While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
I wrapped all my tears, to see you smile.
you are the best, always by my side.
I tell you my feelings will get you crying,
you must think I’m out of my mind.
You don’t know, what I know,
all the angels let me go.
We were born to teethe and die,
you will grow to be so fine.
Fall in love, feel your softer side,
Remember me when life is kind.
When you go, let me know,
don’t walk away like the world and go.
Life is rough and the world unkind,
fight them down and you will be fine.
The truth of live is a brutal sight,
make no mistakes, you can learn from mine.
You have a strong heart, you are unique
I treasure times when you smile at me.
Live the life, I could not find,
be there for me, when I say goodbye.
Reflections of imperfections
have shown me a way
that I can move mountains
through my power of faith
even though I can't see him
I know he is real
through the power of prayer
and a Love that I feel
It's growing inside me
like a flower in bloom
shall I reveal my powers
or is it too soon
I am reading the signs
through my darkness I find
a reason for belief in
the light of mankind
that I know shall overcome
the greatest of odds
the Love I seek amazes me
especially through the flaws
because now I am inspired
through the hero's that bring
my throne through the darkness
on which I return on as your King.
Love is a wonder
shared by one another
it's the only reason
I'm not six feet under
Love in which I believe
in a will to sustain
I give back to life, now
in dormant states of pain
The power of Love
may not alone be enough
locked inside my dreams
escape only from above
higher than any human being
has ever gone before
I must have evolved
rise above hate, great once more
My Father taught me wisdom
I am imprisoned no longer
now an beast not of burden
I am no lion, I am stronger
on my shoulder sits twin dragons
long awaiting the day
evil forces come forth to
take what Love is left, away
A Hero of Love light
are what the world needs
angels, not demons
exist where ever you believe
follow your heart's direction
and you shall achieve
objects of affection
rid of materialistic greed
My bright energy
has awakened to a fire
never consuming the source
as the flames just grow higher
that is the desire
of a product we call Love
Fear, the counterpart
what I was once made of
I am slowly learning
how to win when my peace
is harder to sharpen
so I have given my pen leave
the sword has its uses
I must say I believe
to vanquish the evil
in the minds too diseased
to serve any purpose
except their own selfish ones
tomorrow a new day
in the clarity of the sun
where we two are now one
and one done now does
bring about a great change
lit by the righteousness of Love.
“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth). Well … today is mine. I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!). Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!). One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!
It is truly amazing: Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”! Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books. But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!) Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.
For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”. That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging. Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured. We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.
There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight. We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.
It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”. If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.
Our remaining decisions will be: Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.
Time is a great cure
For what I'm not sure
Time is only for this minute
If you live another a cure is in it!
Life is time and living it is the cure
Working is the blood of being secure
Money, money, money needs no friend around
Good health is times only sound!
So, P.S. My friends have the Time of your life!
The Silver Scribe
He is my fortress and my strength
His love he has proven at length
In times of sickness and in times of health
He has remained open not stealth.
In youth we loved passionately
With children we loved affectionately
In middle age we loved calmly
With age we love patiently.
Many decades we leave behind us
Yet a few decades remain ahead of us
We are free to say what is on our mind
Knowing we’ve survived the test of time.
When money we had little of
When children were ill
When we were hurt by family or friends –
When one was ill, the other thrived
we held on
so neither was ever left behind.
This is the legacy we leave
Not of a love that is divine
But of a love that has ridden the roller coaster ride
I simply love being me
for I am so good at everything
step into my city and they
will tell you who is King
one day when I am hungry
I will swallow everything
then and only then shall I
inherit the stuff I dream
even then I promise
not to settle for satisfaction
at any instant half a second
I could spring into full action
so go against me? please,
you do not even measure
up to half of the goodness
that I hold tight like my treasure
still spreading rumors about me
to try and destroy my life
can't believe I let myself get beat by
a stripper and my self-intended knife
try and say I'm gay
even though we both know that isn't the truth
just ask any woman I been with
if they ever needed proof
they'll say I was the cream of the crop
as they took it all night knowing
I just may never stop
I own the status of a legend
now what you got left to say
when I bring it twenty-four seven?
