Biography
I'm a former news reporter and self-published poet. I self-published two prose poetry collections, Silent Dreams and Tears of Sand, and when I am not writing poetry, I write short stories, lyrics, and screenplays.
Samples
Remains of dreams
cling to me
as my body begs to sleep more,
but my thoughts are entangled,
a spider-web across my eyes.
Weaving slowly in
the rhthym of my beating heart,
my thoughts etch across the void,
where the gentle touch of sleep once waited,
and a distant urge to close my eyes
is answered by staring into nothing.
No sleep tonight.
Flickers of faint glimpses of dreams
pierce the black
as my thoughts continue to walk
the worn path in my mind,
thinking as always
of how to release my dreams inside.
Barefoot
by, Melissa R. Mendelson
If all I kept inside
were to pour out,
then the storm raging outside
would be the reflection
of what I keep,
and my tears would never stop.
The streets would flood.
The skies would be forever gray.
The sun would be nothing but a memory.
What I keep inside
are painted pictures
of a life lived along the broken road,
but these days,
I find that road unbroken.
So, why open my heart
and spill my tears out
when the sun might finally
shine down on me?
Under Sun
by, Melissa R. Mendelson
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Last blog entry
Posted on Monday 10th November 2008 6:04 pm
The heart of our spirit
travels across
the thin line of life.
Words echo in static,
and music feeds the soul.
We are hurting.
Some wander lost.
Hope finds a few.
The heart within
struggles with the burden
of a world divided,
a world trying to stand.
We are here.
We are calling.
Can no one hear us?
Are the winds of change coming?
Has war left history's pages torn?
What next chapter awaits
behind the red curtain
of a new year
waiting to rise?
How will I see this year end?
So many questions fumble over the other.
So much uncertainty fills the air.
Are we lost,
or am I the only one
that walks in the dark?
My heart cries out
across the void,
across this thin line
called life.
Can you feel me?
Feel
by, Melissa R. Mendelson
Previous: Midnight
View or make comments. (3 comments)
Janet Ramsden
Wed 29th Oct 2008 22:57
Hi Melissa,
Thankyou very much for your comment on my poem "Rapture."
It's just a shame it's wasted.xx