Showing posts from 2017


Listen to the hush
behind the
within your head.

The peace.
Stop wishing you were

The voices that are calling,
your name,
Serve only to fill the
and play a ruthless

You are worth
Than that voice will
Let you
Just look at
all you've accomplished
ALL that you could be.

Listen to that
when the beast
inside is
The hush is a place
to build upon

By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

The Dress

My blue dress blows through wildflower fields,
  Kissing petal tips
    collecting pollen dust.
I spread my arms wide
Oh sunshine, make me warm again
wrapped up in

My blue cotton dress.

The white hem of my blue dress
  is made of the finest lace
and there, along a picot edge, is
         single    loose  
It catches
On wildflower stems and petal tips and
the lace
   u  n  r  a  v  e  l

My blue cotton dress.

I had hoped to dance all day and
    into the
    night        in my little blue dress;
but now it is
   ruined and
am I        ?
A single fickle thread has undone the
prettiest bits of

My blue cotton dress.

I won't dance any more. Not just yet.
I'll just lay down
   right  here
in this wildflower field         in my imperfect blue dress
and rest
            just for a whi…

Refrigerator Poetry Again



Today the world is a dark and dreary place.
Well not today, but perhaps just tonight.
I am overwhelmed, over stressed, and over tired.
I am under the weather, under appreciated, and misunderstood.
What I really want is to say goodbye
But I say hello instead.

Sometimes I am tired of living in a world where friendship means acquaintance;
Where favours are expected and demanded;
Where desperation isn't convenient - so suck it up;
Where difficulty coping translates to defeat;
Where insults are hurled when love would suffice;
Where love and understanding are replaced with text messages and emojis;
Where "I need you" gets a "it's too busy / too late / I'm too tired / well too bad".
Where supporting one another is a laughable past time.

Tonight, in this nightmare come to life,
I am reminded of my every failure and my every shortcoming.
"You're too emotional / too loud / in too much of a rush.
I feel less than adequate, below average, and an abysmal …

Invisible Visible

 A little while ago I watched a video of Prince Harry discussing mental health and the invisible wounds we carry in our hearts. That coupled with my own experiences, inspired this new poem. 

Invisible Visible

I wear these hidden wounds
Like battle scars across my chest.
Emblazoned with a smile,
Punctuated with dry tears
    You can't see.

My heart is blistered,
Burned by the every day
Ordinary happenings;
Things you'd never get
    And can't feel.

All those events of
Long ago and yesterday
Replay like old records;
Played by a broken needle
    You can't fix.

I'm weary and aching
From holding it all together,
From picking up the pieces
Of this lonely broken soul
    I can't put back together


Bleeding hearts are bleeding
Nonetheless. Wounded minds
Broken by the ordinary...
And the extraordinary;
    Can be mended.
    Can be lifted.

If only I could let you in.

By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

RESHARE: What I'd Miss - A Simple Reminder When I needed it most.

I wrote this one AGES ago, but revisited it recently to make some minor edits and repost it. In making those grammatical edits I was reminded of how often I read this poem in my darkest hours. Some of you may know (others most definitely do not), but there was a period of my life when things were looking pretty grim and I wasn't sure I could go on.  Although I didn't realize it at the time, this poem kept me grounded and reminded me why I needed to hold on; even for just one more day.

I Can't Go Yet

I will miss the smell of my daughter’s hair,
    And the way she always smells like washing powder and little girl fun. I will miss my son's squeezes,
    And the way he curls in my lap and wraps his arms around my neck like he'll never let me go. 
I will miss the feel of cold cotton sheets
    When I climb in to bed and the way the wind blows the curtains in the bedroom. 
I will miss the creek of the hardwood floors in the hall
     And the sound of closing doors.
I will mi…

Crowded Alone

You make me feel completely discombobulated;
Like I'm something I am
    most definitely not.
Around you I feel frigid, chilled, ice cold to the bone.
But clearly this sweat
    tells me I'm hot.

With you in this room I feel confined and contained;
Like I'm a prisoner
    with something to hide.
Sitting near you makes my stomach lurch nauseated;
Like I'm riding the rails,
    yet I'm not on a ride.

Your eyes make me question my personal identity;
Who I thought I was, and am, are
    no longer set in stone.
Standing in this crowded room I feel desolate;
Like a life boat cast out to sea,
    utterly and completely alone.

You are my nemesis disguised as my devoted ally;
Like a monster masked by
    the face of a friend.
You offer new beginnings, olive branches, and cures,
But all you truly dish out is a
    shortcut to the end.

By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

Call Out

* A quick little something I wrote while cruising along the 401 with my hubby today.  This one will need a bit of fine tuning, I think. Feel free to leave a comment; I'd love to hear your thoughts. 

Call Out 

Whisper to me
    through the noise.
Across the distance
   send your voice.

Call out to me
    and sing me home.
You've won my heart
    It's yours alone.

You are my shade
    and my summer sun,
You're my grown up sadness
    And my childhood fun.

You bring me back
    when I drift away.
Your voice calls to me
    reminds me to stay.

Whisper to me
    through the noise.
Across the distance
   send your voice.

By: T.J Ruberto (c) 2017

Concrete Poetry - Knitting Saved My Life


Stuck On Poetry: Linger


Stuck On Poetry: Blaze