One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eye'd,
Such seems your beauty still.
~ William Shakespeare
I have looked into the mirror
Looking for a trace....a trace of my youth
A trace of the girl that I used to be...
Is she there? Buried deep? Is she still part of me?
Years can't be halted, change can't erase..
And there...in my face, are the lines of experience
Stories and time...I see staring back at me
A part of me wants to grieve for that girl
The girl that I was.. Has she vanished for good?
Oh, I do understand....
That I can't hang on to "then"..
To days long ago, when time was our friend
When summers, together, seemed never to end
But, then............ , here by chance, we meet up once again.....
Our friendship born in childhood..so young, and carefree
You...with bright eyes, and brown hair that fell long
Around your high cheeks ...and a wide, gamin smile!
You were the one who's light shined so brightly
Who's charm, laugh, and wisdom I fondly admired
A girlhood where we danced together in sweet grass under sunny skies
And under nighttime stadium lights, to the music of the high school band
After years, that have taken us to separate worlds
In my mind, and in my dreams you have always been
The fair maiden, the one who held my hand
Two girls who made promises...who sat in the dark, under a summer sky
And talked of our "somedays", of our future, our hopes
By the light of the moon, we wished upon the stars
Now here in this moment, I have found you again
And here in this moment, I have found "me" again....
I can be that girl again....as we share our history
our moment in the sun, ....I am "her", again!..
I can be that child, I can be fifteen, I can wear a crown, upon a teenaged throne...
And I can still dance to the sound of the drum, and the tuba,
I can sing football songs, and gossip about the boys,
and make fun of the stuck-up girls
and laugh about the teachers we didn't like,
and about the night of the prom, when I cried in your arms
I can hear Johnny Mathis singing "Misty", and the words will make me weep
I can hear "Canadian Sunset" as it lulls me off to sleep
Perhaps the stars have faded a bit...but beyond the weary miles
They still shine when I look into your eyes...my dear friend, from the past...
They will shine through the ages.........where a summer will always last....
For Frank's Contest:
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 In Death Of A Rose by Nate Spears
Rescue this sunflower
It's capable of being a ray of light
Nurture it, value it, and love it
Its petals are more delicate than they appear in sight
A wild flower it is; but it displays beauty
The facts of its species remain unknown
Its fight to reach its true potential is admired
It’ birth to existence is undetermined
It’s roots shows trauma
Its presentation brings hesitates to potential caregivers
No one's prepared to take a chance
This flower is destined to win
All earthly roots sprout from above
At some point in a life’s span; we could use a kiss or hug
He who refuses to display any element of the wild
Is merely real
An artificial representation of life
Stuck in Styrofoam surrounded by fake moss and dust
No breath, no soul, non-existence
A human being choked from an outer dimension.
Rescue this wild flower with love.
A girl was born a beautiful summer day
She had beautiful blue eyes and light curly hair
The girl ...... it was me myself I
My mother has told me that I was a kind
and happy baby
The baby became a chubby girl who liked to
play with soft teddy bears and dolls
Chaunted and singing all day long,
yes I was a happy little girl
When I was seven years old and the
commitments hour had come
First day at school, dressed in a dress with
flowers and ribbon in my hair
I wanted out of the classroom, I wanted to be
free to play, sing and dance.... be free like a bird
Plus, minus and A-B-C... yes it all could wait
School years passed by and I learned: plus, minus,
A-B-C and more than that
"Almost adult" - a teenager, yes waithing for the time
Girls with menstruation, and acne wich we covered with powder
Boys with pimples, wich reflects like flashlights
Girls who "giggled" of everything and nothing
Boys who speakes with deep voices that bursts
Interested in the opposite sex
It`s was an exciting time ...
Distance love, blushing cheeks
Will you be mine?
Go hand in hand and perhaps a gentle kiss
Heartbreaks....well who has been there ?
But as in a fairytales the princess meets her prince, they are
in love....married... and have many other commitments,
work, home and children
Fairytales have always a happy ending
What about the reality ?
