There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold.
This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .
This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .
It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .
money holds no value , Where you live , what you own, has no significance here .
You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you .
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use.
There is a place of beauty and Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .
In this world of Uncertainties
I’m the man that you can trust
And in my words of sincerity
That my love would never last.
And if you could only feel, what i feel for you
You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth
Like our love that tightens the rope,
Like a light that would give us hope.
As you watch the dark skies
Let me grab the moon for you,
And as I catch the bright stars
That’s the way you can see me through
As this planet turns as it always will
And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel
Hold my hand for it will make us strong
Like a wind, we will carry on
The wind blow that sings a hymn for you
For they know what does love means for the two
Love is blind, and not deaf
So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet?
In this poem with full of rhymes,
A full of love, Babe can you be mine?
I don’t expect too much from you
Why should I? If you complete my whole.
“Till death do us part” that’s what they have said
But why do struggles crash them ahead?
Don’t ask me when my love will last,
To count all of our quarrels, is that a must?
Now and Forever is all that I promise
No day dreaming and without reminiscence
As the matter of time, as the time passes by
Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :)
pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless
Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013
I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over
Taught me to fight back
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over
He gave me my stubbornness
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over
How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over
Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on
I may stumble I may fall
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over
Sabrina Niday Hansel
My Son Moon and Star ~
Approaching the celebration of his Birth
cherishing the gift I received
within weeks of conception I knew
something amazing was in Creation ~
the Stars held a party
sending me with one of their own
Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky
It was magic It was destiny taking its flight.
In love with an October full moon
drawing and painting I liked
thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
caught in a loss of time
Hours going by as choosing my color
a wittness to three falling stars
A clear night sky sparkle's
A once Famous Star was sent
inspiring the tiny child inside ~
Never a doubt in my mind at all
child bearing was worth any pain received
yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
one to cherish and hold
My Son was born the following August ~
working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year
as the set of Leverage for 3 years .
Has done a Indie movie here
In Paris it was seen and honored
coming soon filmed in Portland ~
"The House of Last Things "
awaiting the credits , you will see
1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant
My Young Lion Mans dream ~
A proud mom I watch every show and the credits
as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
My Son & Moon and Star
A name you will all know ~
Happy Birthday to my creative Son
you will exist in my heart forever~
Written by my Cousin Susan Northwood who thinks she cannot write. She wrote this poem for me. pleaser let her know that she can write very well, she is also an excellent artist. By the way, I am back from my holiday, and glad to be back with you all.
My cousin Alf.
Whilst searching on the net one day
A name jumped out on me
Peter Duggan, as he is known
My cousin, that he be.
A crazy man, a writer too
Speaks his mind, I kid not you
He loves to argue, and debate
Gossip, and trivia, he does so hate.
He wrote me emails, all the time
And many poems in rhythm, and rhyme
His words were calming, made sense to me
Helped my fears,and anxieties.
Life for him had not been kind
Bullied, beaten, and a troubled mind
But here he was, helping me
With all my anger, that He could see
As time did pass, my life got better
Thanks to him, and all his letters
Back and forth, we wrote like mad
Happy laughing, and sometimes sad.
Now here in Oz, I've come to see
My cousin, and his family
Yes he's just how I imagined
Loves all life, and writes with passion.
He argues, talks, and often shouts
Sings, and laughs, but what about?
Yes, he's blunt, and can be rude
He'll shock you too, if you're a prude
But underneath his suit of armour
There stands a man, who's met his karma
All he wants is peace in in life
No more trouble. fights and strife.
There's many souls who cannot cope
With this loud, outspoken bloke
But I know where this man is from
He says it in his words and songs.
So for me he is not Peter
Or Billy, John or Ralph
He simply is my cousin
Also known as Alf.
Written by Susan Northwood, for Peter Duggan.
O - Olive that was her first name
O - Oli, eloi, bloss her other names
O - Overall, any of these is acceptable
O - Only she prefers most her one name
L - Life come upon her by 13th of August
L - Living with her grandparents first
L - Learning she always want to pursue
L - Ladder of life she jolly began to do
I - Interested to music, books and stories
I - Indefinite reading even old histories
I - In the kitchen, She loves cooking
I - In anywhere, She is there singing
V - Victor she always strives to be
V - Vices and violence against is she
V - Vivaciously aiming to live life fullest
V - Vigorously stepping to life's hurdles
E - Each one she shares a smile
E - Even though she feels bad inside
E - Endearing, she was always told
E - Eager to explore things untold
E - Essence of a woman, she beholds
E - Extremes she tries to balance and hold
E - Even if skin and beauty folds
E - Embroidered life by God, she is called
L - Looking to be channel of blessing
L - Listening before understanding
L - Loaded not with a good tall
L - Limitless to achieve a goal
O - Onwards she always go
O - On sides and on back she forgoes
O - Opting not to forget all good
O - Omitting not of gratitude
I - In God, she always trusts
I - In real love, she believes
I - In singing and writings, she frees
I - Into her family, she spree
S - Small girl she may seem
S - Smartness, she projects not hid
S - Sweats she doesn't care to pour
S - Sincere heart that she devours
A - Adoring God, forever she will
A - Acceleration she will deal
A - Antidote to her woos is love
A - Above all is her one living God...
March 24, 2014
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
The inner and the outer,
Are dissolving fast in space.
The ominous clouds of thunder,
Are covering your face.
The meek the mild and innocent,
Are trampled under feet,
As we go one marching blindly,
To our invincible defeat.
No more calling softly,
No more calling you,
We've lost our hope and loving,
What once we thought was true.
And now the choice is coming,
Riding on a wave,
To be a free man dying,
Or be a mad man's slave.
And now the drums are drumming,
Drumming down the line,
Will you be marching forwards?
Will you be deaf and blind?
Will the light of sacred meaning?
Shine from bottom of your heart?
As the soldiers go on marching,
Tearing our humanity apart.
more at http://labyrinthoflies.com
Open your eyes to the ever turning skies
I want to here with me through the night
My heart yearns into your soul
Burning as if newly lit coal
I bravely submerg the embers
That the time I have can be spent with you
And I remember each kiss every moment
I was caught in your love that for just this day I remember
So what happened was a chance for your love
A time that I kept in a locket tied with a kiss
I wanted you to feel, to love, to slumber
And to awake in my arms with that times kept bliss
I lay silient in an umber
A small poem “Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love” wrote by Mrs. Madhavi. Suyog. Pagare
“Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love”
Seating nearby valley side,
Astonished by seeing a nature's serene beauty.
