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 1        

time fails to stop
off the planet i may
drop.

More featured poems below...


                                                         We Are

                                                   Victims of Time.
                                             Degenerates of Distance.
                                                 Skeptics of Love.
My father recalls to me stories of his past,
gripping his fists tightly
as his faces turns gray
telling me, 
“Son it was a dark time for Lebanon”


Anxiously I continue listening 
spilling his inner suppressed memories 
“15 years… 15 years of blood and hate”


Buildings that once stood graciously in the sky
punctured by the bullets that continuously danced in midair 
Streets that were once filled with jubilant people 
now only hosted lifeless cold corpses


Men grew absent from their families
forcing women to carry lethal arms to shield their broods 
with their fingers embedded on the trigger
Lurking from street to street
in a scavenger’s hunt for vital necessities    


The excruciating smell of rot at sunrise
a mixture of decomposing human flesh and garbage 
Flooded the streets 
an endless totality of discarded wastes


After the sun departs 
the stagnant stars appear 
not a clatter can be heard on the tranquil streets


Sympathetically reaching out to my father,
removing him from the ominous nightmare he re-erected,
holding his trembling hands firmly
as I bring him to the reality of the passive present 


An ogling of her scent, befuddling,
The sight of her voice, quite troubling;
The sound her eyes make, leaves me perplexed,
Her mythical touch left me vexed;
Her skillful beauty, stunning any day,
When I sensed her, it was not in the normal way;
To describe her, simply impossible,
Too many great qualities, solely irristible;
There are no sketches as lovey to illustrate,
The celebrated features, she holds innate.

9-5-13
Two windows closing little by little
Brittle materials be blamed for weakness
Buzz might break them off, possibly wiggle
Prolonging the boredom of her highness.
Can’t wait for blackout; freedom can be found
Ironic how simple bliss may come in
Murmur of the wind is an intense sound
This topsy-turvy world causes no grin.
Perhaps her highness craves a sweet winter
Double expectations must not be failed
Melted creation will disappoint her
Still, being anywhere but here is hailed.
That’s it for today; tomorrow again
Just hold on; she’ll close the windows by then.
Placid icy waters flow
Rhythmically laps the shore
Knitting icy lace
Therapy
You grow eager to help the weak growing high off seeing their pleasing effort of your work and embracement. Doing drill after drill eventually becomes troubling and to some may seem dumb, but with the effort you will make it through lives maze not coming to crumble. So, all I can say, is pray your therapy gives you and others the encouragement to survive the twisting life lines and doubts.  Having the help gives us the power to show and prove what counts and what can come out of therapy. The beauty will show at St. Joes as the workers help the weak and the patients come to revive. 

By: Reggie Guerrero
pick-pocketing prayers from pious pioneers who pillage and plunder pagans of peace and particular pantheon. 
Pale-faced paladins pass out propaganda pamphlets instilling paranoia and paralysis. Predators behind palisades turn peasant to prey with placebos of purpose, manipulating perception and parodies of patriotism.
Pity the poor people who paint pictures of personal plight with poetry. 
Pandemic of pathetic parasites exposed, virtuous patient path can prove perilous. Perhaps the panacea of power corrupted points to pacifism. 
Petty perpetual pickpockets taste prosperity
Strength and dignity are her clothing
Her motto is rejoicing
Her position is strong and secure
over the unknown future
having not a picture
She trusts wholeheartedly the I AM
The only man who ever loved her unconditionally
with or without make-up, hair do or even Botox
She opens her mouth in skilfulness
On her tongue is the law of kindness
To most individuals she is viewed as madness
For they fail to understand, how one becomes so perfect
without having to say a word yet all is an act
Well! Matthew 5:48 replies on her behalf
mmhhm! and I in confusion of choosing Virtue or Beauty!?
Along comes a woman,10 feet tall matching her long blonde hair
not to mention her smashing red glossy lips
She have been told chin up, chest out
and walk like you own the world
A queen she is, new shoe is an obsession
designed closet and her are like cohesion
Every girl wants to be like her
While every man wants her
but they knowing not;
Ms Knowles said it all "pretty hurts"
As blonde, thinner and taller as she is,
yet still that is not enough according to her
"Mirror, Mirror on the wall", she asks
envy hits her hard in discovery of the snow white
but this time the snow-white is proverbs 31 woman
having to realise she cant fix what she can see
for its the soul that needs surgery
confused am no more, am aware its better to be unseen 
as long as one knows her value and worth
....being a woman of virtue
31 status woman
whom fearing of the lord
comes before herself
As I enter the woods for a walk on a path walked by many
I see that the trees create an overhead canopy
With small streak of light filtering through the canopy
Squirrels scampering up and down the trees
Birds chirping and singing in perfect harmony
Toads blending into their surrounding
Frogs croaking on lily pads in the nearby pond
Balsam trees giving off their fresh scent of pine
My eyes can't believe the beautiful sights and sounds heard as I leave
Thinking what a wonderful walk in the woods I had 