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A Woman’s Worth
By Nate Spears
Her purpose in this world is hurting
She’s never been a designed of perfect
But she is a mom, so she’s super
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
Making it a home
For a beautiful family to roam
Building wonderful memories
Becoming a woman of worth
Keeping her faith through Christ
Keeping her pace through health
Keeping her sanity through managing
This is a woman’s worth
I’m giving you
Despite of all the stress
She receives her family with open arms
Through all the mess
She’s a fantastic mom
A wonderful woman
Deserving a round of applause
Plus a standing ovation
For always being an American sensation
That held this continent down since day one
Since the Plymouth Rock landed on us
Thank you for her giving
Thank you for her living
Thank you for her children
This is ,
A woman’s worth.
Girl Rising Unwanted Child
Since the day of her birth, she was not wanted.
Her mother rejected her. She was brought into
this world by a mid wife. Her mother already had
a lot of kids and didn't want anymore.
The mid wife told her - it's a beautiful little girl. The
mother said - I don't want her. You can keep her.
I don't even want to see her. The mid wife and her
husband adopted her and raised her as their own.
She would be their youngest child. They already had
She was loved from the beginning. They raised her,
send her to school, she graduated and went off to
college. While in collage she fell in love, but her boy
friend jilted her. Her heart was broken, but she still
went on and finished college.
After college - she went to Chicago to live with her
sister. There she met a young man, that liked her from
the start. They met in church. After a year of courtship,
they got married. They had a beautiful wedding.
They both worked hard. This was in the early 80's. They
raised 6 kids. Two are now married. She has a very important
job in a bank. They now own three buildings. She got to meet
her real mother at her mom's funneral. She asked her - why
are you crying? They weren't even your real parents.
She answered - They were the only parents that I ever knew.
She went back to Chicago and never saw her again. She lives
happy with her family. Both her parents that raised her have
now passed away....
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Note: I believe that this is a real success story
of a girl rising. It is true. My husband and I were
sponsers at her Wedding. She is my best friend's baby
sister.... For Richard's contest ( Girl Rising )
My love of poetry started when I was still a five- year old child
When my parents asked me to memorize verses and rhymes
With all my feelings and actions, I recited my poems in front of a crowd
Innocently receiving adulations but not a handful of dime
The first piece I memorized was entitled, “Cradle Hymn”
I was a small girl sent in a poem competition, so naïve
When I’ve grown up , I realized it’s a song lyric with Christmas theme
So, I sang it and started to develop my good voice quite a bit
When I was a teenager, I memorized speech and declamation pieces
My teacher sent me in a poem contest for a campaign against drug addiction
I tried to deliver my piece like a candidate for a star award actress
Acting like a drug addict teenage girl longing for parents’ love and attention
As years went by, I turned out to be quite a flirty lady
With puppy love and sweet crushes to some guys around me
When one of them got me, so happy until I forgot all about reciting poetry
Relationship went long but when we broke up, it created another life’s story
All my heart brokenness has turned me out to be a poem writer
I also wrote few poems for my family, dreams and for close friends’ requests
My passion of poetry blazed and turned out to be greater
When I found a writing spot, motivated and inspired by my friends-the great poets
Feb. 6, 2013
Contest: Who What Where
Sponsor: Poet Carol Sunshine Brown
I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve. A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.
As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.
“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.
“Yeah? Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas. And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”
“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”
“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us. At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”
“Terrific! And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas. And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”
She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her. Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”
It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange. All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen. The old man cracked a little smile. A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you. And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”
The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes. Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place. When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face. She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks. All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.
I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream. Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”
I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.
“Yeah! Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
A lost woman the mirror reflects
Young; and it’s apparent
I can see it in her eyes
No focus and childbearing
Just ass, legs, and thighs in mind
If she knew better
Learned better; and
He would show her a better way of living
Instead of dealing with cowards
Seek a man with moral and merit
He’s stealing your joy
He’s bringing you pain
Removing your youth
He’s playing games
The truth at heart is
Reality should be your first thought
Loneliness is not your fault
It’s a part of life for most
Don’t let it destroy your values
You’ll find a true love to treasure you.
a Pakistani school girl,
was shot in the head
because she wanted an education.
A cowardly brain dead camel humping
moronic rat bastard raghead nazi shot her
for that reason and that reason alone,
she is a female and she wanted
to obtain a decent education
and have a bright future in this
turbulent world in which we live.
Malala lived and is well on her way
to becoming a brilliant young spokeswoman
for the equality of opportunity for
girls and women all over the world.
I pray for her safety and continued success.