Amidst Grassy hills,
zigzagically mounted on the stupefying homeland.
Pristine Water, Sliding from the highest peak,
Flowing in its own way,
Wondering about its challenging destiny.
Love the way you are.
I owe you for myself!!
Wind's whispered, Cheering in its ain way.
Chanting of music beats,
Recited with a soothing intonation.
Birds speaking eloquently..
Dazzling due to marvellous rainbow..
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself!!
Amazing and enamoured environment aroused my emotions,
Feeling Shy to express.
Missing my dream person,my Mr.Adam.
Versatile persona where are you?
Come here and hug me.
Fuel me up with spirit.
Gift me a smile.
Until forever fades away, Endure me.
Love the way you are..
I owe you for myself!!
Finished dropping stones in water.
Gladly waiting for your arrival.
Testing patience is all enough now.
Wanted to feel the gist of love.
Desire to fulfil wish with pure heart and soul.
Auspicious moments provoking to capture
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself
by Madhavi. Suyog. Pagare.
Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.
Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.
If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!
I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!
Walking threw the mist of the night,
on the path that lead deep into the forest, in absence of sound;
from one whom was bought, no body shell be found,
of those who might be lost, homeward bound,
as we raven through this hollow ground.
Cross sentences that are incomplete, fractions that make you weak,
threw words that you learned so well, life is a living hell,
don't front and pull back, end of line, number check,
in the story and on track, blank page,
Star Trek Rules!
It was time for: Comic Con! Comic Con! Dragon wanted to come, too!
But then so did everyone else at Troll Lake… Hey, now, wouldn’t you?
We made some really cool costumes… for the costume show, my Dear.
You can guess, ‘Star Trek Rules!’ It couldn’t be anything less, you hear.
Our favorite nighttime popcorn show, would truly now, become a part of our lives!
The penguins got permission from the zoo; to go… great publicity, so very wise.
McRacoon had his Las Vegas Dragons get us, and a mock saucer, there, all on time.
Naturally pre-registered and in costume, we strutted in! Hi there! Began the playtime!
Man we were really cool, as the guest actors ask for OUR autographs. For Real!
Pictures were snapped, and a poster made, to be signed by everyone, so cheerful.
It’s highest bid, given to charity, would be a nice touch, for everyone in our crew.
The costume show was set outside, where all the dragons, could fly in, or out, too.
And a small mock, star ship was landed on stage, so we could enter with more flare.
Lord a mercy! Look at us! We’d never be like this, again! We were like stars, I swear!
Grandpa Troll, became Mr. Spock, naturally, because he was so, very clever and wise.
Our neighbor witch, was Uhura, due to her great ability to, protect everyone’s’ lives.
Borp the Frog became Sulu, so he could take us up to Borp speed, with laser effects!
Hubby was Scotty, with the Tinker Trolls in engineering, for special effects, so perfect!
The penguins were the beloved crewmembers, running with lasers, all over the place.
The powder puff tribbles, got wet, so yes, became the ‘Trouble with Dribbles’, in space.
The Mary River Turtles wanted to be Checkov. What a groovy, exciting, security team.
Dragon wanted to be Captain Kirk, you know, like totally, in command… At the scene!
All agreed, I’d be a great Dr. McCoy, since I always get to, kiss the Boo- Boo’s away.
The Weird Frogs were the Aliens, chasing everyone mindlessly, around, the set, that day.
And the Las Vegas Dragons, became attacking star ships, over which our lasers won!
The crowds went wild, and we won first place in their hearts, as well as, in their minds!
Everyone had, such a good time, so the Trek continued, well after, when we got home.
That year Comic Con made the National news, and of course, nobody, was surprised!
As the residents of Troll Lake and Acorn Falls… continue to Trek on… every day!
By Mike and Carol Eastman…
The Emperor and the holy man
Once, a long, long time ago
There lived an Emperor
He had conquered half the world
He couldn’t be worshipped more
And everyone within his realm
They done what he did say
For each knew that to disobey him
Could mean his dying day.
One day this Emperor did decide
To sail to India
He’d heard about those holy men
And the tales in him did stir
A lot of curiosity
He decided he would go
And find one, then bring him back home
He had a need to know.
Romanda was a holy man
He’s deeds were legendary
He never wore no clothes at all
And everyone could see
That he was someone very special
Many had seen his power
And they knew that time with him
Could bring one’s soul to flower
The Emperor sent some men to find
That holy man, did he
He told them bring that Guru back
Deliver him to me
So off they went to do his will
But Romando he refused
He said your man must come to me
Those soldiers were confused!
The Emperor, he was upset
He found that holy man
He offered him jewels and, and money too
And he did not understand
When our hero turned him down again
He drew his sword on him
It didn’t look good for the holy man
That Emperor looked grim!
Romanda told the Emperor
“My friend, chop off my head
If this is what you’re bound to do
But you won’t kill me dead
I left this body years ago
You cannot kill what’s not
Oh, you may kill this shell I’m in
But that’s not worth a lot.
He said ‘why do you conquer
Don’t you know, it’s a disease?
When you have conquered everything
Will you then be at ease
Put your sword away, my friend
Don’t be so childish now
Know you a man who says he’s great
He really has no power”.
The Emperor was beaten by
A naked, unarmed man
The great man? Stood there foolishly
He did not understand
How this man was unafraid
He’d never glanced within
Great Emperors, they only know
The mind and all its din.
12 September 2013@1835hgrs.
Love cannot bloom,
love cannot go on,
love cannot persue it dreams,
love cannot be what it is meant to be,
love cannot be where it is supposed to be,
if love doesn't have two hearts.
Love needs two hearts to be true,
Like water to a dried rose
makes it bloom in spring weather
with such glory and beauty.
Love cannot be true if one heart
doesn't love the other.
Care, trust, honesty and loyalty
in love it has no boundaries,
it has no color, it has no age,
like a fine wine or an aged whiskey
it grows better with time.
