Somewhere in an old-growth forest,
a woman smoothly moves amidst
shadows of the pines and hardwoods.
Her mossy gown is verdant green,
her hair twinkles with mica and
her soul, deep as a midnight sky,
with remote star clusters beaming.
She tends the ruins of an ancient inn
and a bed of ferns and roses.
Many a nomad, passing through,
is revived by her grace and goodness.
Though we can't lay hands on her,
she wanders free within our grasp,
For the ancient inn beguiles us still
in the labyrinths of our minds.
Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head
Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much
I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care
I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....
Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail
Strawberries And Unknown Girl
Strawberries grow unaided in the field
Green, red and magic on the day
Sentinels stationed; they speak kindly of the Sun
And sometimes of an unknown girl
She’s there just out of reach
In the air, partaking of sweet pleasures
Years collect themselves in silence
Still sense her song and mystery adrift
Along strawberry rows aligned in history
Those corridors of time in endless days at play
And there she stays a fair young maiden
A constant unknown wonder to this day
Entered in - "I Love Rock N' Roll" Poetry Contest 11/14/14
Inspired by: John Lennon and The Beatles
The song: Strawberry Fields Forever
I do not know?
The spider webs
in the middle
of two black steel bars
of a vacant porch
of the early part of the day.
The black woman travel
on foot to watch the spider's web.
The male rapist see the black woman
on the vacant porch and seize her body.
The spider notice the black woman struggle
with the male rapist and webs them together
in the rape
of the year.
They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.
Down the Missouri they traveled,
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end.
©2013 Honestly JT
Have you seen a bamboo?
the tallest grass ever exist,
dancing and bending and swaying...
whistling upon nature's grace?
Have you seen a woman,
standing beneath heavy rains and winds;
and thunders and lightnings that flashes,
enduring and firmly believing,
that she can surpass everything?
Have you seen a canvas,
with nature's subject on it;
i can paint it very well;
a withering bamboo and crying woman on it?
Nature... nature... listen to inner whispers' cry...
may you strongly fight as I fight;
may you survive long from harmful hands;
that never cease to harm your sight!
Wrinkle, wrinkle on my face…
Couldn't you have found some other place ?
What made you furrow between my eyes ?
And all those creams, they are nothing but lies….
When I look in the mirror, all I can see…
Is a silver haired person staring back at me….
Then there are the lines , which run down the sides of my nose…
Running in circles, round my lips, down my neck and into my clothes….
Speaking of clothes , isn’t that where the wrinkles should be ?
Is nature playing a trick on me ?
Or is this a sign “ old “ is sneaking up on me ?
It seems only yesterday I was a young girl .. and had my whole life ahead of me…
So simple..so free……
Which don’t take me wrong I have enjoyed my life’s ride…
And there isn’t much in my life, I haven’t tried….
But it should would be nice if I could just see…
Myself with one less wrinkle…when I looked back at me…..
Through the lonely woods, I may head,
Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,
At the secluded horizon, I may stare,
And only you, I may see,
In those symphonies of silence,
In those melodies of calmness,
In those euphonies of quietness.
By the silent lake, I may lay,
Till the twilight fades, I may stay,
Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,
And only to you, I may talk,
Through those toungueless emotions,
Through those wordless attachments,
Through those voiceless sentiments.
In the lone meadow, I may wander,
Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,
In companionless seclusion, I may hide,
And only in you, I may find,
The depths of oneness,
The bonds of togetherness,
The cozy feel of coalescence.
In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,
At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,
Through a million wounds, I may bleed,
And only in you, I may seek,
The balm of love,
The warmth of affection,
The heal of inseparability.
Can I catch you
Can you stay?
Forests at wood
There we play
A gentle hand
That fixed the dress
Brushing tears back
I can not bare
The oaken wave
Can I save
I miss your hair
And what it covered
More than a mind
God knows I loved her
The ghost I knew
She rests away
I can not catch you
You can not stay.
I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.
And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."
I walked alone
along a sandy and lonely beach.
The raging waves from the sea
crashed onto the slimy sea shore.
The riding waves were white and bare,
but when they violently crashed, turned white and black.
I walked along the lonely beach.
Listening to the seagulls chatting
on silver rocks and boulders.
I sat near the shore.
The waves coing in and out
crashing violently on the silver rocks and boulders.
I sat there, lonely skipping pebbles into the vase and endless sea.
The waves came in and swallowed the pebbles, I threw its way.
The sea crabs wabbling from side to side, came up from the shore.
They kept me company on a lone and quiet evening.