And may every warped brainless raghead nazi’s
sorry worthless soul burn in Hell for all eternity.
DON’T BE AFRAID
I live to please you,
I live to see the best in you
You and I are the best match
Havens have open mountains
Heavy rains ought to end us
But don’t be afraid
I have created tents to keep you safe
The safest place for you is in my heart
Where only my thoughts and blood play
My blood oozes with oxygen and love
Don’t be afraid this love is forever
I have devoted all my love to you
The clouds have surrendered its beauty for us
This is all for you
So don’t be afraid
This is the love that children will fantasizes
This is the love that you wished for
Your wishes have come true
Little Red was riding all alone
but she lost her way back home
Sweet Mommy, ready with her jam and pancakes
waited for her dear Little Red all day
but where did she go?
where did she go?
that night was starless
and the wind was blowing so cold
Sweet mommy got so worried
so she called up Little Red on the phone
and asked the little brat where did she go
"mommy dont worry, please be calm", she answered
"i'm here at the city to hang out.
got a new baby, and by the way, grandma's ok, the wolf is dead
I'll be fine. i promise... I'll be home at ten"
So Sweet mommy stayed awake
waiting for her dear Little Red
But no Little Red came at ten
"that stubborn brat...", sweet mommy said
Again she called up Little Red
but the daughter's phone was unattended
It was already past eleven
"tomorrow, she'll have a good beating..." the mother said
It was past twelve already
when Sweet Mommy's phone rang
It was Little Red with a trembling voice
crying to her out loud
"Mommy, mommy...i'm so scared...please pray!
My baby's drunk and our car lost its brake
Mommy, i'm so sorry for what i've done and said
Mommy, mommy...I Love you...Oh shit!!!"..then the phone was dead
That night was starless
The wind was so cold
Where's Little Red now?
Yesterday while on my way to a supermarket I saw a little girl of perhaps five leaning at
a tree close to the road and watching a blue plastic bag which was drifting in the wind.
She looked very sad with her light blue eyes and her blond hair streamed out behind her.
The bag was lifted by a strong blast and I ran after it, crossing the road. A car came and
stopped, waiting for me to cross the road. A younger man on the other side of the road saw
that I wanted to catch the bag and he was also running after it, but the wind drifted the
bag far over the lawn up hills. After some unsuccessful attempts to get hold of the bag he
finally could grab it. I went to him and he gave me the bag and smiled. I then told him
that a little girl was sad about losing that bag. He wished me a nice weekend and I
returned to that little girl still standing near the tree but this time smiling. She shyly
whispered "Thank you", took the bag and ran to her little playmates waiting for her
anxiously in the background.
Lost and Confused, with life.
My Pain and Fear is all I have Left.
Standing alone with no place to go.
Just another Piece in this puzzle, I am.
Playing a role, that shall not be remembered.
But a piece that will be forgotten.
One that got lost along the way.
Lost and Confused, with Life.
Love is all but what we have.
Its what drives us everyday.
A motivation so deeply encouraged.
When achieved, all is but of greater value.
Lost and Confused, with Life.
I leave this place with one memory
but of you, and all its glory.
This Poem is about the 'hard to get' attitude ladies portray to interested guys.
Despite my unbelievable swag
repugnance is her reaction to my flow
despite giving no attention to her
she seeks every opportunity to shout "NO!"
I seldom want to be friendly
but she spits on me like a bitter foe
I then don't give a damn about her
and she takes it like a heavy blow
Out of nothing, she creates a scene
but all I can do is shake my head
and say Oh!
the more I mingle, the worse she gets
but I'll not succumb and act so low
she flaunts her male acquaintances for me to notice
Okay! You have admirers, so?
I guessed this is a one time attitude
but it has been occurring seven weeks in a row
When I register my presence around her
her body rhythm increases as if in physio
trying so hard to pretend
makes her seem like a shy dancing Buffalo
Then, I make her seem not existing
it's not my fault; you reap what you sow
signs of her sufferings begin to show
as her body trembles in sight of me
from head to toe
what a pleasant feeling this brings
seeing her drown in her own woe
She concedes defeat and already surrendering
showing by the way she's changing like melting snow
now playing the nice girl, but my ignore?