But love cannot fullfill without the other half.
If a woman loves man,
let her love him,
if you love me,
than love me, but if my heart is gone
and cannot be found in such relation with you
then I must halt, till my heart comes around.
If it never does show with the first light of morning,
then it wasn't meant to be with thee.
Come now, do not shed a tear for me,
a simple heathin, who cries havoc
when something doesn't go his way.
Do not cry, do not shed your one of a kind tears
for a souless man, for a heartless man like I,
but do not blame me,
if my heart cannot be found.
Love needs two hearts,
not one or the other can survive
without each other.
Love is patient, love is kind,
but with ever lover comes another.
And we will all fall in great and deep love,
be intoxicated with each other,
and our sweet kisses that God himself would shed a tear
for such beauty that still exisits.
Love needs two hearts,
you cannot have one, without the other.
a poor man used to own two things.
ink and feather he save on shelf.
alone and old,no one took care.
inside his house, a wreck oak chair.
during night the wind blows so cold.
a broken kettle warmth his soul.
a cup of ginger tea, a smile he holds.
filled in the hollow space untold.
seven decades have passed his way.
folks and family has left away.
in a small penny can't build a home.
his wife and children throw him alone.
too many days run out of his life.
the twilight is now hiding in the dark.
patiently waiting for his hour to come.
his eyes rested, open the gate of sky.
this old man who owns two little things.
an ink and feather he saved on shelf.
these hide a story that never been told.
the man who owns a bag of golds.
He is my gentle seduction
that makes me lighter than air
he holds onto me firmly
so I won't up and disappear
Not that I don't love him
but in fact, I love him so dear
but remember, I told you,
he makes me lighter than air
He has to be my angel
God sent me, I, unaware
for years I stopped dreaming
I guess out of lonely fear
But today, I woke from dreaming,with him kissing my ear
how perfect our love is, in our older years
enjoying those simpler things like cooking
fishing or just holding the other near
He is my handsome husband
the father of my children, our truest bliss
soon the grandfather to the symbol
of all these growing in loving years
An Ode To LIFE
As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea
As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of
I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago
As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene and hear every word as I am learning the story they telling is true
The writer writes of a jealous King and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child
The story tells of the three wise men who saw a star in the north and heard of a child who was born to be the King of the Jews and come to see and bring Him gifts
An angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed
So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled
As I follow along in my dream I see each scene and hear every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each
I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey
As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in Nazareth of Galilee
As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me
As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.
By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Inspired by God
I tried to write about love but I haven’t felt it.
I tried to write about the sea but I’ve never seen it.
Then I tried to write about the air, but I have never breathed it.
I tried to write about magic but I never believed it.
I couldn’t write about god, all I have ever done is sinned.
And when I tried to write about life I found,
I have never really lived.
Adroit like serpent coils upon the floor,
she coils in air, blue splendid lit and waves,
datura flow in mind, her dance implores,
her vision passed and on your thoughts she stays.
Upon her altar sacrificial calls,
her face, her scent, will challenge and indulge,
decisively manipulates her roles,
her blurry pass, where fates her scopes divulge.
Instinctive ancient dance, the crowd accourts
she flows in veins, blue aconite domain,
no fate will be as sweet or more distinct,
as thousand lengths to feel of brunette mane.
Her finger cymbals rings, Judith of Laws,
(so splendid is her bedleh and shalwars,)
attacks in air like desert hawk that claws,
betrayed of minds her apathy ignores.
She dances, and her jingling cymbals ring
incursion of a deathly whiff and rye.
monotonous of Dervish siege she'll sing,
'bout victims of her charm, eager to die.
( The Deuterocanonical book states,
in sleep Holofernes was killed by blade,
remorseless end her ancestress dictates,
for his Assyrian colony should fade. )
Bequeath from then, alluring raid of scents,
hypnotic - oriental dance to thrill,
her aural serpent-lithe performing blends,
dark sightly Siren weighs her glance to kill.
© G.V. 02-07-2013
Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper
It looks like you’re outtah luck…no wonder you’re drowning in dread
You need a shoulder to lie your head down for a moment’s rest…
You need a helper…to aid you while you struggle emotionally…
I’m not trying to irritate you purposely
Try with all your might…try your best
To stay optimistic and fervent
I believe that you’ll pass the test
Be upbeat, kindhearted and jubilant
I appreciate the words you wrote on my notebook…
Sometimes, I feel like leftovers left on the counter…
I’m a rotten mess – you’re leaving me as if I’m an uninteresting book
Sometimes, I feel like a coward – I don’t mean to bother…
But, you’re like no other . . .
You’re like a mat – you’re constantly stepped on…
I’m like YOUR unwanted tool –
I stepped on you and
Pushed your buttons
I accused you of being the fool
When, in fact, I’m the fool by your side…
You’re drifting…pushing me aside…
I’m writing words of truth though –
Expressing how much I’m fond of you
I esteem your presence
Glowing with glee
At times, you do say things without thinking
I’m the god of distress –
You’re leaving me breathless
Cutting me down like I’m some decaying tree
You don’t see how much you make me…
Guilty for your crimes
Taking the blame about the hundredth time
At times, I feel that I’m awkward when I’m around you
You’re like a backpack – you carry everyone’s weight…
You’re like a sponge – soaking in our stress
I’m a distraction to you – you’re wasting valuable time…but don’t hesitate
I’m writing words of self-centered feelings – logic doesn’t exist…
But these feelings aren’t as bad as committing a crime
These feelings come and go – I just had to confess
I didn’t mean to screw up your progress…
Hey, if you need a few sheets of paper to right on,
Use me like a notebook instead…and write with all your might
It seems as if you read me…like a book that drags on and on
Use me as your tool of relaxation… and read me all night
When you wrote those words on my notebook…
It made my day…you’re such a delight
Like reading a fascinating, classic book
Such a nose had Ol’ Blue.
Best in south Missouri... everybody knew.
Could smell a pheasant across the plain.
Could point a covey in a hurricane.
That’s the way the legend goes.
Ol’ Blue had a “magic nose.”
As Blue got older, his master’s mind would drift away
To a place where he and young Blue used to play.
