Missing Link

A departure from this dimension.
A lifeline lost in translation.
A mistake, I am sure.
An immeasurable amount of love is missing.
Meanings seem to have blurred.
Miscommunications a daily occurrence.
No more connection to the past.
Have I been misguided in what should be?
Misinterpretation becoming a routine.
Making confusion a normality.
Meandering through a life now dulled.
More than not, finding my face wet from tears.
No longer here to mend my broken heart.
Masking pain being the hardest task.
Memories are my only solace.
My only comfort in the days to come.




Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

Mr. Cat

To hear that crazy old saying.
“It rains like cats and dogs.”
To think you came from above.
Nowhere else would explain.

Oh cat, where are you from?
I met you at my basement door.
Oddest is as oddest does.
For indeed, none other explanation be needed.

Mr. Cat, where ARE your clothes?
Heaven forgot to send?
No indeed, mine will not fit.
For tailored I must now find.

You meow like a dog.
Bark like a cat.
I dare say, and oddity indeed.
Wherefore ARE your catlike ears?

Clever is your every word?
Hold!
You talk?
An oddity you truly are!

Philosophy you have majored in.
Mr. cat what ARE you looking for?
A painting?
I have just the one.

Oh cat, to find you a sentimental type.
I have seen your collection.
Where did so many come from?
A friend you say?

Dear friendliest cat.
Where are you going?
To wander around the night?
Indeed, you truly are the oddest cat.




Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©
Nya!

Lamp, by my side

A crack in heavens door splits.
Outpouring her strength and torment.
Horses thunder out of the clouds.
Heavens angry flashes have lit the sky.

Tonight I stay along in quaking fear.
Lights flicker in and out.
My constant companion by my side.
Steady and dependable, my night lamp shade.

I am not here tonight.
Thinking better of days afore.
Trees sway with me in the wind.
The softness of grass my loving shoes.

Heavens anger brings me back.
A jolt of fear leaves me quivering.
Where is my most comforting friend.
My dearest, reliable friend by my side.

Terror is not with me long.
Quickly finding my reprieve.
Thinking of summers in Venice.
Luscious fruit my daily treat.

Seeing beyond what is before me.
Beautiful, vibrant light upon my skin.
Drinking in the heat of summer days.
To happily stay like this forever.

Thundering horses are at my door.
I have been broken out of my reverie.
Loudest, their crashes strike the air.
Louder yet, they destroyed my peace.

Shrouded by shadows in the dark.
Lamp, share your light with me.
Shade not for a moments time.
Give me your strength amongst this fear.

Silence has broken sound.
Angry, flashing strikes no more.
Horses have thundered from this place to the next.
As I sit alone, my loving friend and lamp, by my side.



Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

Previous Drawing

(This one isn't exactly complete either.)

Everyday Walk

Trip, fall down those descending stairs.
Choke, swallow all that pride.
Kick, scream with pent up frustration.
Steam, cool off from stress.

Hope, faith hardest to come by.
Love, peace not easy to live by.
Patience, longsuffering seems far away.
Joy, truth should be the way we live.

Easy, tempting enough to give in.
Road, leading to a final destination.
World, sin bringing me to my knees.
Evil, wickedness everywhere we turn.

Kindness, giving should be our actions.
Meekness, humility our attitude.
Good, humble in our demeanor.
Righteousness, being our everyday walk.

Drained, weakened by evil doers.
Cut, bleeding our heart screams.
Danger, traps our constant worry.
Fear, consume our every thought.

Rise, lift up Yah’s Qodesh name.
Sing, praise his glorious wonders.
Rejoice, declare his works to the world.
Live, Laugh, Love him forever more



Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

She has come

She is nearing.
Her approach silent.
She comes like a thief in the night.
One moment gone.
The next standing by your side.

She creeps in the night.
Unlike her companions.
She is the coldest.
Bringing on the first shiver.
She has come to stay.

The season has come.
She will be here.
Not to leave us be.
We are stuck till the unforeseen.
She has frozen time.

Her smile broadens.
Cold as ever.
Content in this winter wonderland.
Winter has brought her beauty.
I am here to stay.



Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

Fiction

Shifting in and out of awareness.
Constant chaos my companion.
Having long ago found my escape.
Drifting away from the present.

Where are my allies?
Why do arrows strike the ground?
Reality is a haven for the misconceived.
Fiction being hell for the common.

Not like you or I.
We find solace in vibrancy.
Not like you or I.
Who find joy in the unusual.

Enemies are my closest friends.
Watching my back.
Waiting for the opportune moment.
To use their polished dagger.

Think not that I am innocent.
I see all that is not heard.
I hear all that is not seen.
Think not that I do not know.

Non-fiction has become a horror.
Where to escape?
There is no door in view.
Where to run from beautiful villains?

Woe, to this misconstrued world.
Fear is their comfort.
Holding tightly to it.
Never to release their pacifier.

Who are you who think to trick such as I?
Your target is not so easy.
You will soon find.
This fiction is very real.


Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©

Unfinished Poem

(This is a poem I wrote years back. I couldn't find the inspiration to write a new one. I figured I would just post an older one. I pray you enjoy it.)


Her pen lingers on an empty page.
Her thoughts wandering to a new scheme.
Should she write about life?
Should she write about love?
Or should she write about the unseen?

Not knowing which of these to pick.
Her thoughts falling to the unknown.
Why does she have this curiosity?
Searching for answers that cannot be known.
Why can she not write like all the others?

How does she write about life?
If she has not lived it?
How can she write about love?
If she has never felt it?
How can she write about the unseen?
When even the scholars do not know?

Should she write a playful poem?
No, too jolly.
A sad and tragic poem?
Too dramatic.
A tale about love?
Then again, what does she know?
Oh! The life of a poet.
Trying to conjure up what no one has.
It is all so un-befitting.

Ah! The inspiration for a poem has come.
Why did she not think of this sooner?
A child could have thought of it.
It took her this whole poem.
To think of such a simple answer.

She should write from her heart.
Now wouldn’t that be a great start?


Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©