Makes her want to stone me with a Hoe
I'm beginning to compromise emotionally too
and I'm scared she will get fed up and go
so, I create my chance and kiss her
as she shows her joy like a swelling dough
revealing her hypocrisy, exhibited right from the beginning.
Since this feeling is now reciprocated,
she shrugs off the attitude and dumps it below
as a new damsel now emitting with an everlasting glow.
A girl was raped in a bus that night
By six men, all drunk, who had lost their minds
Ambrosia was the elixir of gods, it is said
But godlike men in this age aren’t born or made
Alcohol wrecks judgment, makes beasts out of men
Deeds under its influence have put us men to shame
Shops abound in our nation where alcohol is sold
The government till overflows when the weather turns cold
A corrupt force is tasked to uphold the country’s law
Incidents occurring on a daily basis expose this basic flaw
Fear of law is no deterrent for miscreants and crooks
The police prefer to look away; with them, they are in cahoots
But a girl still battles death today aided by a ventilator
Skewered with an iron rod that night, unending was her horror
Demonstrations against this shame were met with brutal force
Citizens showing solidarity were bludgeoned without remorse
The hand that wields the baton to protect civil society
Is now the hand that throttles free voice and liberty
Bad governance, we know is the bane of any nation
Bad policing and lawlessness is responsible for any country’s degeneration
Instead of upholding law and maintaining order
Law enforcers are subdued by their political masters
Whose lack of will to rein in the force given selfish political aspirations
Stems from a sense of indebtedness for furthering their ambitions
Burning state fuel at night they stalk and chase prey
Fleecing shady truckers and wheeler-dealers who operate in markets grey
This extortion by night on city road and state highway
Robs the state of much needed revenue and is an add-on to their pay
Similar incidents happen each day of the year and night
In night’s anonymous darkness or blatantly by daylight
With the force preoccupied in matters so vital
Who will protect our girls and control the crime spiral
The government of the day is callous to people’s concerns
Callous to a daughter’s fate on whom men on a bus took turns
De Andy Lee (part one)
Talks about the little Lady Lee and me,
It all started at the first flight
Our adventure had an origin---
From Off-ego was where we met
So dazzling was her beauty that
Caught my eyes at first sight
And unresisting, my passion wooed along
Believe me, my eyes contended and my heart clamored
Though my lips stuttered
Deep down inside me was stamina within
Whispering “You can do it, yes, you can”
As I opened my eyes, unknowingly, I’d reached for Lee’s hands
“Hi pretty damsel… as anyone ever told… you…‘re charming”
Perhaps this was a poor pick up line
But she smiled anyway and then freed herself away
Like a butterfly hovered from my hands.
Not so long, Terry, a neighbor from Long-town
Knocked at my door, walked himself in as I consented
And handed me a postal, “thank you Terry”, I said
While I thought through who might mail me this
Piece on my palm which I was about to cut exposed
Alas a nightmare-like knocks from the dark
I (already) left my door ajar
“You help yourself in please” I utter’d as expected
“Good day sir, I’m Dandy. There is a lady waiting for you outside
She said are name is Lee De Lee”
Agape! “It must have been that lady from Off-ego,
Yes she’d seized my throat already. I think, my previous
Chat with her there was not bad after all”
Walked myself out with one of my finest attires
Dandy took me to that spot she picked him for me and left
Me, only me wandering and wallowing nervously in the chilly clouds
“Hail Mary, hope I guess right… and where is little Lee De Lee?”
I soliloquized… and as Heaven helped me,
She appeared and approached
“My apology for keeping you waiting Mr Handsome,
May be you did wow me like you did other ladies or not
But my question is this… Will you love me like
You never have loved any other lady in this city?”
Though puzzled me but “I must top this chat” I assured
“Not only love will I give, but all for our short courtship
And the thereafter long and everlasting wedlock”
I could see from her face, expressions said to say
‘Another clever words from your sweet mouth’
But lo she opted for most sensitive part of me,
Which could be very vulnerable sometimes
“What did you say that your sweet name is… Handsome?”
There I unveiled my name, which is Agape-
“A-G-A-P-E, yes, pronounced Aa-gaa-pey from On-town” I said….