In the mornings, sitting over his coffee cup
He found it sad there were no pups.
He thought it would be such a shame
If the only memory was Ol’ Blue’s name.
So, Jim was compelled and full of pride;
He made a search, far and wide,
To find Ol’ Blue a suitable mate.
No doubt, his offspring would be great.
It seemed likely, he supposed,
At least one pup would have his “magic nose.”
She was a Champion Miss from New Orleans,
A beautiful “red” named Cajun Queen.
But Blue suddenly passed away, before the pups were born.
Jim was broken hearted. He and “Queenie” mourned.
Then came the litter, but there was only one.
Jim struggled for hope; after all, he was Ol’ Blue’s son.
Dappled and lanky, a handsome little cuss,
He looked just like Blue. Jim made such a fuss.
Naming this pup would require no ado.
It was obvious. Officially, he would be “Blue Two.”
Oh yes, these were mighty large tracks to fill.
“Can he?”, folks asked. Jim would say, “Heck yes he will!”
So his nickname became “Two” and he seemed to be smart.
Soon it was time for his training to start.
The basics went well, but Jim’s outlook grew very dim
When, instead of pointing, Two would wag and jump and bark at him.
Oh, Two seemed to be trying; but try as he might,
He just could not seem to ever get it right.
“Blue’s son or not, he’s got to go!”
Jim found Two a “pet home” far away, in Tupelo.
On his way back, he stopped in Texarkana.
Been too long a time since he’d seen his sister Hannah.
Six days and six pounds later, he was back on his way.
Work at the farm was callin’ and he’d be drivin’ all day.
He thought about Ol’ Blue and wondered if and when
He’d ever have a birddog as good as Blue again.
Oh, he knew another “magic nose” was just a far off dream;
After all, it wasn’t something any man could scheme.
A “magic nose” was a gift from God, only given to a few;
And he was proud and very lucky just to have known Ol’ Blue.
As he turned into his drive, he broke into a smile.
“Why… I can’t believe it! It…It must be 300 miles!”
Two was on the porch, thin and dirty; but he struck a handsome pose.
Jim ran and hugged Two hard. “How’d you get back? Lord only knows!”
Suddenly Jim realized; and struck with awe, he slowly rose.
A tear trickled to his smile. “Why Two… you have a “magic nose!”
Two and Jim are best of friends, together everywhere.
From milkin’ cows to bedtime, Two is always there.
Jim doesn’t hunt much anymore, now Two’s a rescue dog.
Just last month, he saved a little girl lost in Cooley’s Bog.
Jim struts and tells proud, heroic stories;
While Two wags and jumps and barks, and shares his glory.
Jim boasts, “Like father, like son!”, then speaks fondly of Blue;
But all know the largest tracks to fill are those of Two.
His deeds are known far and wide,
And fill Jim’s heart with love and pride.
For with every rescue, the legend grows;
About a dog named Two, and his “magic nose.”
I lay sleeping with eyes wide open,
I lay sleeping with dreams that have no meaning,
I lay sleeping with nothing to dream about.
I lay sleeping with no care and sleep with eyes blind,
I lay sleeping, there with my eyes wide open.
Seeing the dark change from dark to black.
There is no moon, there is no sky
just purple strokes of paint in the sky.
Take that morning dew smell and close your blind eyes.
Smell the morning, that smell that clicks in your mind.
The smell of childhood dreams,
that as an adult never came true.
Sleeping bare in the nude with your eyes wide open.
Thinking of her, as she is five thousand miles away from you.
Wanting to love and hold her, but no use in crying.
Sleeping their with blind eyes in the dark that dances in the light.
Your lamplight turned down low,
as life trickeles down in its nightgown and yawns for sweet slumber.
Tired from longs days, and sometimes long nights,
wanting to curel in bed and close its blind eyes.
Dusk will soon peek its head through the blinds
and awake life to a new dawn.
She sleeps in the morning, and walks at night.
When he sleeps at night, and walks with a bare nude heart in the morning.
Life climbs over yellow mountains,
and meets her fellow compainion
a handsome fellow with broud shoulders and blessed with an ego
as I sleep there with my eyes wide open.
As I sleep with my eyes blind to what life has intented for me,
and as I raise to walk the lone streets at the break of the dew covered lawn
at the first sweet smells of dawn,
I can see life go on with the handsome man
and I blind and wanting to go to bed.
I dream of dreams that have no meaning
Gardens of cluelessness and raging emotions
tare me down and I am confused on which way to go.
Do I stay here and dream away, blind and half awake
as life slaps me across my broad cheek?
Or shall I walk on with life hand and hand
and regain my vision of the world,
Start to sleep with dreams that make sense
and dreams that are made of gold and have no end?
Dream of fancy dreams that show love and happy endings
I would love that, and I would love to walk with life,
but she is out of my leauge.
And my bed is so cozy and I feel like sleeping.
So I shall sleep on more restless night chashing life down.
I lay sleeping with my eyes wide open.
I lay sleeping with dreams that have no meaning.
I lay sleeping waiting for life to come back from the mountains
and lay beside me.
I lay sleeping with hope of regaining hope and salvage
what is left of my spirit at hand.
Doors will open, doors will close
Poetry could rhyme or end up like prose
Doors will open, doors will close
Life is hard, life is easy – everyone knows
Doors will open, doors will close
Poetry is dark…poetry is light – every word flows
Doors will open, doors will close
Death is kind…death is cruel – life has its highs and lows
Doors will close, doors will open
Life is tiresome…life gives you adrenalin
Doors will close, doors will open
Poetry could be lovely…or gloomy; invite positivity in
Doors will close, doors will open
Death is troubling…death is peaceful…a new life shall begin
Doors will close, doors will open
Poetry is depressing…poetry is uplifting…
Writing’s a success from deep within
That everyone wants to win!!
Doors will open
Everyone – come on in!
Perhaps you feel like your
life is “spiraling down”
It’s as if everything’s come
“crashing to the ground”
Is your lie filled with
A lot of apprehension?
Just living day by bay
with a lot of tension?
Maybe you’re at a “low point”
and very “distraught.”
In life’s circumstances…
you feel trapped and caught.