A lone dog walking without an owner
came and curled up next to me,
and barked at the chattering seagulls.
They flew in panic toward the setting of the Red Sun,
and disappeared into the evening paradise.
The lone dog gazed upon the red sheld sea crabs,
and chased their wabbling bodies away
back down to the slimy sea shore.
And at the setting of the evening, I was alone.
Soon I had seen something
that had shocked me,
A young and beautiful gypsy woman.
She crossed my path along the lonesome beach.
All of a sudden the beach became full with love and life of all kind.
The lilacs, and roses, and violets and daisies
grew tall and bloomed, like madmen.
The waves pulled in by the full moon,
that shinned upon me and the Gypsy Woman.
She was decorated with ragged skirts and blouses,
with shinny, white pearls around her neck,
and golden bracelets around her wrists.
She smiled at me.
I smiled back at her.
Her hair black, with a vail of flowers around her head.
She stopped me and held my hand.
I was astonished and afraid.
What was this stunning and beautiful woman doing to me?
A victim of lost love and heartbrake.
I had no money, no jewlery.
I asked her what she wanted.
She replied with loneliness in her voice;
"To be loved."
I pulled her in, and kissed her,
and whispered softly in her ear,
decorated with silver earrings;
We joined hands and walked the lonesome sandy beach.
Listening to the waves, now softly coming in and pulling out.
The shore, now not so slimy,
and the silver rocks and boulders sleeping so peacefully.
I turned to her and she smiled at me.
I held her in my arms and kissed her upon her sweet brow.
Silver women with fragile spines
Lonely during the week, they must be doing something right
The loneliness doesn’t affect them, and they don’t want to scream and shout
Daily feelings of sadness, sometimes are beautiful and sometimes are loud
These women transformed themselves in statues made of seam and dreams
So they can stay in their days willing to give, care and redeem
Time isn’t the problem, but let there be courage to move forward old days of resembling habits
Make them brave, and they would be the Sea Lion Woman of their own credits
Two old flames took a boat one April day
out on a small lake as dark clouds formed above.
The woman had a question which unanswered lay
as heavy as the clouds which they took no notice of
until, at last, the woman heard the truth from her old love. . .
In silence they drifted, each one yearning to regain
the passion lost, and then the sky spilled tears for longing’s ache.
All at once, there was a ring of sweet laughter in that rain
as a resurrection with the torrent came,
and then, their burning bodies, drenched, rekindled the old flame.
Inspired by the movie The Notebook
and Francine Roberts'
Spring Rain Poetry Contest
If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked.
Vickie M. Ortiz Vázquez
Human am I
So, I hear I am human
Therefore, human rights by nature are mine
Who have spoken of these?
Martin Luther King, Jr
The Black Panther Party and the F.L.A.N
Human am I
Born female with a path
Grown to a woman with a guilty mark
So, I hear I am human
Therefore, human rights by nature are mine
Grown to a woman
Human still am I
Yet, simple human rights have been denied
To brothers and sisters of mine
Still human am I
Therefore, human rights are being denied
By those who can’t understand
What nature can’t denied
Human am I
So, I hear I am human
Still a human am I
A woman with human rights…
The Woman Named Fire
The eternal woman named Fire
Eternal but not immortal
Her life remains a fragile gift
Given by God yet owned by man
Her brightness fills the dark sky
Red, yellow, blue and all colors in between
Her skin evokes romance and fear
The pit is her prison
Struggling to be free she fights a futile fight
She is held captive by remaining embers
Her fingers reach to the skies
Grabbing the air as it rushes up
Hoping to be pulled away from her torture
Rebellion fills the air with sparks and smoke
Parts of her soul being ripped away
Her pain makes her bigger and stronger as she fights
The more she fights
The more of herself is ripped away
But with all the pain
All the torture she never gives up
In the end her spirit is wasted
Destroyed by her efforts
Her body lies as a pile of graying charcoal
Her soul is just the last few whiffs of smoke
Her hopes are the last few burning embers
But alas the woman named Fire is dead
And nothing remains
The woman steps out on the balcony of her high rise apartment and among the buildings and streets and stoplights witnesses a fulcrum, an edge.
An edge, the edge, the intersection of beginnings and endings,
The moment when crops are ripe for harvest.
The edge calls to us and invites us to forsake what is known,
The edge calls us to test the limits of our understanding,
And step into an abyss of possibility,
Sinking down into relaxed awareness of beauty,
The edge awaits us.