She is so typical
For most part difficult
I never really could grasp her in such way
She just wants me to some how stay
She comes to my man cave and makes me obey
Shy she was and now I am scared
In such way I almost cared
She thinks she can do everything for me I swear
She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening
So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy
A couple of years later, at age 19, this farm girl married and, true to her Catholic
upbringing, began having children. She had four live births and four miscarriages over the course of less than seven years, long before the idea of “post-partum” depression was even a gleam of understanding in anyone’s mind. After the birth of her fourth child, a girl who would grow up to study environmental sciences and eventually draw the correlation between that first atomic explosion and her mother’s first episode of mental, emotional and physical distress, that infant had to be taken by her aunt and uncle to care for lest she perish from failure to thrive because by this time, mom was so deeply depressed, she was unable to care for her newborn.
In those days there was no such thing as mental health care, no understanding at all of how to nourish the brain or detox the body from the effects of poisons and radiation…for indeed these advances are only recently gaining traction and still only in the realm of “alternative health care”. With no understanding of her condition, or of what would even constitute appropriate care, her state of mind and body continued to deteriorate. After more than one suicidal episode and losing her children to foster care while she entered a treatment and rehabilitation facility, she was eventually diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic and manic-depressive, giving her husband sufficient justification to divorce her and blame her parents for not telling him that she was mentally deficient before he married her. Even the Catholic Church agreed and granted an annulment of the marriage that produced his four live children and four miscarriages while he served in the Air Force and left her to care for his children while he was away for years at a time overseas on unaccompanied assignments. But nevertheless, the marriage was officially annulled so that he could marry again sanctioned by the Church and his Catholic bride could continue to take unholy communion in mass.
The events that took place in a remote area of New Mexico about 230 miles south of Los Alamos during the predawn hours of July 16, 1945 forever changed the world. In the early morning darkness the incredible destructive powers of the atom bomb, code-named "Trinity", were first unleashed, and what had been merely theoretical became reality. Said General Groves, head of the Manhattan project, "We were reaching into the unknown and we did not know what might come of it". Some feared the consequences of radio-active fallout on civilian populations surrounding the test site. Observers were sent to surrounding towns to monitor the results of the blast and medical teams were kept on alert. But the hope and the focus was on the feeling that we now had the means to ensure a speedy conclusion to the war and save thousands of American lives.
A bit over 400 miles north, north east of the blast on that early morning in July, in a
small Panhandle farm, a girl of 17 rose, as was her daily custom, to milk the cows by
hand, she being the youngest child and only girl of second-generation Polish immigrants who made their living by raising maize and wheat, cows and chickens and selling their milk and eggs in the small town nearby. But less than a month after the July 16th test of the atomic bomb, this otherwise seemingly healthy girl fell into such a malaise that she could not even get out of bed much less carry on with her assigned chores on the farm. She was brought to a hospital in Amarillo and eventually discharged with no diagnosis other than she must have had a nervous breakdown due to some kind of female hysteria. She was sent away to a convent to recuperate but no one, least of all her parents, ever really knew what could have caused her sudden “nervous breakdown” that took place downwind and less than a day’s drive from that first historic explosion of the atomic bomb.
Broken in Pieces, we fall.
A burning desire for love,
that will never be found.
A Cause not worth fighting for,
Looking for what I have left of me.
Just to find something left to see,
that's worth of me.
Broken in Pieces, you fall.
A Burning love I no longer desire,
that will be soon found.
A Cause worth fighting for,
Looking for a way not to be alone.
Just to find something I loved,
that I still desire.
