The Beast and the Rose – Poetry


The Beast and the Rose
by Talin Mari

The rose petals fell one by one,
The tempest was heading west,
Unable to control this calamity,
It hugged each petal at its best.

The Beast who mourned the rose,
Witnessed the tempest’s arrival,
Cried to God to stop the damage,
The rose petals unable to submit.

The angelic Beauty stood not afar,
She glanced at the dropped petals,
Her eyes illuminating her presence,
The tempest sprint away mystified.

The Beast who mourned the rose,
Hugged each lost petal at his best,
The angelic Beauty saw from afar,
Her eyes mended all of the petals.

The End

Timeless Magic – A Poem


Timeless Magic
by Talin Mari

Magic exists when time is left to float among the beauty of the day,
Always aware that it will be able to fly, never once will it wrinkle.
Magic exists when the heart opens its wide chambers so untamed,
Always aware that the blood will violently flow, never will it regret.

Youthful in its kind soul does the timeless beauty creep into existence.
Youthful in its caring heart does the thrilling flow impress other lives.
Timeless is the nature of the magic that will never be able to be duplicated.
Timeless is the nature of the youthful magic that never ages in its space.

Magic is loved,
Always is mysterious.
Youthfulness is embraced,
Timelessness is anticipated.

The End

Poetry to Break Free and Dream


Thickened Bars
By Talin Mari

These thickened bars enclose my dreams,
Haunting me as I stare at their enclosure.
What fear is it that I must try to overcome?
Why do I feel apprehensive to break free?

These thickened bars hide my true being,
Masking me of my desired future passion.
What transformation must I still undergo?
Why do I want to hide and stay concealed?

These thickened bars are my true enemies,
Restraining me from believing in my abilities.
What have I done to create these rigid bars?
Why do I not choose to simply shatter them?

Confessions of a Reader


A beautiful poem I wrote for the book lover in all of us….

Butterfly Books

Confessions of a Reader

by Talin Mari

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you a million times.

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you without your rhymes.

Why is it that I can’t seem to stop reading you?

Why is it that all I want is to keep you to myself?

Why should I share you if I bask in my selfishness?

Why should I let you leave the warmth of my hands?

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you when I was alone.

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you when I needed a friend.

You helped accompany me when I was deserted.

You helped occupy my time when it felt endless.

You saved me from drowning in my hopeless tears.

You saved me from dreaming away all those years.

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you to revive my soul.

I’ve read you,

I’ve read you to show me the world….

The End

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Young Lady – Poetry


Young Lady
By Talin Mari

In the distance, next to the tree,
I found a young girl with dreams.
She sat there, playing with dolls,
Not trying to unearth their faults.

Her timid innocence, enchanting,
Her quiet laughter, overpowering,
Her joyful playfulness, energizing.

In the distance, next to the tree,
There was a young girl, now a lady,
She sits there today, reading a story,
With pages guiding her past history.

Her volcanic spirit, constrained,
Her vibrant laughter, silenced,
Her lively playfulness, subdued.

In the distance, next to the tree,
There sat a young girl and a lady,
Not sitting, but dancing happily,
She discovered her inner beauty.

The End

Poetry of the Heart – Breaking the Path


Breaking the Path
By Talin Mari

Help me from this prison I have created,
My rock is beginning to crumble.
Help me gain the courage to find myself,
My guards no longer protect me.
Help me relive the hope that once existed,
My vision is clear, not blurred.

The path is only a road that I take,
My guide is my will.
The prison that I will consummate,
My heart beats still.

Help me,
My rock.
Help me,
My guards,
Help me,
My vision,
The path,
My guide,
The prison,
My heart.
My path,
My vision,
My heart.

Poetry, My Muse – Feeling Your Writing


Many times, it can be hard to focus my energy on writing. With all the distractions in any given day, how can it be possible to sit at a desk and type? It can become restrictive at times and, undeniably, unproductive. I found that writing poetry has been my greatest tool to keep me focused. It helps me feel my story and my characters. It is my muse as I describe in my poem below.

Poetry, My Muse
By Talin Mari

If poetry is my muse,
My pen is my guide,
My heart is the story,
My pain is the plot.

If poetry is my muse,
Characters live in dreams,
Mystical worlds appear,
Creativity meets reality.

If poetry is my muse,
Love stories are imagined,
Abuse is violently dreaded,
Kindness is only rewarded.

If poetry is my muse,
My words become stories,
My thoughts become real,
My feelings become people.