SHE DRIVES ME UP THE WALL
She drives me up the wall like a slave-driver
O yes, she does ! but even though she may wield
the rod in her hand ever so threateningly at me
At the slightest suspicion of insubordination,
Leaving me cowering with fear, I love her just the same,
Perhaps much more than I ‘ve ever loved anybody else before!
I may ‘ve become certifiable as a result, who knows,
But whatever the case may be,
pray don’t judge me harshly until you ‘ve heard me out.
I love her for the same farcical reason that Socrates
Ostensibly loved that cantankerous woman Xantippe.
By temperament and upbringing, I find a woman who
Stands up to a man much more appealing than one
Who’s obsequious and complaisant!
What happened to me, therefore, was no accident but a
quantum leap; I had no control what so ever over the turn of events
That got us this far in our fledgling relationship.
Ever since I met her, my life, which had hitherto been
Fairly peaceful and uneventful, has, all of a sudden,
Taken a dramatic turn.
And like a minx, she has so turned my head around
I can’t tell for certain whether I am coming or I am going!
Suffice to say I’ve been acting up silly and rather foolishly
For a grown up person (I don’t know whether or not I still
Have any semblance of an ego left, what with this
Attractive je ne sais quoi I find so irresistible about her!)
Oh no, don’t tell me I’ve been doing this all for the
Wrong reasons ! or that I am laying it on thick.
It’s only me who knows exactly what I am feeling.
Besides, I am not talking morals here, I am talking
About what it feels like to love somebody to a fault.
If she did walk out on me now I can guarantee you
That would certainly be the death of me!
I am sure that’s not what you would all like
To see happen to me just yet unless of course
You’ve been spoiling for my death while pretending to be my friends.
When all else is said and done, I’d rather be
Henpecked than let go of this maverick specimen of womankind
Who has lodged herself in my life uninvited,
Making it her home, and has since then never failed
To drive me up the wall like a slave-driver with her rod.
Not only is she good sport, but like a morning
Star she’s such fun to be with, I promise you!
Reflections in the mirror
were getting scary
I could not carry
the weight of my pain
it almost took my life
to learn to love again
for I have made a friend
somewhere along my long lost way
I hope that I helped him
just a fraction of how he helped me
maybe that single thought
is what finally gave me my peace
enough to release so much
Now I am not afraid
to walk where the streets are hot
for I thrive in Hell's kitchen
where the devil stirs my pot
for I now have him quiet tame
I sacrificed my dragons
at the alter of my name
and now you are my slaves
any time I need
I'll call upon my superhero's
to come and rescue me
like my Saint Toni
who swept me off that bridge
and showed my how a death can be
the greatest reason to live
for she was the seed to grow my Eden
then a man from a foreign land
gave me something in myself to believe in
the magik of Love.
A full moon night
to my delight
what is so wrong
with doing what's right
nothing is right
after so long
no use in complaining
time to move on
The Dream Water one day
might take me away
farther from the comfort
I float on my back
then shut my eyes
my body now sinking
into ocean arms open wide
Now swallow your son
back to his nature
when he is no longer
needed to stay here
the next generation
are dooming themselves
they need my experience
to guide them through hell
Why should I bother
on my own, I strive through
I turn my back on the thought
of bothering to save you
alone in this world
my, is it spacious
I'm finally smiling,
never so gracious.
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
Show me who you are and i shall paint out broken columns on the valleys of her back as if such figure is un-common
i have found no beauty bending as the vines that are her hair and the frailty of man upon her back is what she bares
bleed her body for the harvest let them feast upon her soul for the nurishment of mother is leaps beyond so bold
she is like the flower growing in the deepest of dark forests,amongst the ivy and hemlock but her skin is much too porous
to concern herself with games that tantalize the men, as they marry on crusade it is her children that she tends
sheath your swords with her ambition and tip your arrows with her will, craft your armour from her strength and in the battle you will kill
come now children from the pasture and lay each upon her side, suckle gently at your mother although theirs pain she does not hide
though the water leaks from rooftops her leaves are thick and block the rain, as the water level rises cling to her branches with no shame
she is the stone upon the beach, once a mountain pound and breached
yet still her disposition clear to love her children that are near
inspired by Roots Frida Kahlo, 1907-1954
Husband and wife sit across from each other,
eyes meeting over that old kitchen table.