A game of musical chairs has just begun in earnest. A pot and kettle band arrives
through the dining rooms’ French doors following the Valentine Queen. A putrid pink
flamingo with a croquet ball stuck in its beak settles it’s derrière onto a fine caramel
leather seat. His humor is short lived. A snort echoes from each of the six bullhorns
forming his head. “Got him that time, you really did, Matilda!” laughed Lucky, the
horn-backed chair. A single, rose-pink, button pops off Matilda’s back and lands in
the hatless brigands’ teapot, just as he is placing a silver tea ball inside. “Ou a le
petite fille?” Matilda groans. Around the far end of the table chasing a set of
disembodied eyes with a cat tail, a girl child runs screeching. “She looks familiar,
don’t she?” Windy whistles beneath the lacy tablecloth, tickling Mattie’s fancy. “Her
name ain’t Louise,” as with a plop, a brigand crushes Laddie’s rushes. The windsor
replies. “Geeeeeeeeez Louise!” the ladder-back mutters, between its back straps. A
top hat flies through the air and landed on the top knob of the lanky ladder backed
chair. The child righted herself, wiping her nose on the errant apron string. She lisps
through the spider web pattern of her seat. “Awww now what a shame,” Mary
whispers to Tex. The loose tails of her apron caught beneath Mary’s rocker and the
child tumbled face forward into a full cup of Assam tea. A girl child resplendent in
golden locks and white pinafore tore into the room planting herself on the caned
ladies rocker Mary. “Mon Dieu” She moans. “Ya’ll see that nasty monster splatter
chocolate icing on my skirt?” A knob kneed, potbellied prig, holding a cupcake,
shoves his way onto Matilda, the little ladies slipper chair. Tex the horned back chair
at the tables girdle chortles. “Do you know who’s been invited to this soiree?” The
rabbit topples over backward, his watch bashing his delicate pink nose. Windy
sneezes.“Aahhh chhhooo!” Tufts of fanny fur tickled between his spokes.
“Good golly Miss Molly,” shrieks Windy the windsor chair at the far end of the table,
as a wild-eyed, white rabbit with a gold watch plunked into his well-worn seat.
*Refer to "The Chairs Have it"
This poem can be read from the backwards too ;)
There are no promises, no real guarantees
You just have to go with it and hope for the best
It’s probably one of the scariest feelings
You want to not think about it and just enjoy it for what it is and live in the moment
Then there’s that little voice in your head saying “why bother?”
“You’re going to be left crushed and disappointed just like all the other time?”
You keep trying to push it aside but your heart and mind start to feel weary
While I consider myself to be the hopeless romantic who longs for that one who completes the puzzle piece, id don’t want to fall so hard again to end up putting the shattered pieces of my soul back together once more
I want to be able to jump and fly
Not fall and cry
It’s much easier said than done, as are many things
There are no promises, no real guarantees
But every once in a good while you got to jump into the unknown
Im absolutely terrified
My knees shake
Like a baby fawn learning to take its first steps
I want to leap into this wondrous field of possibility
I just don’t want to be dropped like a hot potato
Like so many other times before
I want to believe and have an abundance of hope
But how can I when I’ve been left with a broken heart
Picking up all the jagged pieces, one by one
How can I believe that this time will be any different?
How do I dare risk it all again
Knowing that im putting it all out there once more
The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life
It's Friday night
In the Ghetto
From the dark ring out
A little girl crying
Daddy don’t hit mama
Sit down and shut up
On the walls
As neighbors threaten
To call the cops
Drugs in the hallways
Drugs on the streets
Who will that pretty girl meet
To make the money
To feed the habit or pay
The bills or just to eat.
And still around the corner
Near the shops
The people stand
And talk about the promise land
Its Friday night in the ghetto and the
Promise land is
The pawn shop
Peanut butter and jelly.
The music from the barber shop
Makes a fellow stop
And touch fists
With a friend
From around the way
Hey remember the day
Then out of the night air
Shots ring out
That little girl
Sitting on the floor
Playing with her dolls
Ken and Barbie
Dreaming of a time
When she will meet her
Ken and maybe
Falls on her face
This is the place
And its Friday
Poem by SGSteverson
From the book"Four Pieces of a Silver Coin"
Remember that girl wearing old pink attire?
She dances so well like an electrifying wire.
She has no height! Yes we know!
That cute girl with messy hair goes always with the flow!
She moves like a stylist funky hot guy.
That girl wearing cap can’t be in old want style.
She’s a blabber! Yes we know!
She talks like rapper who always keeps on the go!
She’s shaking things off unexpectedly,
Crowd is whining like a crying child vigorously,
She’s a performer! Yes we know!
That girl always makes sure that she has her one grand show.
She’s a vixen, a rare amazing one!
She’s always making sense and keeps things on her run.
She’s viciously awesome! Yes we know!
Without her is quite less boredom kind of dance show.
