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Welcome to belleblue

I call this place my safe haven because I come here to ease my mind from the daily fixations of life. I believe words are magical. Remember storytelling? For old folks their words became a script and to us as children a well played out movie. We could not get enough of the action, we listened, we dreamed and hoped to have adventures like theirs someday. Words are simple when we say goodbye but our tears reflect their complexity. If it weren't for these words, these simple words, the magic of being would not exist.

But we do exist, and we are here to shout to the world that we are present. In each and every particle of life, we are present in flesh, blood, time and space. And I love who we are... Yes I love what we've become. Greatness at its best and for that I love you life. I could say that I love you because you are here. Or because you are out there somewhere reading my words, my thoughts...

I can honestly say that I love you because you dare to close your eyes and dream... I love you because you choose to be you and no one else and that is just who God intended you to be... So come and stay with me if only fo
r a moment. Forget that we are older now and lie next to me on the cool green grass like when we were children. Close your eyes and dream that we are up there rolling like thunder above a fluffy white cloud. Copyright ©2016 Gi



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Poet: belleblue

Expression is nourishment for the soul and it is a blessing to be able to find a way to communicate our feelings, ideas or views freely and without feeling remorseful or holding back.

Poetry has allowed my freedom. I now dream and know that is okay to do so. Through words I travel into a world of past and present. It was your gift oh silent poem! To meet Shakespeare while we sipped on tea and got acquainted with another stranger who came from a different place.

We sat comfortably while he narrated stories never told before. His spirit cried tears that were never cried and found the leftover feelings somehow lost.

The three of us left the coffee shop to visit an ancient flea market and there we bought a rare feather pen. The stranger's tongue became the iron tip. He revealed his veins wish were made of blue blood ink. He then dipped the tip and wrote on old rice paper the ballad. It was a song for the woman he once loved with all of his heart, she was a rose by morning and the thorns by night. How she tore his chest open and pulled his heart out to feed it to the crows, but he loved her still...

The day came to an end and we bid each other farewell as we parted our separate ways. I kept the rice paper where it desired to stay, forever in your presence. It told me of its desire to be read by the simplest of eyes and heard by the loneliest of ears.


I am currently working on a few short stories!

Life is good, simple and blessed.

I have enjoyed my time here at poetry poem and all the feedback and good vibes I get
from the rest of the members.

I promised myself this year I would be more proactive- I want to meet you all folks!

Thanks for supporting my humble work, I am honored that you all are here and that you all care
to read my madness!

Much love to all,