Together But Not

This is how it always was

Romanticizing over bite-sized pieces

of ordinarily inadequate seeming subjects

Seething upon moments

Instantly entertaining the idea

of temporarily a "you" and "me" together

Together...

~Tina Meeks

A Nuisance to the Night

I would cheers to all the new beginnings

and often to petty seeming occasions 

So, a toast to the first time riding the 49

Toast to matching socks again

To the stranger sleeping on the bench in the morning

Cheers to my falling apart notebook

being held together by packing tape

I wanna know what you cheers to

so I can fall asleep thinking about it

So we can run into the misted night

among swarming owls

We can demand salvation and 

young independence we never thought we had

In the end, we all smile anyway

We can laugh, catch our breath,

and remain a nuisance to the night

that we never want to end

A Writer's Pep Talk

As a writer, I think we all inspire. Sometimes, the more you read, the better the writing.
Six years ago, I was afraid to share my best work out of fear of thievery. An old friend expressed to me how wrong I might- probably was.

Throughout the entirely universe, everything is recycled, and I'm sure this is not the first time this was ever thought up. To fellow writers: Fear not
Pause never, except to breathe. Accept to breathe. The breath is what is keeping us humble so I, can less of the time stumble over my unfinished thoughts. There's nothing invalid about being aware of ones surroundings. On the flip side, zoning into a private world to allow for a space like this is the most important- the most vulnerable thing that we as writers do. To unlock a door to allow the relishing in this pleasurable piece of the puzzle without edges, no walls, no frame. I have to remind myself that it's okay to say the same thing more than once. It ain't redundant, but a friendly reminder of the importance of this.

This is a practice and it's the only way to get better. To not lose it, rather. Perhaps some words and phrases will feel right one moment and the next, only a cliche' followed by a scoff. As a writer, it's a continuous tug-a-war to admire each other, self-critique, to remain open to sharing, and most importantly, to never run out of pages.

~Tina Meeks

Weird Word Play With Some of My Youthful Favorite Metal Bands

I am livid

I am terrified and angry

I am dramatically insipid 

and trippin' on my own words

I'm Disturbed

Freshly purged 

of brain cells and epiphanies 

Tomorrow will be Sevenfold

help up by a Slipknot

That is All That Remains

and comprehensible 

if you try not to pay attention

~Tina Meeks

East Coast Waters

East Coast waters,
he's got in his blood

but don't got 

bloodstained fingers with that cocky smile teeth spot 

Crooked

Just like perfect replications of sin

Blame the guardians for having

a bruised ego at both ends

But some ladies like cocky

and he'll take as many as he can get,

and why stop there?

When the ladies get boring,

move on to the men

There's a little head game for them

and this one will keep a spare in his pocket

When you can't get something harder,

purple haze is the only option

Little do these boys know,

they're just another addition to the collection

~Tina Meeks

Samuel P. Taylor

Samuel P. Taylor.... Dust rises from what was not a fall, but from a popularity contest.

When the sound of running water is prevalent, Samuel P. comes to mind. The only drama there is what inches of water get to bounce off the rocks first, even though it all gets a turn. There's something about the red woods that manipulates the world into something gorgeous again. The trees are as tall as gods, they'll make you believe anything because they've achieved such heights and go to such lengths to maintain the perfect ecosystem for all of the entities around. 

Thinking of Samuel P. is one of the easiest ways to calm down because even though that place burned partially in wild fires, it never lost its resilience. We are mere beings that take for our selfish selves and here is a place that contributes unspeakable amounts that have hardly been thanked for.

Samuel P. Taylor ascends over its own hills, though trails, beyond the sparks of campfires. And what ever salmon has the audacity and desire to flea down stream during high tide, I hope they know, they are all so also part of something sacred.

~Tina Meeks

You Know What You Are

Your home is a flowered mandala 

layered in color that is impressive

There are many stories up your sleeves,

I'm sure of it

The music through time that you've heard

The transformation of

what color can really mean

is an impeccable memory you have

for the rest of your life

So please, keep going

in your fluorescence and glow,

and your deep rooted darkness

~Tina Meeks