The brutalized girl breathed her last in faraway Singapore
She met her fate returning home, a couple of weeks ago
To shift the focus of the masses on an issue so emotive
And moved to a hospital in a distant land with a purely political motive
Reputed for organ transplants in which their hospital specialized
What good did it do to a grievously hurt girl whose condition had not stabilized
The six hour flight to the distant shore was surely a misadventure
The government was uneasy with restive crowds near their hallowed seat of power
The government paid lip service to the girl who is no more
Making promises to a nation, both aggrieved and sore
But in the interim, another girl in a neighbouring state
Ended her life, harassed and denied for weeks from recording her rape
The administration’s handling of such incidents
Are not far and few and have many precedents
A woman parliamentarian and doctor to boot
Said something very strange in a television interview
Referred to a victim from the past
And on her character, aspersions she cast
Pronouncing to media that it was not rape at all
But a call-girl’s transaction gone wrong; what gall!
Another MP, this time the President’s son
Sought to have fun with his knowledge of the English lexicon
And portrayed the women demonstrators of civil society as ‘painted & dented’
The backlash was so vicious, on national television he recanted
With red lights marking them as their sirens wail through the streets
Breaking traffic rules and followed by a bureaucratic fleet
Politicians think that from their ivory towers they have seen it all
As elected office bearers they never cease to appall
In times of crisis you can sense the disconnect
But democracy is about people’s choices, who do we elect?
And to men, I must ask why bestiality has become our way
Together we can surely change the world for a better day
Please resist if opportunity demands when you see a girl harassed
Or at the least seek help fast, you have to save the lass!
In the first grey light of dawn, a young woman begins the morning song.
The simple cadences of her song are as tranquil and liquid as the monsoon rain,
Trickling down the broad leaves in her mother’s garden.
The steady drumming on the veranda roof echoes her rhythms.
She sings of joys, of sorrows, and of love … always of love …
This morning song is as familiar and comforting as a lullaby.
Her mother brought it with her from the South,
And sang it every morning for her father.
Now, she sings for them both, as they begin the day.
Today will be special for her.
She is to meet her future husband for the first time.
She has never seen him, but she trusts her parents’ judgement …
After all, they love her, don’t they?
She hopes he will be kind, and maybe a little bit handsome …
Like the boy she’s seen in town.
But she must try to forget him …
On another veranda, a young man sits silent, listening.
He sits here at every dawn to hear the morning raga,
Entranced by the voice of a girl he cannot see.
He, too, is to meet his betrothed today.
He wishes she might be a singer, or at least enjoy the morning song,
When she comes to live at his mother’s house.
He remembers a lovely girl he saw … sly glances, shy smiles …
If his new wife is half as pretty, he will be well content.
Yes! He will …
He believes his secret is safe, but mothers see everything …
And his mother loves him. So she whispered to a friend,
And her friend whispered to another, and, well …
A good husband is not hard to persuade …
The sun has risen above the clouds.
There is much to do today – and if the young people agree,
There will be a lucky Monsoon wedding to arrange.
But first, the song.
Entered in Elaine's "Tell me a story" contest
The grass, a glossy emerald green
beneath an azure sky;
the breeze was blowing to and fro,
a noontime in July.
The birds were singing melodies
of flying in the wind;
they didn't want to go alone,
so they sought out a friend.
A little girl with flowing hair
was dancing 'round the tree;
her dress reflected rays of light
that shone among the leaves.
She clapped her hands; she clapped them twice;
she clapped her hands three times;
she then began to spin around
and jump just like the chimes.
And then two birds atop the tree
began to plummet down;
they swirled together as they traveled
toward the emerald ground.
The little girl had stopped her spin,
her arms were at her side,
until she stretched them out to let
the birds give up their glide.
They landed on her little hands,
their wings extended still;
the girl began to run to find
a place atop the hill.
As she ran up to the top,
a bird began to follow;
then all the birds soon did the same
and left their wooden hollow.
The girl, still running, birds in hand,
finally found her stop;
she slowed her feet and caught her breath
while on the mountain top.
The birds, still flying, followed suit
and tried to slow the flight,
but when they got to where she stopped,
they couldn't stop their plight.
So 'round and 'round and 'round they flew
around the little girl;
she felt a breeze begin to blow,
then she began to twirl.
She twirled and twirled and twirled until
her feet were off the ground;
she felt herself move toward the sky,
and then she looked around.
She saw the tree beneath her feet,
The oak, so far away;
she was flying with the birds,
what driving disarray!
Summer's eve is not yet here;
The time is now or none;
So fly as high as you can see,
Or else your summer's done.