No words are spoken.
A girlish smile breaks over the wife’s face,
a grin follows across her husbands.
Faces they each know so well,
a thousand stories could be told.
Memories flood the quiet between them,
going back oh so many years.
Time reeling them both back into youthful days
when a lifetime was stretched before them.
Remembering the first time their eyes met,
the husband could still see that spark in her eyes.
A first date the wife waiting for his arrival,
she remembers being swept off her feet by him
at the doorstep.
Husband and wife take another step down
that lane of memories.
that first kiss the wife can still feel it,
just like it happened yesterday.
Tender when he held her face,
gently in his hands, so sweet was that moment.
She still remembers the words he murmured,
“I could love you for the rest of my life.”
That first kiss led them to a dance floor.
When they danced their first dance,
holding each other tight in each other’s arms.
It was as if it was only the two of them on that dance floor.
The husband and wife dance down memory lane.
To meet each other’s parents a most important moment.
To know of family and kinship.
The wave of memories takes them to when,
the husband was before her on one knee.
So humbled was he,
asking the wife to build a life with him.
The wife had cried in delighted surprise.
She could remember her joy, at the promise of a life together.
He still brought joy to her life.
Traveling down memory lane together,
to the alter they went.
Where each pledged solemn vows, in earnest to each other.
To last them all the days of their life.
The husband and wife could hear the ring of their children’s laughter,
greeting them with children of their own.
This anniversary is one of many.
That first look.
The first kiss.
A first dance.
The first I love you is where it began, all those years ago.
Where it has led to is the husband and wife sitting at that old kitchen table,
gazing into each other’s faces.
Not a word needs to be spoken.
“She was mine” was all he thought
His spark was gone, forever had seemed so long
The gleam in his eye, dulled as days went by
He’d been trying hard to carry on, she was two months gone
He could no longer cry, all life was now, was a lie
His sadness growing deeper, as the world continued to fly by
His girl was gone now, his reason and purpose no longer around
For years he cared, he couldn’t show, but those actions spoke louder than any words
she would’ve known
His poor tired soul began to appear on his face
His heart numb from losing the one love that who with, his life had begun
Now it was his time to start, for in his heart, he knew……
They wouldn’t be far apart.
Dedicated to the memory of my Grandparents
William Lee Neeland Sr. 02/22/27 – 07/10/04
Pauline Sue Neeland 07/27/46 - 12/24/03
with all my love, #2
The darkness of light
impossible to see
the pain and the lies
you reach and get burned
this is my disease
nature of the beast
Suddenly my light
is taken away
my darkness was revealed
taking me as slave
when all I ever wanted
was for someone to say
please stop, for me
or enter an early grave
Now face to face
with all of my demons
how can I fight them
if I don't want to beat them
until the reason
arrives, then I shine
a little at first
but that small thing, is mine
The den of ten thieves
come up with a plan
a whole set of new lies
that every single man
cannot resist believing
it's seeming to be
that a horrific ending
is just what I need
Then all of the sudden
my small shine
and with that virtue
my face comes to life
I would never hurt you
please, know this to be
yet no one believes me
this curse grows like a tree
I hate my helpless fate
why can't I make
a new life for me
that no one can take
why can't I escape
a prison not for me
for years I accept this
tired sense of defeat
The small shine
barely intact, inside
until Saint Anger
starts to burn me, alive
I find I'm set off
by my wrong, senseless self
until I am talking
to no one, in Hell
So I pick up my pen
power to create
a new world for me
where I design my escape
in my invisible state
the Devil don't notice
that one of his children
is no longer hopeless
I stop all my madness
by power of pen
for years my sword
drew nothing but sin
the yin and the yang
both helped me to find
that I'm no longer afflicted
when darkness lights
my bright shine.
The mind cannot grasp its beauty's
even though it count the colour's
just like rainbows _ pretty's
the heart accepts its glamour's
your heart accepts its glamour's
till the sky falls from the heavens
a conundrum so candour
with tears from the eyes of a raven
adding radiance to life's breath
saying goodbye to hurt and lust
love that is stronger than death
calls us back _ when we're lost.