If you feel confused…
Like you’re in a “trance…”
God’s word says to TRUST HIM,
in every circumstance!
God’s here to pick you up,\
when you stumble!
He’s always do it,
And never grumble!
If life’s dealt you a bad hand,
don’t try name it!
Jesus loves you so much!
It’s hard to explain it!
All of heaven invites you to
Invite Jesus as your lord!
An eternal life with him,
can be your great reward!
By Jim Pemberton
The stones slipped through the great fingertips of God
Each ligure staked its existence on the four corners of the universe
The quadrivial region began to spin and pull into a sphere
And pathways revealed their footholds
The fourth ligure bravely landed in the midst of history
So that one day the future settlement of the second
Would be moved by the last—by the past
Suffering much it stayed
Manifesting in incandescent words
Thrusting evanescence upon the weak
Selfless, it's sorrow would move the merriest
Would move the unmovable
The third lies in the profound valley of mystical guardians
Star-recruited, they are the very light above the canvas of gray
They embrace the stone—are inspired by the stone
The very reflection of their creator was evident
Upon their unremitting glimmers
Unafraid to stare the others down
Motivated and construed by the glower of death
Eyes move fixedly beyond the simple vast
The second ligure rested upon the shoulders of invisible martyrs
The hopeful power it planted on the sufferers was unbelievable
For spectators used their disbelief to cover their ever-placed envy
They never were part of the battle—they merely watched
Always seeing truth
But they never quite absorbed
Like a rock hitting the water
The inevitable fate was to fly and sink
The first of the ligures settled in the very reservoir of Satan himself
Even the very heart of the devil is marked
Though rebellion embarked
The cold stone landed upon his naked bosom
He despaired not to the pericopal truth the gods had bestowed upon him
He merely despised it
But wished not to lose it
For such a stone to fall upon that dark corner—he felt pride for the gracious wound
In truth, there are twelve ligures of stone
And four were dispersed, dropped into the universe
The last eight the great Eternal wears upon his breastplate
And only He can re-move these ligures
-July 20, 2013-
-For Shadow Himilton's Any Subject Contest-
-Thanks for the inspiration-
hello my friend, stranger walk by,
borrow a moment, spare me your lie,
through pen of the narrow and mist of an eye,
below absolute zero, someone will die;
sentence to rambler, apple hereby,
flute of the meadow, mandrake will cry,
in front of the riddler second might try,
get out of here mortal,
exit near by-e.
angry as he strike out his pen,
get out of here demon, get out of this den,
in thousands of years how long has it been,
when scriptures wear sandals;
on meadow you land, many bear seasons,
stakes shall bend, lantern still burning,
your letter is send.
Hanging there, limp but clenched,
Muscles still inexplicably tensed,
To whom did the hand once belong,
Still remaining defiant and strong,
A mere piece of a person once there,
With the spirit of the revolution's flare,
And what now of the rest of that precious soul,
Whose dismembered limbs were left in the coal,
Of the fires that swept through and set to ash,
All that now has been lost in a flash,
And yet here is a shard of the spirit still strong,
A lone hand with the flag to whom all belong.
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
Dedicated to my darling Mystic Rose...
For my everlasting rose,
for my darling Mystic Rose,
Charished deep in my heart,
for generations to last lifetimes,
on this Beautiful gift,
we all call Mother Earth.
Oh now my dear
come now and do not fear,
I shall take you by your sweet and loving hand,
as we set out in a band,
of two lonely hearts
that both need to be loved.
At first when I came
to this desolate Wasteland;
I was a lonely heart
with poetry that was my art.
You were the first to come to me,
with a smile and a hug.
You read my work,
I won your heart
and you praised me,
looked at me in anew
and treated me diffrently than any other.
My darling Mystic,
Oh how you make me feel;
so grand, so new, so happy.
As I lay my head to rest
I reminisce on your loving words,
that spoke such truth to my soul.
As you praised me through my heights,
and weaped with me through my sorrow,
as I uplifted your soul with the arrangement of words
I wrote from deep down in my weak and weary soul;
You were there always to touch my heart
and cure me of sorrowed tears.
It is impossible to express my love for you,
but see me, to feel my love,
for you my darling Mystic
it tears me apart to not
see your face, to hear your voice,
only to read your loving words
comments on a poem
that was written on a page;
It tears me apart.
Oh, my sweet and everlasting rose,
Blooming in every season,
at every hour,
a beautiful poetess at her midst of an evening twilight
as the nightingales sing outside your window,
I come and show you love and compassion.
Let us go, you and I,
I take you by your hand
and we sail off,
two poets writing of beauty
both in ink upon a blank piece of paper.
To write of love,
My compassion for you
my beautiful rose,
my darlin Mystic.
We shall part seas,
bloom in gardens of beauty,
roses and violets grow tall
reminding us of our everlasting friendship.
Lilacs and tulups stray long away,
to show my love to a stranger,
but you are no stranger to me.
You are an everlasting rose,
which blooms evertime at the stroke of nine,
and there you stay,
growing in a large and beautiful garden,
that is located deep in my heart.
Now take me, my darling Mystic
and charish this beautiful write
Charish it at all times,
every hour of the days!
In honour of your beauty and inspiration
I am a fool in love,
intoxicated with your beauty at heart.
My love intended for the girl of my dreams,
she walks from side to side,
not knowing that I walk alone.
She is beautiful than any other thing in this simple world,
everything around her shakes and trembles
as she walks on by without a spare of a passing glance.
The wine is drunk
the last cigarette smoked,
the pain of heartache gone away.
It feels good to see her go my way,
to take the pain with her away from me,
as I sit in the wayward cafe on the river of ashes.
A beautiful girl she is mine,
but that course of life shall no surpass mine,
and my heart beats and takes me away
in hope of falling in love.
Irony of love and hate,
it is similar in many ways,
as I sit and think of her.
She angers me,
but when the vail of anger falls over my eyes,
the passion of love enters my mind.
Come now, take me away,
hold me in your beauty,
and love me with your gentle body.
Go into the gardens,
where the nightingales sing,
and sit at the patio's crossway.
Watch the artists paint pictures of the garden,
watch the writers write about the garden,
and watch us go and pick flowers in the garden.
