessing of God.
Knowing when they need care and when they are hurt,
Her heart beats for them and prays for their wellbeing from the Lord,
Truly, being a daughter is a blessing of God.
That she always tries to keep apart,
Who will love her parents without the greed of any reward,
Truly, being a daughter is a blessing of God.
She feels afraid to fly away from them like the birds,
She is empowered to be utter emotional yet firm as a rod,
Truly, being a daughter is a blessing of God.
Setting sail to get through hundreds miles filled with fog
Somebody once promised me that there would be better days to come along
Watching my life unfold, oh how it was just a bore
Crippling me to the bone
Have me wishing that the end was near
As I was standing at the sail on my own
Watched me with a hunger
That made me ponder how many souls it claimed over the years
Pondering how many times it was a martyr of people’s tears
And suddenly this was where fear disappeared
For once I was not scared of the unknown
I welcomed fear and all that it may bring
The courage stained my skin just as if it was made of ink
It kept on following me
No matter how long or how fast I ran
Pinched myself a thousand times
In hope of waking up from this nightmare
They were out to get me
I could feel the darkness caving in
Soon it was cold, I was out of breath
It caught me, it wanted to kill me
I have been running from the shadows of my past for years
I was finally realising my dream
but the light made the shadows reappear
I was made to remain in the dark,left hopeless and walked upon
That was the message my shadows told me
While stripping myself of all dreams, hopes and life
Can I just write
About something beautiful
Not educational or earth-shattering
Just a smattering
Of word paint
Watercolor for the soul
Like a sunset or fruit bowl
The sound of nothingness
While looking at the stars
Or the deafening roar of a waterfall
Drowning out the dark
How the soothing sound of crickets chirping
Brings me back to being ten
Sleeping in the basement of my grandparents’ again
I just floated away from my complicated life
And was someone else for a while
Loved and valued just for being a child
I used to walk forever under the almond trees
Make my way to the edge of the Tuolumne
I’d walk out to the bridge
And watch the clear water swirl by
And then row in the aluminum boat
And feel strong and light
My grandparents’ stories of the past
Mingled with my dreams for the future
And now I wish I could go there
For one last great adventure
I’m so glad I got to go there with you
Before time buried the memories from view
Reflection sometimes makes rose-colored glasses
And even more, as time passes
But that’s ok with me
Give me the almond tree
Come away with me
To the whisper of the river
The echo of the cliffs
The stillness of the blue towering sky
Hot, fragrant grass fields slowly sun-dried
To the old bungalow and it’s storage tower
Beckoning us to rummage hour after hour
To the dredge camp and all its history
Stories shaded in the overgrown trails
Weathered remains of cabins speak veiled
And now that you’ve shared this with me
We’ll keep it alive in our memories
My anxieties are always chasing the future.
Frustration grows as I know
I will never leave the present.
I’ll seclude myself from you
to include myself with me.
Nothing exists when I am alone.
I stop time.
contemplate existence.
Nothing exists when I am alone.
But my skin still falls ever so slightly with each thought passing me by.
A cruel reminder that I am wrong.
Even when my clock stops
the world clock tick-tocks.
As I relentlessly obsess over what comes next
I abandon the present.
I abandon the future.
I am stuck in a construct of my own lifeline.
I’m unsure how to see outside this frame of mind.
My ego is my enemy.
My only security.
The present comes packaged with a ribbon
that I don’t have the guts to undo.
Depersonalization is the feeling of being disconnected from one’s physicality.
My body is here but my mind is wherever you are.
I ache for you like a phantom limb...
acutely aware of your absence.
I searched, but was unable to find a word that describes what it is to feel present in my body only when it is in close proximity to yours.
My mind wages a constant assault against any thought that crosses through that does not pertain to you.
I manifest a life with you through daydreams.
Derealization is an alteration in the perception or experience of the external world so that it seems unreal.
How I only feel like my truest self when I’m with you; But I’m never really ‘with’ you...
Just a deep visceral longing.
When you’re gone I feel this immense emptiness where you should be.
Like the infinite density of a black hole.
If it weren’t for gravity, we wouldn’t even know black holes exist.
You’re my gravity.
And I’m slowly collapsing in on myself like a dying star to become nothing and everything all at the same time.