THE MONTH OF MY BIRTH
The sound of June sounds like nothing but June.
Sweet! like the last drop of fine wine dripping from the warm tongue of a lover.
Leaving you wanting more for the remaining 29 days.
The sound of June to me is like music from 7 harps and a grand piano.
That sink my soul into the timelessness of the moment.
Junes come and go like rain.
Like porcelains leaving circles on the table.
Memorable photographs left hanging on the thin wooden
walls between love and hate; pleasure and pain;
lessons and mistakes; friendships, fights.
Coincidences; serendipity; synchronicity; light.
Epiphanies; truth; lies.
The sound of June breaks my heart.
Cos it reminds me of a little midget king plucking sunflowers to his mama.
Wearing a big permanent smile like the world would end if he didn't.
Now he's all hardened; like ice in a cold world.
No room for big hearts like his in the city.
Time's changed. But will change again.
It's still a beautiful world; With beautiful people.
Beautiful minds. Beautiful things.
Beautiful songs. Poetry; words.
Beautiful nights; Places.
For the sound of June sounds like nothing but June.
Sweet! like the last drop of fine wine dripping from the warm tongue of a lover.
Leaving you wanting more for the rest of the year.
How often I’ve thought , I’ll just stay in bed...
But that’s for sick folks my mother said
So I’ll just linger a little while...
And let my memories make me smile..
My mother was strong and rather petite.....
And my father so strict...and yet so sweet..
They knew how difficult life could be...
And passed that on to my siblings and me....
As they had experience throughout their life..
With all the usual stress and strife..
And the pair of them taught us all so well....
Though the way we act sometimes you couldn’t tell..
The lessons we learn from our parents you see...
Are what makes us special like you and me..
And as we grow and make our own way...
Leaving our homeland so far away....
Years later returning to the place where we were born...
To scatter their ashes amongst the Rose garden thorn...
Was across the sea we had to go..
The memories were already starting to flow...
As we stood outside of the garden gate....
We heard Mother’s voice, so articulate...
“ tea’s ready “....and Dad said I hope it’s Earl Grey...
It was then we realized this was the day..
As they were gone and you can never go back..
So we must face the fact....
Our mind plays the movies in our head...
So with that in mind .. guess I’d better get out of bed.....
earl grey tea
I do not know?
I'm really tired.
Sorry that my creative juices are not flowing today.
Today is not the day.
I'm just ready to hit the hay.
Days upon days, it seems that I lag to say: Have a good day!
Perhaps tomorrow will be a different kind of day,
where we sing songs about how Love Is Here To Stay?
We should all be thankful how we live an ordinary life, almost every single day.
Not counting the extra hours of sleep, especially on a holiday.
What day is it today?
Do you remember the phrases, quotes, lyrics, and cute things we say?
I know I'm asking much, but please hear the words I'm about to say:
Will you be the one for me, the one who will love me on that special day?
Be my amor on Valentine's Day? Spend the rest of your life with me almost everyday?
Experience all the joy and sadness whatever comes our way?
Come What May? Or do you want to change the date to May?
But here you lay. In the Stone Garden I always pray, that we will soon meet, together, forever, celebrating A New Day.
There once was a banana
he did not have a nana
until he got a name
john was his name yay
Beautiful you are to my soul
no matter what the day may bring
You take your hands and kiss my tears
and there by your feet I will stay
Just to be filled with you
and have your compassion in my eyes
I bend myself down to give to you a drink
a drink of my soul
For you have already touched that place
my fiber, the very life of me
carrying me to my majestic sweet fountain
my air is fresher as I rest on your unclouded mountain
it's there my mind is made clear and you are priceless
Its the way I blossom and sprout in my soul
you give me reason to love beyond hope
for you are that special drink...
the drink in my soul.
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS L. H. ANDRESS
Hit the books...see stars ON MAR'S SWEET...ask Me!
Class is RIGHT or LEFT...or WRONG-TEST...don't Ask-Me!
Hit the books...see stars ON STAR'S SWEET...ask Me!
Class is RIGHT or LEFT...or WRONG-TEST...don't Ask-Me!