The air smooth and wind breeze calms the nerves,
the pain of my sorrowed heart is soothed,
by her sweet intellegence and beauty.
Her eyes, orbs of blazing sunlight,
blind me with the beauty of her beauteous face,
her lips and skin smooth and pure.
She is glorious,
My love she is the dream girl,
who comes and takes my nightmares away from me.
As I sit on the park benches,
I light my last cigarette,
and reminicse on the days with my love.
I close my tired eyes only for a moment,
and the moment is gone,
my beauty is gone.
The tears are all gone,
the pain has gone,
the feelings of everlasting love are all gone.
Where did it all go?
Where did my beauty go?
Where did my love go?
All gone now, all gone now,
as I grow old,
the feeling of death takes me by surprise.
The park bench is cold,
the cigarette is burnt out,
I am longing for a drink.
I lay in a wayward cafe
drink a coffee and talk to myself
discussing a book of poetry.
Looking over to the right
I am blinded by beauty once again
this time this is no dream.
Alas, my dream girl came
that appeared in my sunny pleasure dome,
who has walked barefoot in the gardens of my mind.
She sat with me,
I looked at her
and we smiled together.
We held hands together,
and dreamed together,
forever and ever.
cigarettes smoked together.
A cloud over our heads
in the shape of a heart
I Knew Someone Who Was Ready to “End It All!”
I knew of someone who just wanted “to end it.”
Giving up on life, and did not want to “defend it.”
It was a heart wrenching and difficult situation.
He said what he wanted to, with no explanation!
I could see his face and the sad look in his eyes!
What he was going to do next, was anyone’s surprise.
He turned to drugs and encountered addictions.
With this brought much disease and afflictions!
He gave up on the wonderful family that was given.
And turned to a pretty wild and crazy way of livin’!
I told him about a God who loves him very deeply.
As he listened, he began to grow restless and weary.
I reached for his hand and began to pray for God’s power!
It was a miracle! The blood of Jesus changed him that hour!
The spirit of God brought healing and hope to his body!
He was so excited! He rushed out to tell everybody!
The “end” that he wanted, seemed to just fade away!
For the son of the living God, changed him this day!
The glory of God, and the power of Jesus’ resurrection…
Changed him! And got him going in a NEW direction!
He’s so thankful for the blood of Christ’ atonement!
And is a different person now, because of that moment!
This same Jesus loves and can do the same for YOU!
Through the problems of life…
He will see you through!
By Jim Pemberton
This question drives me up and down the walls
I know for certain that God has answered my calls
I can’t hang up on Him…He’s so brilliant
And I’m so little compared to Him…
Maybe I’m little in size and very insignificant compared to the most High
He gives me quite a natural high
He brings me back home and kisses me good night
Without His love, I’d be lost like a sheep losing his shepherd
I feel like I’m separated to God
As if God and I are on both sides of the coin…
Our oceans don’t collide with each other,
But He does make huge tidal waves…
And I make baby waves that swerve up and down
Like a wave’s movement, my life seems to have its low points and high points
But, when I build enough energy, I glide higher than the clouds
Though, unfortunately, I’ve only been dreaming this
Then, I collapse into the sand...my face rubs against it and I have scrapes all over
Sand and water do mix well, but afterwards, the sea shore’s weight will pile up on the bottom of the ocean floor
I can’t imagine how many grains of sand there are on Earth
There are countless amounts of ants on Earth as well
Trillions and trillions of them are in existence
It’s amazing how plants take in Carbon Dioxide
And we breathe in oxygen…
God is a fantastic creator and He did carve His creations pretty well
God saw my distress and He healed me
When I think about Him, I’m speechless and can’t say much
He’s made out of love and He bubbles me up with excitement
I haven’t given Him the credit of working miracles in my life…
But, I don’t want to divorce God…I must propose to Him like a wife
Does to her husband…I want to submit to Him
He made the sunset, the moon and stars
Look! He even made the planets and He healed our scars
He made the flowers, the roses and the creeping bugs
Look! He even made leaves for our eyes to see…
He made the change of seasons
God saw my distress and healed me
God made the wild cats, bears, reptiles
He made us have a brain that is as neat as black and white tiles
God healed me…and I’m simply glad He did so
God wiped out my distress…and He simply dressed me with happiness and He’s in high spirits to see me grow
~ Inspired by the band of Evanescence’s song: Never Go Back
~ God inspired me to write this poem…
At night I like to look to the sky
and remember the lost ones by whom I'm inspired
The angels Rena, Toni, Jeromiah, and David
all showed me something, how can I repay them?
My heros whos lives, troubled like mine
yet never once did they ever fail to shine
even as they thought they mattered not
I noticed the love for the life through they fought
every time they woke from the bed
until one by one, my heros, fell dead
When I remember, even though, ago long,
I look to the heavens, and sing them a song.
I feel them smile, and clap for another
I give it all my love, like I do Teddy and Randy, my brothers
who pulled me out of the hole in my head
and gave me the strength to carry the dead
into my concert, a symphonic life
for its what they give me, when we get lost in the night.
The gentle Ogre.
There once was an Ogre,
who lived in a cave
He was not aggressive
He wasn’t real brave
He’d sit and write poems
Or play his guitar
But everyone knew
That he went to far
For Ogre’s are angry
And Ogres are cruel
And it was well known
The top Ogre rule
You catch em you eats em
That’s just how it is
And they saw our weak Ogre
And they didn’t like this
But he didn’t care,
He thought they were fools
And though they did treat him
So awfully cruel
He stuck to his rights
Like he always did
He had his opinions
Which he never kept hid.
But little folk loved him
Adored him, did they
Whenever they saw him
It would make their day
They all did bow down to
his sweet gentle power
Because in his heart was
A beautiful flower.
One day they did ask him
To live with him there
They treated him tender
And gave him such care
They gave him a throne
And made him their king
That sweet gentle Ogre
Was gave everything.
21 July 2013 @ 1713hrs.
What is a form
who needs a form
form is my life
is my form
My reality is my reality
your reality is your reality
Do you understand
do you really understand
be the limitless
Four walls forming a world
Keeping the silence there is no spoken word
Liberated from the body,
I feel no burden anymore
I Must be lived therefore
Living the eternity, fooled by the myth of life
Now it's the ultimate time to define the wrong from the right
All will get the wage of what they did
The virtuous, the wicked, eventually apart
lets get back to where it starts..