The edge, where race no longer matters and neither does popularity,
The edge, where souls delight in the magic of music,
The edge, where souls delight in the power of seasons to change and death to beget life,
The edge is where we are neither disappointed at what we have not done or anxious that we will not continue in doing,
The edge is where we can see a life, a leaf, a soul for what it is without a biased back story of prejudiced contrivance,
The edge is where babies go when they are awakened in the womb,
The edge is the horizon where sunrises and twilight take our breath to the height of admiration,
For only God can make this atmosphere to shine just right as the sun and moon dance their dance of gratitude,
The edge is what I wish for now and always,
The woman steps out of her house in the mountains and among the stars hidden in sunshine and premature butterflies hidden in billowy leaves on trees she witnesses an edge, a fulcrum.
Where divinity and gratitude explode in the praise of creativity and the worship of life anew.
Edges, edges where comfortable platitudes have no voice and ignorant assumptions are ostracized,
Come quickly edges, come quickly edges and embrace me.
An earthly existence
A universe beyond my minds, comprehension
Life lessons reviewed
I am not lost, after all!
I am a willing participant
Serving, the Father, of all creation
His son combined, ‘producing life’ as we know it
Representing them, in everything I do
I am nothing, without Love!
My heart full of faith, loyal service I give
Learning how to unconditionally serve, as the Father unconditionally, loves me
Worshipping our Divine Creator’s existence
Choosing to live, moment to moment
Being as one with ‘Our Universal Father’
No physical permanency
My physicality, disappearing
My mortality existence, I let go of
My spirit alive!
‘I am only passing through!’
A unique, experience of mortality
A gift, I am blessed to experience, to live!
They grew all over
In the sunlight they progressed
The vines became her
And she was one with the vines
The sunshine brought life to them
She held docile vines
Growing like weeds onto her
She was very free
Green and nude she went along
Becoming just like the vines
She didn’t know much
Where the vines came from that day
They appeared at once
After she fell asleep then
In the warm light of the sun
It seems that vines love
The cute essence of the sun
And the heat she has
Then they grew on her, beaming
Becomes that of her being
Now she is attached
Firmly planted on the ground
With nutrients there
Pumping juice through living Earth
And the sunshine’s energy
Now she loves the vines
And she can still write poems
She writes on nature
Something she now knows about
By sunshine is she able
A repost under a different title. A unique vision!
Surely to know the ambrosial quiver
Of stiffened fruit, ripe and swollen
With stolen fragrance and lovely flush
Of seeded solvent all down a furtive face
And up the greedy pink arms of cloud-ward reaching children
Is to know also the jealous rain
Her green glances gorge on mellow delight
Indulgent and impatient with quick eyes
Snatching strokes of waxy flesh
Torrid caress under an austere guise of gray
She is a lean and idle glutton
Who lashes in strife with quickness and lusty strikes
It will be a feast of soul
If you do not slay her first
I do not know?
The Sieve of Time
along the banks of time,
whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,
clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,
trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.
flung aside for no discernible crime,
my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,
I stagger ashore,
embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.
A lover's caress,
driven by such avarice;
I do not know?
In time she wakes; I, the the sun, that kisses her face.
No lies or disguise, just the radiant reflection of African skies on the rise in her eyes.
Beauty unmistakable, incredible, unforgettable;
My eyes drink the scene until I'm full.
Her hair, her face, that skin, where to begin?
So smooth the soft surfaces surrounded and swirled in swirling sheets that keeps my amber bright morning light tight in her sight.
She can't quite fight the bite to ignite with all her might.
Yet before the day slips away she'll sway and play in Plettenberg bay.
And from her lips drips the sips from oceans where now sleep the ships and slips of men that crashed and smashed from sirens singing and calling out their longing and wanting so haunting - the sound spilling from that same coy style of a Mona Lisa smile.
She wants to linger on but horizons blue, orange, yellow and red hint of bed instead it must be said.
Soon to the night she'll wed but before that rest she shares her shape in shadows on the shore.
A dance does she once again as I gaze with the last blaze of my rays across the waves,
until again, through the morning haze, I'll wake her just to see her eyes kiss the skies that light up from the light in my eyes.
For she is my earth, my world, my purpose, I am her sun.
This breathing circle, this vision, no dark nightly dream would it seem could ever forever our helix make undone.
I do not know?
