cheerful-little-bean - Tumblr blog

[cheerful-little-bean]

“i genuinely fell for someone when i wasn’t searching for love, i was searching for peace. i was searching for myself and found a friend, who became the love of my life. sometimes you need to focus on growing yourself and run into what’s destined for you.”

- unknown

[cheerful-little-bean]

confess

the subtle touches here and there

both of us pretending we didn’t notice,

i know how i feel for you

and yet i can only pray you feel the same,

i dove so deep without care

i just hope i haven’t fallen alone,

and i think i might be the first to break

i just keep hoping you’ll do it first,

but either way when the moment comes

you’ll know what i’ve hidden within me.

-𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑦 𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟

[cheerful-little-bean]

in love

to be in love, i never thought it’d happen to me. but here i am, falling without care. he helps bring out the best in me, and i him. now i know what it feels to hold someone dear, and to never want to let go.

-𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑦 𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟

[cheerful-little-bean]

soulmate?

i was intrigued from day one,

however you managed to do so i’ll never know–

since then our talks have occurred more and more often,

not that i’ll complain–

i knew i fell that night in the church van,

remember? my head on your shoulder and yours on mine–

the more i learn the farther i fall,

i know it sounds cliche but it’s true–

i also know it wasn’t supposed to happen,

you weren’t supposed to be the one–

but here you are,

and i don’t think i’m going to deny it any longer.

-𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑦 𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: glitter

fairy dust and pixies,

a wizard’s wand and fairytales,

glass slippers and golden eggs,

things only a story could give—

oh how i miss the days we believed

that all that shined

was laced with magic—

yet as the saying goes

“not all that glitters is gold”,

i suppose stories suffer the same fate—

we grow up

and we find out

what those stupid stories were talking about—

otherworldly creatures

and casted spells,

true loves kiss

or a fairy godmother—

it’s all a fantasy,

something to preserve

the purest childhood hope—

but somewhere along the path

we still turn out to lose it—

it’s a pity really,

that we don’t hope like we used to,

but one day, let’s hope, reality will be as nice

as all of the old fantasies.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: if

if i found the way

into my dreams,

would it truly be happy—

if i found a path

through all my life,

would it bring me the peace i need—

if i found the truth,

would it build be up

like i always thought would—

if my poems’ verses

flow into song,

will i finally meet my goal—

but if i found a way

into my dreams,

would i see

you?

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: movement

poetry isn’t confined to one definition,

just like singing isn’t confined to one note,

and painting is confined to one color—

it doesn’t matter if the poem consists

of ten words

or even ten thousand—

it doesn’t matter if it

consists of happy or sad

verses—

for there is no meaning,

no definition,

of what it should be—

ink spilled into words

forming lines into stanzas

that speak the depth of a poet’s soul—

that was poetry’s intention,

to reflect the movements

of human emotion.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.”

~ John Joseph Powell, The Secret of Staying in Love

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: hell may be empty

hell may be empty,

but i see no devils here—

hell may be empty,

but i’m the only devil that i see—

hell may be empty,

honey, don’t be scared—

hell may be empty,

except for you and me.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

“Brave soul, don’t forget that you have survived every onslaught of darkness and fought through hell to get here. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

— The Better Man Project

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: the great “what-if”

i suppose it’s always been you,

through my heaven and hell,

you were the person left standing—

i might as well have been a blind man

wandering aimlessly through the day

even though you,

my sun,

lit my way—

and i no longer know how to tell you,

for you’ve seen me filter through people

like it’s some game of who i’ll find—

but for years you were still the one

i looked to,

for years you were the person

i talked to when my mind felt heavy—

you would pick the weight up off my chest

and carry it onto yours,

and i apologize

if i ever became your burden—

i regret never telling you,

because now tears fill my eyes

when i think of the possibilities—

maybe we could’ve been those things

we thought we could only

paint on canvases

and write into poetry—

my dear, i’m sorry,

i’m not the one who

will make you tea in the early mornings—

i’m not the one you’ll

count stars with

till you see the sun

over the horizon—

but how i wish i said something sooner,

maybe i would’ve been yours,

but now i must live with the regrets

of the great “what-if”.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍

𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥

-𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘺 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 04.26.2021

[cheerful-little-bean]

I could have sworn I heard voices.

Now I think it was ever only yours.

- [i.r.]

[04.24.21.]

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: dry

i’ve said it once,

so i say it twice,

but after a while

i get repetitive—

poems only hold so many words

in the short stanzas

of which they are composed—

and we go through

hundreds of notebooks

looking for our nest writing—

but there is no best,

no expectation,

we are all pawns

in a game of chess—

i’ll write till i win this game,

yet i always seem to be losing,

but i’ll write

till i win.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: the sun

he’s the sun

that shines to your beauty,

making you shine like the sun itself—

and i’m just your shadow,

and sometimes i’ll fade,

but i’ll always return—

i won’t only return on your sunny days,

you can find me between

the clouds and rain—

he may be the sun,

but i am forever the shadow—

he will go down

by the end of the day,

and maybe i might fade—

but the moon will rise and shine on you,

an ethereal being that galaxies envy,

and i will appear once again—

for i am your shadow,

my dear,

and i will always be here in the shadows.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: we are here

we are here

to heal ourselves,

for we were broken when we were born—

and when we heal,

we have a new meaning,

a new chapter

that begins unfolding—

we are here

to be with others,

with our 7 billion partners—

none of us asked to be here,

but the cards were shuffled

and God chose us—

we are here

for each other,

to work in unison—

and my dears,

i love you,

for you are my apart of my story.

-j.g. edge

[cheerful-little-bean]

poem: hold my hand

hold my hand,

through heaven

or through hell—

may it be mine or yours,

let’s fight these demons

with the power of our swords—

we’re two of the same,

living in a place that spins endlessly,

yet the world slows microscopically

when you look into my eyes—

Shakespeare himself must turn in his grave

when he views our new form

of a romantic tragedy—

we may not die like

Romeo and Juliet,

but dying is an art my dear,

and our blood with flow over this canvas

we call Earth.

-j.g. edge