Imitating the roles in a so called play
To participate, being cheap is the way to stay
A few say no, the rest obey
Puppets, animals, evils.. all set ready to play
Opening scene is predicting the finale
The plot is not impaired, it's just an alley
Lust, greed, envy..that's behind the curtain
All racing toward the uncertain
Affected by the misfortune and absence of the righteous
Selling became the profession, with this kind of ware there's no recession
Choosing lies instead of truth, masked faces over truly who they are
And drifting away too far
Drowning in seas of oblivion
awakening seems to be right at the shore, for whom got the sail
And persist on passing the trail.
Raiding hoards assemble to make the attack;
Aerodromes on high alert, we’ll fight them back.
Brave souls scramble to cockpits everyone;
Awaiting the final vector to where the deed is done.
Away boys! Away!
And off they take to meet their fate,
The dwindling few do not hesitate.
Some to return and some to not;
Together forward they meet the onslaught.
Sirens blare the target is sure,
To your guns lads! We’ll give’em a cure.
Barrage balloons aloft, we’ll keep’em up high,
The gunners are ready, waiting the spotter’s eye.
Run from your flat to the safe tube below,
Gas mask at the ready, you just never know.
The old man leads us in songs of good cheer,
Knowing all the while that our end could be near.
Bombs drop and the guns blaze,
Another neighborhood disappears with a haze.
The docks are burning a bright orange hue,
Damn you bloody bastards, our boys will take care of you!
Swirling trails against blue skies,
Belie the deadly dance taking place before our eyes.
Flaming wreckage, another early grave,
More mothers grieve, have we all gone insane?
Finally all clear, we creep from our boroughs,
Shattered buildings surround, but the Jack’s still unfurled.
Mr. Churchill walks the rubble to buck up our faith,
On the beaches, in the fields and in the streets he says,
We’re standing alone, but to persevere is our fate.
This one is for my dear friend Gladys. She was 11 and living in London during
Here comes that familiar breeze again
Emptied of hope, it always returns to refill
Some other abandoned soul
A soul that delves deep into my own,
Drifting in an almost shameful stance
Festered ignorance, time, and thought
Resting under the wing of frightened hope
It is cool, like any ordinary breeze
It pleases all that feel it, save I
For I know it longs to take all that I have
In one…single… swoosh
You overlooked demon! Why are you so gentle?
Why must you manifest in sorrow and woe?
Sleeping in the convent of my soul
As others praise you and thank you
You take me under tow
Forever more, lost in this sicklied growth
With a silent tune of rests within notes
I remain where the breath is taken
I remain your host
The breeze grows painstakingly warm
Filling all with passions unfolding
Each soul finds its home
Leaving me alone with a soul untold
Always awake and crawling… and screaming
Bold, all-knowing and thoughtless
Wingless, tainted…filled with dread
It is warm and hated by all that behold it
And I grasp it, and hate it, and LOVE IT
For it takes nothing and gives me all
In multitudinous shrouds
Beloved angel—why do you burn me so…
Leading me into your sick embraces
As others curse to your face
You forever release in me
A despairing freedom that I know longer wish for
The melody caught—no room to breathe
Harmony caked with ignorance does seethe
For all no longer see…
I was always the caller
What glows in beauty
Like this flawless nature
In the stunning 'super moon'
Indeed a relic of divinity
When it comes this close
Thrills us with its moonlight
From savanna resorts of Africa
The bears in snowy Antarctic
Over the sassy Hollywood parties
The spectacle of Arabian nights
To civilised homes in Europe
It puts millions in awe
In moonstruck seas and cities
All admire this rare gesture
The tides rise in dazzle
Sailors dock ships in wait
To see pie of marvel
In this epic showcase
Find your freedom
Pressure and stress
live like a necessity unwanted
In the reality of jobs we do nowadays
To earn a life,
With a reflection
Like a force
We woke up morning after morning,
Chaseing for the days bread,
With a heart of needs,
We wonder ,
Like tommorow is fine as promised,
Find your freedom
Always we got to obey the boss,
From a teacher
We learn with a structure
Organise before we were grown
Like doe now it change
We always either bow to computers
To mobile phones
And on and on
Find your freedom
Like a 21st century
Like a USB generation
Soon may be
Where a full force with over take
The real sence
and existence of a moral being,
Fast speeding on the way,
Common sence exit no more today,
Moral rules are buried
Or rather born ablaze
Find your freedom
I wish I was born in an ancient age,
Where truth is the rule of culture,
When money was not in existence,
When love was the God,
Find your freedom
Look around you,
The clouds of truth
Like is about to rain down
With a wind like a tornado
Of distruction from an anger
Of the God,
Nature bleed for it cost
When we chose not to understand it
Like a circle we trade life
From a defferent direction of our own
Mind of self satisfaction,
Find your freedom
The sun are about to turn red
abomination is oviously invoke all over places,
We sit and laugh like all is good,
Is all about to rain on a fool,
We fall to see beyond looking,
Is all about to burn like a hell to the man who
live to earn just money from manipulation,
Distruction like a karma is about to fall to all
who fails to improve humanity with love,
Find your freedom
Like kids tales by moon light,
Runing around the fire
There is fire on the mountain,
Run run run,
Oh run away from the reality of today
There is more to what we know
when you begin to search
for who you truly are
Then you are on a speed to
Find your freedom
THE LIGHT HOUSE
The shimmering white beacon off the shores
Of Marble-head, let it's flickering light shine again,
In restorations amber glow of hope.
For are we not the custodians of our own history.
Allow us to relight the spark, igniting the flames
Kindling, a tinderbox of explosive force,
To expose our historical past for others to enjoy.
Than shall we not pass the torch forward.
It is up to us, to save legacy's heritage,
For the future generations to come.
Crumbling monument’s cry out to be
Remembered, times cruel weathering, does
Ascend tearing at the walls of mortar,
And chipping at the layers of paint.
Can we not lend a helping hand, to aid in
Such a worthy cause, to preserve our past.
Allow us as human beings, the keepers of
The lighthouse, to fuel the fire for preservation.