Mora Piya Ghar Aaya (My Beloved Has Returned Home)
the leaves fell, as you left, a bleak chill wafting across the barren space within my being,
you left, taking your smile and mine,
my smile rests with you still, leaving a void impossible to fill.
pangs of longing consumed me, my only company in the frigid nights,
my tears remain frozen, within,
unable to fall from my broken eyes, as I searched the depths of the cold, harsh skies.
birds returned home, though you did not, and I felt soothing rebirth all around,
memories of you began blazing, their embers stoked,
and at last the tears rolled, like ink on this blank notebook, my whole being pined for you, my very self in anguish silently shook.
alive I felt again, the promise of the coming cooling rain, easing the heat of desire,
yet the furnace slowly raged inside, your absence tearing into me, shattering my nights, my longing for you soaring unfettered across the skies,
dancing on clouds, blissfully free,
heaven itself opened, the deluge an unending dream,
rain falling all around, mingling with my flowing tears,
and then I saw you, you returned, and I embraced you, never wishing to let you go,
and though I may wear the mask of the clown,
if you were to leave again,
my very soul, would quietly slip away, and in the monsoon rains, I would gratefully drown.
I do not know?
I swear to the summer- I am a well-aged drummer...
Like liver and pee's
Like grease on the tree's
Like Sweet tarts and tea
I swear to the summer- I am a well-aged drummer...
Like listeners without runners
Like dangerous men without gunners
-Don't be naked just be funner
Don't be jaded just act like your comin'
I swear to the summer- I need no real number
I swear to your comin'- I love the leader and all the wanderer
And the fisherman
And the ponderer
And the drinker
And the blunderer
I swear to the summer -I am a well aged drummer
I can take away your lumber
And burn it like a hunter
I can turn it into somethin'
-that I saw in the light of the reflection
I can see you dance well in the mist
Of nature's best kiss
And resist when you need the fist
even though I am just a man
And I have never felt the shit
Like a tall building that hasn't been built yet
Like an animal that hasn't been born yet
Like man with his child
Like women with her mild
Life has a style
You have it,
and you fill
In the mind
And in the child
Just to say it again,
you have been the smile
And your love makes me wild
And your hugs hold for miles
And your fun takes the pile
And even though you're gone now I can stay for a while
And sway in the reef when the tide lifts me
And feel the knees when I become weak
And be too much when too much hits me
And sleep when god reads me
The Story of Adam and Eve
Is all well and good and fine,
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.
First of all it shows the Love of our Creator,
The One, the Good, the True, the Beautiful,
And the deviousness of the Hater.
Antithesis of Love and Justice; a traitor.
The story of Adam and Eve
Is all well and good and fine.
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.
In our selfish disobedience
we are the very same today,
In our sinful expedience
to get our own way.
Adam was created first,
the woman as an ad lib.
Because Adam was lonely for his own kind
God formed her from his rib.
Well, they were doing just fine
Until one day the serpent said “Eve
You want to be like God, I believe.”
She said yes that would be fine.
So she gave Adam a tempting plausible line,
And he apathetically joined in the sinful crime.
Didn’t want to make any waves, you know,
After all he had his seeds to sow.
And so we see how they fared
Still, woman always shooting for control
The man timid and scared.
The snake laughing in his hole.
So men, before you succumb to so called feminists
and both sexes spend eternity crying…
Remember, ..God only gave her your rib…
so please,.. take back your spine.
creeping with callous intent
'fore lethal fangs plunge.
I do not know?
Saturday Rain in Johannesburg…
…With sighs of torrential passion,
the heavens shower teardrops,
weeping with me,
as memories of you come cascading back,
skin on skin, ablaze,
moist kisses, fiery,
gentle whispers of undying love, murmured,
in another life, another time,
far removed from my present, a desolate state of despair,
wallowing in the grime.
The rain keeps falling,
each teardrop stinging my face,
tasting the salt on my lips,
I wonder, do you still remember the caresses of my fingertips,
between breathy confessions, and vows of eternal love,
before you left me, stranded on an island of solitude,
wounded as a wingless dove,
bereft of life,
stripped of all traces of fortitude
She's like the breeze that puts me on ease
As she massages my sixteen degrees
Of darkness she pleases every pigment of melanin in my skin
With her cores time is limitless, yes I must confess
For even if time had a limit, I would love her until my last breath
Covered in righteousness to the universe may I express?
That my love for her is the greatest, by becoming a beam of light
So bright that the blind would gain sight, the Sun would recite
Sweet lullabies to the Moon in the night!
Walking amongst the wooden giants at night
The only light was the bright I was giving off
I slothed through the land taking it all in
I couldn’t even begin what mental state I’m in
On a natural vibe I am a one woman tribe
Warrior of the night
Lioness, princess of nature.
