I am a heart full of love
that shook the pilars that held her colussium up
her heart filled with sorrow,
I swing such fury toward her heart and soul
she cowards away from me,
in fear of falling in love and not knowing what is in black
and not searching what is in the light of pure white.
I am a heart full of love,
she runs and takes the long dirt road,
through the raging mountains of the quiet countryside,
as the meadows of lilacs slowly die when Spring comes,
the blooming of the rose,
like the blooming of my heart,
a blossom on a cherry tree fall and harbour in the wintertime.
I swing toward her, she falls in fear of wanting attention and love.
Lost in the midnight twilight,
the flaming torch guides her through the dark holes of meaningless souls.
and like a frightened hummingbird,
she flees away from the secrets of falling in love.
A heart full of love ready to love,
it is diffcult to feel and to show,
but as if a rose that blooms in Springtime
my love is ready to bloom.
Pettles lay along a darkened atmosphere
lit up only with four wax candles
a portrait of a woman hung over a mantel piece
in honour of my one true love.
As the twilight shine though my bedroom window,
I show a heart full of love,
to take and to hold for eternity.
And as she slowly moves forward,
she takes me home with her,
and opens her chest and shows me her heart
with a glass of red wine and charming cigarette.
She sheads tears of pain and sorrow on my broud shoulder,
I curise her hair, silk laced hair,
shining against the twilight and the moonlit sky.
My heart full of love,
so divine, so original
a one of a kind.
We make love in the midst of the twilight,
as my dream girl is now reality and my pain is no more,
her pain is no more.
Too show such love makes a man feel free
and his soul lighter.
She holds him there,
as the sun rises over the mountains.
The birds sing a tune of cheerfulness,
and they talk about everything beautiful and kind,
that is still left in this cruel and empty hearted world.
Romance and love shared
with a heart full of love,
smile and kiss upon smooth lips,
feel me against your tight body,
and love me till the morning
when Blue eyed Death is staring us in the face.
and we go with him,
and play a game of risk,
and together forever,
onto a diffrent world
we shall love each other forever,
for you and I both have a heart full of love.
He who weathers the swirling black feathers
Like a kill laid out by the skinner
One ninety-eight eyes
Across the night skies
With a story to tell the town spinner
And the Old Woman knows
It takes ninety-nine crows
To serve up a man Sunday dinner.
Elayne will reach the mountain spring
fresh water in the jug to pour,
the nightingales are there to sing,
untamed her feelings lonely soar.
She fills her heart with music notes,
her voice will cause the leaves to stir,
for lovers' pain sole antidotes
are songs of birds and nightly myrrh.
And as her lyrics rise to heav'n,
and render modes of the soft wind,
her palms caress his name engrav'n
on her betrothal golden ring.
He left her world and promised that
one Sunday they would meet in church;
a framed old shot of surface matte
and daily trails her glances search.
Elayne of springs, on rocks awaits,
and recreates her wedding feasts;
the wraiths around her dance with fates,
for eons play in cotton mists.
As one of them stares in her eyes,
she gropes her heart because she loves;
upon the rocks mentates she nice,
her golden ring and two white doves.
© Giorgio V., 07-22-2012
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
She lets out her hand that holds the bird feed
Inviting birds to come and take a bite
There’s one brave soul that does come on over
And he feasts on the seed that she carries
Then more and more of them come on to her
Some sit on her shoulders, others sit near
In her other hand sits more feed for them
And they flock there as well to eat some more
They eat with a flourish, making a mess
Seed falls onto the ground, birds eat there too
She’s surrounded totally by these fowl
But unafraid she is, loving each heart
These birds are her friends, always there for her
Never do they judge her or frown on her
They are always glad to see her come by
They predict her coming and are waiting
And she is constantly there on the dot
Same time each day she comes with her bird feed
Wanting to share it with her lovely friends
She’s mesmerized by their tenacity
They’re persistent to try and get their food
To survive, that is why they are focused
And they work at it good pecking the food
Surely she loves to share her life with them
Nothing will ever tear the birds from her
They’ll live forever in her tender heart
Even when she is gone and has passed on
The birds will still look for her to come there
I saw a little bird sitting in a tree,
I could see him he could see me,
He pecked at an apple and sang,
And through woods his song rang,
Happy he had anther little peck,
I smiled as the apple went down his neck,
It flapped its wings but did not fly,
He watched another bird float by,
He turned around and did a dance,
So I did the same just by chance,
We both waltzed around the tree,
I flapped my arms he laughed at me,
A man was watching close by
He asked if he could join in and try,
So two men and a bird wriggled,
A woman joined in and she jiggled,
Another woman and her pet,
She was good the best yet,
Then everyone in the park,
Strutted their stuff until dark,
As each left they gave a wave,
It's my first time at a rave.
Maya met her Socrates
public examination of her life
and writing down her hypotheses -
female blackness a caged bird's life
singing often, singing she arrived
from uncivil lessons on civil rights
to stand-up straight and thrive
in beauty - with rhythm besides
Marguerite Johnson is dead
but Angelou will arise
to see life wondrous instead
with dark-brown soulful eyes
mourn not that her life is passed
celebrate that it was expressed
© goodguysoul 2014-05-28
outside the picture window
which provided pleasure to the
whose days of raising their own
were long gone in the past,
a mother blue jay had two babies &
the couple watched the whole thing
for the nest had been built
in the lilac tree
which had been planted years ago
right beneath the window.
one day, the red squirrel,
whom the family dog had been
chasing for such a long time,
the two had become something of
a morning novelty,
had climbed up the tree &
killed one of the babies while
its mother wasn’t home.
when the couple discovered that the
baby had been killed,
as some remnants were left which could
be seen from the window,
they were quite distraught to say the least
the death of the little bird kept them up
late at night for the next few nights.
while the old woman pleaded with “god,”
proclaiming “why! why! why!” when
she got up in the middle of the night,
as if one of her own children had died,
the old man told her that it had been
evolution which dealt with the matter---
mother bird had not built the nest
high enough, and so the red squirrel
had been able to get at the new babies.
the old woman pleaded with her husband,
saying that red squirrels didn’t even eat meat!
the old man said that they did,
she just hadn’t seen them, or perhaps the
squirrel just never got so lucky---
“they got to get their protein somewhere,”
then she went on saying that the squirrel
could get that from nuts &
so it went on & on.
after a few days went by
the large rat traps in the garage coupled with
the large wads of peanut butter used by the
to lure in the squirrel,
did in fact succeed in killing it &
the old woman then felt justified.
‘“god” wanted him dead,” she said &
the old man, carrying the trap with the squirrel’s
neck broken & bloody, ready to hurl the whole
thing in the woods remarked with a smile,
evolution dealt with the matter.”