Let us leave a historical landmark, a piece of
The past worthy of saving, to be restored.
Hand-N-Hand, brick by brick, layers of
Humanities historical records need
It is a proclamations that should be heard,
For prosperity's sake alone.
Rise up Toledo-ans, see the torch light from
Afar distant island, let not this flame be
Stamped out, or fade away.
No not here in the grand state of Ohio,
In the light house, off Sandusky Bay,
Shall it's rays of brilliance shine again.
Against the Lake Erie waters, standing
Tall, as a beacons light of hope,
For future generations to come.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
There is a place,
a magical wonderland
that sits at the end of your mind,
and everybody dead and living
goes there when they are tired.
It is a place that is special
and is diffrent to stand to your approval.
It is a nighttime wonder
only open from eleven to five
and you can only come,
if you truely believe.
It is a place
where the streets are paved gold,
peace runs through every corner and avenue,
no jails, no hospitals
because there is no crime and no sickness.
The skies are always blue,
and the clouds are all white,
the sun is blazing hot
and the woman all give you a wink of an eye
and all blow you kisses,
where the men want to be you,
and where the women want to sleep with you.
It is a nighttime wonder,
a special place,
in the back of your mind.
It is real, not imaginary,
nothing is fake about this place,
this is where dreams come true,
where there are no cancers, headaches, toothaches,
no wars, no enemies, no hangovers,
no schools, no politicians, no lawyers, no greed,
no sin, no temptation, no demons or devils;
everything is beautiful, and everything grand.
A piece of Heaven on Earth.
Everyone is happy,
all with a smile on their face,
not a frown in sight.
Songs are sung with the most beautiful of voices
and the sweetest of songs sung.
This place is a nighttime wonder.
When you tuck yourself under the sheets,
grab your pillow, or girlfriend, or boyfriend
husband or wife, or even your favorite stuffed friend,
we all go to this special nighttime wonderland.
A place of joy, a place of happiness,
a place where you go to forget
a mini vacation.
Till that alarm clock's annyoing buzz comes on
and pulls you out of that nighttime wonder
and places you back into reality.
Children and grandchildren are gifts to us all,
In many different ways,
They come into our lives,
To brighten our lives and days,
When we are down,
And show us that God does exsist,
Each and everyday,
They are our angels here on earth,
To show us the way,
Cause they are born free from sin,
And we must show them the way,
How to live and guide them,
To remain on the rightous path,
Or they shall not stay the same,
So as parents and grandparents,
Let's try our best to show,
The younger generations,
How to stay on the correct paths in life,
Then maybe one day,
They too can be the one's,
To carry on God's word,
In this world as intended,
And we all can live in peace and harmony,
And no more wars.
once you get inspired
you realize you got to admire
and you got know and see
what you done to somebody
like once or twice
i remember myself saying these lines
" you aint worthless
your full of life
dont give it up
but live for the time"
i told that to a girl
who was emotional scared
brothers died in a fire
and mom didnt want her no more
true story folks
no made up lines
and the last message made me cry
her brother wanted to see her
and so did the dad
the mom i dont know what happened
just wasnte said
but last she spoke to me
made me realize what i could be
she said all this and then left
deleted me and said good bye
she said these words i will repeat"
Dylan man i love you and thank you deeply
my mom now wants me
she realizes i am something
i am the train now
wifi is going low
i cant this is happening
thanks for making my dream come true
i wish you the best
got to delete you
mom doesnt like stranger on my wall
or in my friends list after all
good bye Dylan for ever
i will never forget you
love you bye"
thats all she wrote
hit my heart like a note
saying keep doing this it is right
you helping the world not only in Gods eyes
Walking down the hallway,
Seeing all the doorways,
And all the choices in one's life,
Making it difficult to choose,
The right room from all the others,
Bringing you the wisdom and truth,
From all the imperfections that are within us all,
Which sometimes makes us crawl,
On our hands and knees,
To discover what is right and survive,
In life as long as we can accept,
What life brings us all in our hearts,
Which we patiently accept all the pleasures,
And sacrifice much in our lives,
Which makes us correct our flaws,
Which is a big struggle,
Till we can open our eyes,
And see what we have to believe in,
Is greater than our lives can ever be,
Cause God created us all,
But the choices we make are ours to make,
To find the happiness,
But finding Him and believing in Him,
Is ours to be found and kept,
To find true happiness in our lives.
This is a story of a farmer
Who became an informer…
Displacement of this farmer
Was heartless, by a round belly
Robbing a Skinny belly
In a rock steady
See for any story
The context is essential
An emotional state
Is the presence of stimuli
A thought ……..
But in this instance
There was no resistance
And the diction
But a contradiction
To take ride of humiliation
And bear the scars of crucifixion……………..
TO BE CONTINUED>>>
By Laura Dee
November 15, 2014
When I held your hand
Did you ever understand?
Could it be the way our stars align?
I prooved to be your tragic design
Did it ever show in my eyes
I could have been the perfect bride
Never thought it'd be that way
I would've had much more to say
Could I ever be as you are?
Couldn't be much more bizarre
Did you see the pain in my eyes?
See through my perfect alibis?
For you the makeup is your face
To them it's my mark of disgrace
When all you want falls out of reach
Identity is constantly breached
The fear on your face leaches out
The seeds of doubt that suddenly sprout
Growing hate when the skies are grey
Loving yourself despite what they say
Maybe one day I'll find they're right
Their way may too hard to fight
But that will be the day that I die
The final bed on which I lie
I'm begging you to save me please
Laura Dee; the man I'll never be
My breath is cold as the coming winter snow
My heart is no longer six feet below
For the first time at night
I might be all right
Hope might be the only word
To finally stray from the mindless herd
I open my Virgin eyes to spotless sunshine
Now that I know her warm lips are mine
She is just like me; so free from our disease
Destinies for memories between the burning trees
The mule yawned
We both in slumber
Marched towards the water well
Miles away, under suns torment
The mule knew his drink was near
I knew the labor was only half done
As was the mule
We trekked back home
My family now has one more day
I took siesta
Before the fields enslaved me
Now at dusk
Fatigued I gaze at the constellations
Hopeful and fearful
Of another dawn