It craters me in its beauty
I frolic and I talk to it
Come with me
To the land of lovely
I’ll walk thee to the highest point
Of your body and mind you will be anointed with joy I want to deploy your passion
In the mansion of mother earths madness
Here's another little story
Told around my land;
This one's of a little boy who
Loved to play with sand.
You could find him on the beach on
"Moisture in the air," he said, "will
Help me set the grains."
He'd construct these works of art that
Seem like they're too real;
Statues, castles, planets, ships,
Nothing's too surreal.
Fortunate was I too see his
Very last attempt;
"Now I'll try to carve out something
Free of world's contempt."
"Beauty is the source for this one.
Love, the motive right.
She'll be great! I know she will have
Starting with a mound of sand, he
Chucked the first bit off;
Then, as if he knew to fly, he
Whizzed around stuff.
What I saw before me was a
Tribute to success;
Sand that had no form at all was
Turning to noblesse.
Finally, he settled down and
Looked at what he made;
Standing there was but a goddess
Lying in the shade.
Beauty was the inspiration,
No doubt in my mind;
His creation was the best in
All of humankind.
"Something's just not right," he said while
Reaching for his pail;
"Can't just leave it like it is, so
Meek, so hard and pale."
After some reflective time, he
Ran to the lagoon;
Then he started humming out a
Soft and gentle tune.
When the water heard his song so
Lofty in the wind,
It responded with a light that
Spawned from its within.
Beaming out into the air, the
Light began to rise,
Like a worm that's coming up for
Water from the skies.
The worm of light began to make
Its way across the beach;
And when it came next to the art
It came to sudden breach.
The light began to swirl around
The woman made of sand.
It started at her chest and spread
Throughout her feet and hands.
And what my eyes beheld me next
Was nothing short of awe;
The woman made of sand began
To breathe and move her jaw.
I am the cool breeze playing through your hair
I am the soft whispers of the flower petals against your ear
I am the tree standing heroically above the fields grasses
I am the sun shining victoriously over the night
I am the face you caress in your time of love
I am the hand you squeeze when you are scared
I am the one you hug when you are joyful
I am your love
I am the independent woman before you
I am the one who has survived their hate
I am not the "lady" sipping her tea
I am the strong, independent woman God made
I AM ME
Ah, lonely woman watching
the rising of the full moon,
which gives off intense brightness...
you seem a phantom!
Trees are stately sentinels
who protect you from danger,
but they too need to be protected
from the foul weather!
Ah, lonely woman why wait?
All you'll find is tiny stars
that surround the oval moon...
oh, what hope is there?
Snow has already fallen,
the cold wind will freeze your tears!
Oh, only spring can melt them
when sunshine returns!
A whistle blown
Vigilance escorted silence
Stillness plagued the distance
A woman sewing
Sat on her rocking chair; swaying
She looked out the window
And realized the sudden billow
She smiled wittingly
And continued sewing quickly
But, a memory hit her head
Where she drifted into the past…
A lake stood by her side
A breeze made her rule the world
Leaves fell to the ground
As they willingly bowed
A glimpse was sent to scan
Nature’s new fan…
The glimpse returned with a letter in its hand
Revealing the visitor’s sincere stand…
“Hello dearest one,
My leave was necessary then
For I had to rest
Yet, I woke up last night
And realized that I missed you a lot
I come today as a visitor knocking on your door
Hoping you’d invite me in to your house once more
A knock awoke the woman back to the present
She looked down at her hand with deep intent…
She held the sewn gift tightly
And moved towards the door tenderly
She smiled when she saw her dear friend once more
Knocking on her door
“Hello dear one,” said the woman
“Hello Nature,” said her friend
“Do come in Winter,” said Nature
And laid the scarf she’d sewn on her shoulders…
A man and woman
Lived side to side
A tree and English house
A pen is found on former’s hand
That knows no fetterings
His tales are based on happiness
A simple life with a tree
While all the while the woman sighs
The binds of residency
She brings her ladder down to him
Slowly down the tree
To invite him into her bleak
And somehow make him stay
The scarcity of the man’s life it seems
To be her serenity
And sadly so, she is declined
By the man who bears her love
A tear then falls to the saddened house
Accentuating the depression
A drop, five drops and a shower
As the skies sang with her sadness
The sky that longed the woman’s touch
Has decided how he could love her
The hardened tree falls at the man
In solemnity he was crushed
To which befalls the irony
Her then desire was to be gone
Two bodies felled to the silent ground
The woman and the man’s
An oak that fell at storm’s command
A crime of love it seems
Love lost, unreturned and forever gone
Longings torn from the hearts
