~She Burns~

~She Burns~

She burned herself into a splendor,
nothing gained and nothing hindered.
Now all of her secrets bare,
was an omen she knew to share,
but still it froze her thoughts.
With openness can all be lost?
She writhed and tossed,
the wind tore through
with raging ice
it blew and blew.
To shield herself,
her soul she dressed,
she built her walls
to match the test.
She covered them with gold and steel
and chained them down with all her fears.
So there she sat within her nest
And really it was for the best...
until she felt the walls held her down
pushing her into the ground.
A private prisoner she was again
being tricked by fear and pain.
She would not fight to escape,
she knew only to sit and wait.
Blankness was the staircase
that she climbed to melt the mold.
With doubt no longer a fortress,
the wisdom was hers to hold.
No death, no fear,
no pain, no threat,
Simplicity at it's very best.
With embers grows a lasting spark
as flames lit up and soothed her heart.

By me, Windy Lisardo
April 26, 1998

This poem is about over coming fears.
With fears, people tend to build walls up to protect themselves but if we just set it go, let go of the fear and not let it rule our lives, then we are free to live and free to be.

Road Of The Dead

Road Of the Dead

Loneliness is a long road,
Where emptiness has traveled
To look ahead into nothingness
As the bumpy road unravels.
The fear of lifting eyes of sight
Shifting to a blank stare,
Of hallowed dreams that you once had
Now looking back it's hard to bare.
Casting a glance over your shoulder,
The shadows that won't die,
Where darkness meets the darkness
And every words a lie.
Swallowing the moments
Of times you should have cried
And saving all the moments
When you'd last seen a smile.
The swirling colors of the Mind
Have Turned to black and white
And the grayness that surrounds your heart
Is twisting you inside.
Looking down upon your feet
Your heart sinks even lower
and all the fear you've felt inside
Melts into the deepest sorrow.
Taking another lonely step
up to the road ahead
then turning your back on the darkened future
as you veer off the road of the dead.

By Windy Lisardo
June 10, 1994
Age 18

Natural Man

Once upon a time
in a land called Lily Rock,
there lived a free spirited hippie,
clothed in tye dye and birkenstocks.
He lives amoungst the wild
in a cabin made of pine
and baths every day
in a water fall
that makes him feel divine.
The animals are his true best friends,
he knows every birdies song,
and he smokes the finest weed,
in his perfect home made bong.
He praises each day that he lives,
he dances in the sun,
and when the sun goes down each day,
a new dance has begun.
When the stars arch in the sky
a night temple is born
so he quiets down his soul
and meditates til he's soarin'.
He lives each day to the fullest,
with the Earths nature
he's made his home.
He never wastes a moment,
and he never feels alone.

You might just catch his vibe sometime,
or a vision of him between the tree's
or spy him laying in a flowery field,
talking sweet to honey bees.
He's the kindest kind of man to know,
wouldn't even hurt a fly,
but be slow to approach him
because he's just a little shy.

By Windy Lisardo
May 15, 2000

I've been finding a bunch of my old poems so I thought I would share....

The Wind has a purpose.

1/9/03

Whenever the wind blows,
Where ever it will
though the leaves might be flying
and the water not still
it may gnaw at your hair
and whip at your face
but it blows with a reason.
Everything has its place.
The wind has a purpose.
For it gathers up seeds
dropping them to take root
in places unseen.
There new life grows,
blooming with grand design
sewing itself
with the seeds of time.
So as the story goes
the wind blows
where ever it will
the wind has a purpose
forever and still.

By Windy Lisardo

Just a Dream or Not?

JUST A DREAM OR NOT?


I walked into my dreams one night
My body lay asleep
My soul drifted in a land
Of nothing incomplete

With the Earth I shared my heartbeat
It echoed with the sound
Of distant music in the air
With words I can't pronounce.

I picked a rose right from a cloud
Then walked to a nearby stream
I dipped the rose into its waters
And suddenly grew wings.

The rose I had which once was red
Had suddenly turned gold
And all the magic that I felt
I suddenly could hold.

I gently flew into a sky
With a dozen shooting stars
And a majesty of rainbows
That stretched all the way to Mars.

I flew over to a rainbow
And sat down on a cloud chair
Where fairies danced and sang to me
And put flowers in my hair.

Seven turtle doves flew by
And I was motioned to follow
They led me to my body
Which somehow looked so hollow.

I knew that I just had to go back
It was where I belonged
But I vowed never to forget this place
And not stay away too long.

The rose I held against my heart
As I sank into my body
And felt a common security
That lay at rest upon me.

I woke to find it all in my mind
I hadn't gone anywhere
But then I realized against my heart
The rose still rested there.



Windy Lisardo


9/9/1993

Last Dance

Last Dance

When the summer wind blew across the sea
Whispered secrets came calling to me.
The sky was full and the stars were bright
Because there was no moon to shine its light.
The spirits danced across the waves
And played upon the sand
A shadowed smile whispered to me as I took his spirit hand.
A mystical lullaby was sung on a breeze
As I danced with the spirits the crashing waves tease.
Onward I danced through the hours of time
Knowing their magic was soon to be mine.
I am danced into the waters
My life’s end becomes clear
But no worries are upon me
I shed not a single tear.
In the tide came as the morning drew near
Little by little the stars disappeared.
I was lifted to beyond the sea
As my last breath was taken
My body floated with ease.
The first beams of light turn my body to sand
As the waves took it in like a welcoming hand.
My soul took on light with no regrets
Let the past live as my body rests.
An old part of me became part of the earth
Another cycle began
Like a golden new birth.

By Windy Lisardo
Feb. 26, 1994






I wrote this poem when I was 18 and still in high school.
In most cases with writing, words like this just flow out of me. Its almost as if they come from somewhere else. I can't stop the words and I must write it down. I am pulled to do so. In most cases I end up with something like this. Later, I read this poem at my Grandmothers funeral.

PS. I usually write at night.
PPS. Photography also by me, Windy Lisardo

Praise

Please let the ground be solid today
to support my weary feet
as I face those hollowed eyes
in the over crowded streets.
Please let the sky be blue today
so when I cast my eyes
I can praise its vastness
and in it my soul will fly.
Let us not expect people
to be more than who they are,
only expectations of ones self
is what will take you far.
So today I praise the ground
today I praise the sky,
today I praise myself
and each day that I survive.
Most of all I praise the Heavens
and Gods wisdom that does shine.
Today I praise the blessings
of this world that is divine.

By me Windy Lisardo
Sometime at the end of 2000