3 poems by Pasithea Chan : Fist in the Mist, Frozen Smiles & Melting Moons and Threading Stars

Moon, Night, Sky, Full Moon
Frozen Smiles

It took a while for me to learn to smile
from behind a pile of words I kept to myself.
For a moment, I felt them jammed
in my mind's cramped space.

My anger seared my soul waiting to be freed
But I weighed my chances against my defenses
And realized it was a fleeting moment not meant
to last as walked past times I had passed.

It takes a lot to smile when feelings pile
from a heart unto a mind put on a shelf
without feeling trapped or slapped
with a reality making a case go on for days.

But once my heart agreed my mind was freed
from hurt's trenches climbing reason's branches.
I learnt to smile without being bent -
over a past that won't last beyond shadows it cast.

This goes to say it takes a while to file
tone's claws without losing one's self
in cramped spaces from situations based
on erasure when a frozen smile can erase words that debase.

Fist in the Mist

I put my fist into the mist -
and carved a curved sunset's spine.
I aimed high, & bled it dry, across the sky;
like rain blows rainbows across ocean so divine.
It spiraled a crescent ring and pushed -
my soul behind my mind hoping to be whole.

I stepped into the mist to catch what I missed.
But I only watched my heart dart as it chased lonely
thoughts like rain drops falling on time's coats;
bouncing off worries' bejeweled pleats.
I scurried hurt's seams with my dreams -
but it seems what's meant to be must first be free!

Fist or foot, mist or missed are like the sun and sunset.
You can be light and travel the world -
or light your path to create your own world.
Walk or punch your way, but remember
to free yourself from what you miss or think you missed.
Don't stay in the mist but don't forget the sun sets.

Melting Moons and Threading Stars

Thoughts are honeycomb moons
surrounded by passion's stars.
Together they hang in inspiration's
skies threaded by hope's cables.

Minds are painters with ladders
anchored on will's winds.
They paint magenta over black skies
or pale blue over white clouds.

Some painters dab their brushes
in magenta skies other in clouds.
Others spread the spread honey combs
across these skies and clouds.

Many chase the brightest stars
until their moons melt away.
Very few capture the honeycombs
before they fade using starry threads.

I've seen some walk their ladders
across magenta skies with tries.
While others get blown like posters
by blue clouds blocking the moon.

It takes courage to put up a ladder;
determination to hold a ladder;
trust to chase the moon,
and faith to thread stars.

Wolfpack Contributor Bio: Pasithea Chan

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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