The Truth is the Gift of Gods Word
for it's understanding the habitation has stirred
softly upon spirit we listen to it's call
comprehension to it's voice like a seed is small
Can you understand the wise man's riddle
apprehend interpretation the narratives trail
from beginning to end surround the middle
without understanding it's Truth you may fail
Upon the Truth are your heavens fixed
the hearing upon earth with lies are mixed
to many have reached a state of complacency
the cares of this life has choked ability
You lead upon paths unknown
a flight those having wings have flown
I tell you upon the rise of each day
that you must lead and show us the way
Oh Shepherd like a lamb you guide me
for I am lost to the flock without thee
My Lord and my God you have called us out
faith in you but confidence in self do doubt
With every gesture you affirm the way
yet evermore before me do my sins lay
I look around upon those I do see
whose lives are worth much more than me
The seventh day Jehovah has blessed
where mankind will enter into his rest
abundance of joy will fill the earth
as Gods Kingdom has given birth
The fruit of her labor is worldwide
she will wipe the tears her children have cried
Gods woman has brought forth Life
she will train the children remove their strife
You are God from the womb of my mother
have preserved me from violence of brother
your handmaiden as captive I serve
given more than anyone here deserve
I listen to the music of your call
understand I grace given since fall
for to live is Christ and to die gain
and within the hand of your Love remain
Forsake me not when I reach that hour
frail woman in mankind has not power
give me courage so I don't therein cower
for I have beheld the future from your tower
Oh my gentle Lord your path holds no discord
our seas turned to glass when we do as asked
neath your wisdom do kneel as truth you reveal
all thinking given you and insight given true
Hold me close and in your arms
for hear I do the trumpets alarms
you have signified my death
for those you love I give my breath
Hold my hand on the path you take
for I am weak and easily brake
a thing that is soft and frail
for those you love like Lord impale
Now I know the path to you
by example your loved showed true
willing I am to give you my life
like anointed Son did for wife
source JOHN 3:16 Romans 12:1-2
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
A man falls in love with a godess,
He writes down his tale
For all those who read it will know
How much he loved her:
"She is that woman
The woman I know, The woman I love
That woman that angels touched at birth
Waiting now to take her to heaven
Where she belongs
Roses and flowers shrink
As she harmonically swifts by
Trying to hide their shame
Of not matching such beauty
That of my beautiful
Mirrors weep at the sight of her
Oceans rage with their tidal waves
Begging for her reflection in its waters to stay
For the divinity of her
All beauty hails!
She holds the key
To all life's secrets
And the deepest of the deep
Forever fail to look in her eyes
Compared to a Summer's day, not she
Nor Winter, nor Autumn, nor Spring
She blocks the sun
And collects tears from the moon
Worlds and planets collide
Romance of a poem
Loyalty of songs and letters
The symphony of love
She is the meaning of a pearl
In an empty shell called life
Beauty seen, only by those beautiful
Her bedazzling perfection crucifies them
The boiling blood of jealousy
Envy her, and turn into stone
A heart too strong to regard pathetic thoughts
The sky obeys her feelings
Changing the weather to suit her mood
The calm breeze of her exhale
The stars shine to her respect
And the moon tells of her tales
Leaves whistle her name
And sing it do the nightingales
Birds of the morning chirp it too
While the stars spell it in the sky
My beautiful! Oh my beautiful!
A shame it must be to live amongst
Those that do not know beauty
And those that emotions fail
Do not grieve my beautiful
You are the queen, the swan of love
All the poets have aligned
To write you poems and rhymes
Do not fear to shine your grace
My beautiful queen with a million face
The shinning dove, sings of your love
Hearts turned gold, of those she touched
Infront of her all disappears
Infront of her all becomes mere
She in no human, nor an angel
She is the godess of love and everything between"
I am a woman embracing the moment
Standing silhouetted against the morning sun
A majestic mountain visible in the distance
Time passes as flowers blossom
River sounds rise on the breeze
In a wondrous place on earth
Where everything has its place, in its place
Under the willow flowers drift hidden by shadows
Bird’s, joyfully singing
Sunflowers nodding hello
I call my favorite place
Silenced by the sight in solitude, a perfect vision
As time withers away painful memories
A calmness that fills the air surrounds me, a moment of peace
Now I have no fears as I freely breathe in new life
Standing silhouetted against the morning sun
I am a woman embracing the moment
I call my favorite place
A VIP while making pee
looks like a not-quite VIP.