 
 
O stony plant submerged in ice tobacco , oh azure tree wrapped by waterfalls of Mashu Mountain, where the secret springs of the universe, and a whop in sun flags , loving a dust of a brown town misted by the breeze.
From there, from your leafy spirit , you overlook on us, O Iraq, by your white wings. presents the earth a tale light, colored by a shawl of a girl, gathering of the date from her small garden.
I'm never surprise by those gases, and those distances that crossed by knees of bare feet. I do not wonder by the death and hope and time smiles falling in you hall as a wax images.

Yes, thus, the mightiness of waste earth bends, and it is nonsense in the empty chest , towards the effects of your old glitter,  towards the boughs of the carnelian, where the scorpion man irrigates them with silver water.
Thus . you draw me a brown bird, and you give me a coppery kiss, so I fly in you as spatial vehicle, which saw a new face of the moon.

Did not teach me your brown summer reading the dew? Did not your hot sands slapped my face ? Did not Holy Euphrates my bright dream angles ? So I became ringworm, pigeon , and a bitter voice of light lavaliere. 


I'm inside ride of happiness, an sadness.
I love you so much. but now I know that weren't met to be.
You said once you don't meat your soul-mate so young.
But we believe at 19 years that we do.  How do you know when 
it's your soul-mate. 

Do you feel the love inside.
I ended up pregnant so young. 
that didn't go so good. Our wedding
you told me that I won't leave you.
that didn't turn our good
Because we both broke those vows to each other. 

I sometimes wonder when we still hang out
with our friends do we love each other?
I know in way that I love you but we argued so
much that told me the last time
I can't argue with you my love.
We shouldn't be together  and go our separate ways.

you wouldn't sign our divorce papers.
We argued over those.
Everything we argued over.

When I came back home I expected you to be married and with kids.
that are beautiful and good carrere. you would of made good father.
Your new wife would of been beautiful and made you feel good
about yourself better than I could. 
I sometimes wonder if we could of made it work for each other.
A veil of smoke can tie a knot
Around each mote
I cannot mask the wind
Just like the mote cannot be tied and twinned
I am soaked in a dense haar
Blindly following the sound of the guitar
But in the day I have to face the dark
When you feel guilty and say ‘I lied’
Made efforts but cant stop the emotions of a misty-eyed
A glass covered with murk and steam
Give it heat, it will fly away flapping its invisible wings
Give it an ice rind, it will make the glass its domain in-situ
Like a diamond precious ring
This world is full of illusions
Every real thing is a fusion
Try to rub the haze of life
It will show you the existence of soul in  your  eyes
LIFE

Life is just a journey
Yet it differs from the others;
Once begun
You can’t turn back
To start anew.
You only need straightening out 
The things you have messed up.


So we should be careful
With it
For we’ll never have 
A new beginning
Until we reach the end.
I miss you.
I wish you knew
That even though you're not loud,
It's you I'm looking for in the crowd.
Your smile could make my day
Even when I had nothing to say.
The one person I looked forward to talking to
Was always you.
And now that you're gone
I stay up till dawn
Searching to find what I did wrong.
I can't always be so strong.
I replay every conversation in my mind.
How could I have been so blind?
Now I know you never cared.
And I am left alone and scared.
Oh I wish you knew
I miss you.


 1