When Summer's done...just-for-fun...DON'T...ASK-ME!
THAT'S...when Summer's done...just-for-fun...DON'T...ASK-ME!
Kid...BE-TIGHT...Ma's-ALRIGHT...do-right (a man)...an-I'LL-BE-THERE
Poet's Own Notes:
Do you realize the dream Steve Jobs had still lives?
Steve Jobs really IS MISSED...do you realize that?
Aarmano Se JAn CHooti
Ghamo ne Aan Ghera ha
Kia mere DIl pe Bas
Sirf Tanhaiyo ka Basera ha
Our Veterans are only sent to defend
making sure our lives are in their hands.
With the absence of loved ones, they are
taught to love harder, and do not take
things for granted. Just in case they
are sent to duty and do not return
from a day of hard work...
Our Veterans, some sent to work,
get tortured by the enemy, which
is harder for him or her. Not only
within the team are crying but the
family who does not know where
they are, are also crying and
that is not surprising.
Our Veterans take courage to make
it out alive and for some people to
deprive them of credit is in the wrong.
But for them to survive, not only a man
or a woman is great Pride deserving a
pat on the back.
To save lives is to remain in mind, because
a retired Veteran could, one day, save your live.
I do not know?
My dead self in
The flowerbed, grey
As a marbleized salamander
Beneath a bleed of acorn roots
I placed the devil mask
Over the fireplace, counter
Spell so to speak.
Then came the kicker- my wife
Chopping down the tiger lilies
As I drove up the driveway
After a bad day.
Can't nobody tell me how I feel.
The way I feel this feeling.
This feeling is real yes she knows the deal.
That kiss to her forhead signed the deal.
My heart skips beat when she's around.
But when she's gone that pain is so strong.
Yes, yes, yes this love is real
Yes, yes, yes that's just how I feel.
I want her to know how I feel.
I want her to know how much she means to me.
A blessing heaven sent an angle of love
Turn my dark days to light.
Brought my heart back to life
Showed me what love love was
Showed me what love is just when I thought it
Was through God sent you what a blessing from the
Man above I never felt true love like this.
To your forhead I end this with a kiss.
Hurray! A heir has come to stay
Awaking the joy of May
Put down your feet like palm root and play
Paddle on through life’s way
Yes! It is nineteenth today
But see! History now writes his story;
In unspoken words of nostalgia allegory
Rolling up the scroll of time’s gallery
To tell generations yet unborn as tales of a fairy
How he chose not to marry; an attitude that is funny
Daring at dawn into the blind future with valour
Acquiring at noon, life’s lessons as favour
Yielding at dusk, the treasure from the wealth of nature.
The sun spills through the window’s pane
And settles upon a cherry wood cane.
And on that cane an old woman leans
As she stares out the window at trees of green.
Her mind drifts back to much younger days when
Her hair was blond from a summer's sun rays
She'd skip and sing as little girls do
When the days were long and skies were blue.
She smiles for a moment in spite of herself
and blows a kiss to the garden elf.
With a turn she shuffles toward her chair
Her days are spent most often there.
On a small wooden table by where she sits
Are cards and letters, old newspaper clips.
There’s a photo there too, young couple in love
He, in a dark suit, she, a white gown and gloves.
Her memory fades as dreams do at dawn
So few of are left, even fewer are strong.
Often she loses time and place,
in the mirror she doesn't always know the face.
It puzzles her now as she holds that gold frame
Who can they be, what is his name?
He looks like groom, and the young woman a bride
How handsome he is she thinks misty-eyed.
‘Hello my love’, a gentle kiss to her cheek.
She looks up from the photo but does not speak.
‘Our special day” he smiles and whispers to her
“The day that we wed, oh how happy we were”.
She takes a moment to let his words sink in
Another glance at the photo, the memory begins.
An evening in summer, the church was white
The violins played underneath star light.
“We married” she says and touches his face.
“We did” he replies, “You wore satin and lace.”
“We danced and we danced” has he takes her hand.
“Come dance with me now”, and helps her to stand.
He hums an odd tune no one else would know
Because he wrote it for her many years ago.
In each other’s arms they slowly sway
And in her mind she relives that day.