Spread high and wide against the noonday sun
The jacaranda tree displays its mauve foliage
All nature knows that August has finally come
Students on their way back again to college
On the ground beneath the generous tree
The old woman selling the bags of maize
Out of school children are running free
A flock of goats on the long acre graze
European man and woman on the road
How are you shouts the native child
Old man on bicycle with heavy load
Dusty clothes all worn and soiled
Coloured plumaged birds flit here and there
Darting in and out through perfumed leaves
The happy chirping is their daily prayer
The tranquil air their message receives
Windy Autumn is now about to fade away
And leave behind a flowerless silent tree
We had some pleasure if only for a day
And know that beauty can make us free
Elaelana- A Nymph In the Forest
Inspired by Charles Amable Lenoir's painting, "A Nymph In the Forest"
Elaelana, forest goddess, kneels beside the water lilies
Picking dainty, gem-like flowers to adorn her crown of hair;
Borrowed gems from Naphesai, her lovely sister of the daisies,
Flow'rs that thrive in shady woodlands, by the streamlet floating there.
Dressed for nymphean starlit dances in a dress of flowing creamrose;
Flawless slender arms upraised to rearrange the sable strands
Trailing from her Grecian features, pearly white against the gleamrose
Of silent lips, a little pressed, like rosebuds' tightknit ruby bands.
Ready now, so tall and stately, shadowlike drifts thro' the forest,
Joined at length by Mylesia, and her sister, Naphesai:
Elaelana, Mylesia, Naphesai, the sweetest, fairest
Threesome ever seen or heard that sang the nymphish lullabies.
I lay myself out
on the window sill
basking in the sun's golden glow
I am still
and dip my hand
in the sun's yellow rays
hoping to catch a piece of warmth.
Yet the window is ice
and my heart is cold
my fingers are blue
and wrinkled and old.
My numb digits tingle,
with the urge to break free
and feel more than just a chill.
I press my palms up against the glass
and recall a memory
that occurred long in past
of a man and woman sitting beside
a pink cherry tree
with all their time to bide.
A lover's pair meet
in gentle passion
but upon closer look one sees tears
on her cheeks
and could swear that the flowers on
the cherry tree die
and the air has turned to cold.
Holding on tight she grasps
yet he pulls and slips
through her fingers like sand:
the tiny grains one can never
he leaves her all alone.
The woman is torn
that is plain to see
she stands frozen still
under that pink cherry tree
with her heart in her hands
she feels it start to crack
and as it breaks she turns
Then the flowers are gone,
the wind starts to blow
and as the snow falls
her tears freely flow
like a brook down her face
until they, like her heart,
finally, solidly, freeze and stop.
I remember that day
every last single second
can't ever forget
for my memory beckons.
It calls my name and
my broken heart
and were not for ice
I would fall apart.
Perhaps it would be
better to heat
the heart that is frozen
it might offer release.
Yet I remain a hard sculpture
of ice crystal clear
and my heart remains terribly broken
I do not know?
Nymphs float lazily in the still water of the fountain
Frog less lily pads found in their beds. There is silence
In the garden, a sleepy calm passing through everything.
Above the rimmed water, lips of fish speak nothing evil,
Nothing pure trickles from the mouth of the mosaic.
The girl, her back to mouth and lips, is none the wiser.
Her eyes smile, as she lay her head down among the wolves
Their pelts a heady mixture of honey and vinegar in the garden
Half- verdant, golden brilliance. The sun watches her as she gazes,
Calmly and sweet in the garden on top of mustard and green.
Swathed in peaches and mangoes. Tired from too much play.
On the ground in front of her lay dead peacock feathers.
The rushes wait behind the marble ring, a silent chorus.
The finale is coming. They wait for her eyes to close,
Shutting off the princess' glory fro garden 'round.
Vivid contrasts emanate lively hues
from the brilliancy of colors,
to radiate skin, hair and eyes;
and these are the wishes of all lovers!
He's a handsome man in a dark suit well-pressed,
and she's a beautiful woman in a scarlet dress;
he doesn't like ladies with flashy clothes,
and she only likes guys with ripped shirts!
Amelia fascinates her partner with her adorable smile,
Riccardo's blue eyes see a woman no man can resist;
and with his sexy eyes and killer's looks makes his conquest;
how exciting she seems and how happy she is to feel alive!
Their cheeks occasionally touch as kisses of a soft wind,
passion arises, but the dance must end with a standing ovation;
they're the only perfect pair who are rehearsing and getting recognition,
other dancers are getting impatient and are dying to come in.
The violin and piano begin to play in full harmony, " Un Ballo In Maschera,"
and all the guests come out gracefully to join the masquerade ball without timidity...
wearing luxurious and colorful costumes of the legendary Venetian Era;
and they elegantly dance on the diamond-shaped floor, trying to gess each other's identity.
The chorus adapts a moderato tone as wished by the conductor's baton, as the harmonic tones
accompany the high pitched soprano, who suddenly bursts out in a hissy scene;
she shouts, "My Riccardo has betrayed me! Take his mask off, and let him see me!"
And while the melody is embellished by the harmony, in anguish, she discords her vivid notes.
Entered in Brian's Strand contest, " Colours "
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Give to me the good land
sweet earth and soil
the sun the shade and her toil
Put me back in natures hand
the cycle of things that I understand
Stand beneath the light of the stars
and my face to warm in the sun
pick herbs in summer showers
and hold you firmly in my hand
the joining of woman and man
Feel the crisp breeze of the bay
and accomplish the work of the day
lay by your side every night
without a struggle or fight
Let the warmth of my soul dispell
your fear and your anger quell
Trust my soul to work for your good
and all between us is understood
Let us run the river beside
and in the woods play seek and hide
Sing to the children our song
that we should all get along
To the cycle we all understand
Belonging to woman and man
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
I wish that my life was just you and me
Lasting forever just like an old oak tree
Day after day stretching so far
But friends who you think, some leave their scars
As time it goes by and the wounds they do heal
The past is now gone and we are still real
The tree as it grows it gives off it's seed
The ground it does take as a woman in need
Holding and feeding giving new life
Just as a woman just as my wife
And the tree it does spread as it's young stretches up
Just like a bitch protecting her pups
The reason for life the reason we're here
To give to our children a world without fear
It's been a long time Lady, since I've met a woman like you.
With Sexy written down the curve of your hip, whispering to me secrets of your thigh.
With Hungry kisses, and a gaze that searches for hints of midnight fantasies.
Powerful lips, that when upturned twist my insides into a lustful knot.
A Dance that calls my hands to wander across skin demanding to be felt.
Touch like memory, reminding me I AM a man.
It has been a long, long time, lady...
Since a woman has pulled me from my slumber, traveling across the night sky,
touching my dreams with forceful inspiration.
And you leave me with only this verse to satisfy, my my my...it has been a long time.
A woman can die for someone.
When she is in Love.
Is a man also has same spirit?
Or he is an opportunist
When finds another beauty,
Turns quickly on other way.
Naturally, a woman likes her pace,
She loves her own set up,
She identifies a man’s qualities
Appreciates them to encourage
As those are her prides.
She likes her secrecy,
She knows how to develop relations.
If she is in anger,
Someone deceives her,
Or trying to snatch her likes,
She never spared him.
She is a natural barrier,
Stops a growing unity not to choose,
Unqualified person for a good post,
When he doesn’t deserve for that.
She admits that she is not secured,
Without her own man, she loves him.
But a man never thinks as it is,
He is not protected without her love.
She has natural sense to identify,
The hidden qualities are in a man.
She loves them, support to develop,
She is always investigator,
Searching new methods of enjoyment.
Her satisfaction is only a Motto.
She loves her praise and appreciation.
She can do remarkable,
Unexpected, when she is in happy mood.
She can develop a society as civil nation.
But a man can’t do it alone.
Because a personable man has no attitudes,
To search out her wonderful hidden qualities,
He praises her when she has natural beauty.
He needs more intellect or dedications,
To read out a natural chapter of her beauties,
She is a good wife,
Good manager and good partner.
She is in this position to reduce,
Extra burden of a man,
That wanders him always.
He can save him with someone’s hand.
Without a woman, man can’t identify
His physically and mentally potentials.
I love the way his chain sit
I love his New York accent
He's so laid back
And is so cute when rockin' a du-rag
He's so real
He's the kind of guy who knows how to make a woman feel
He's so independent
The way it appears, he must be heaven sent
If it's a sin to feel like this
Then my spot in heaven doesn't exist
All my past relationships were daunt
But this one is exaclty what I want
It's my time to have someone who loves me for me
I'm not being selfish, cause that's what every girl needs
Girls, when you feel how I feel,
Your feelings will never again be concealed
It may feel too real
But it'll then be too late because your love has already been revealed
I don't have any regrets about meeting this guy
Because his love is good, and that I can't deny
I no longer have to look for love anymore
Because he came along and is what I'm looking for
If this is what God has in store for me to explore
This, I will not ignore
I hope this love will be forever
And I pray for joy and happiness in our endeavor
I have found the man that every woman dreams of
But most of all, I have found my lifelong love