Does not the pen yield its ink unto the bare page,
For expressionism to spill forward expelling inspirations
Liberal curve, it’s the power of freedom of speech is
How many have died for what they believe in,
What weight in blood soils, have these brave
Individuals has cost in life’s causes of the justice
These voices sounding can be heard even though
The flesh flame has been extinguished, hope light
Flickers in the darkest corner of silence, and it’s mighty
Winds wave can still be felt amongst the living.
Know one stands alone in a justified cause, if the truth
In the written words is spoken out loud, and is proudly
Bared by the author.
The next generations seeks our kindling fire, to inspire
There small embers to burn more brightly let us encourage
Such raw fuel to ignite, not smother it by smug self righteousness.
Set ablaze the pages of the future generations, let their inspirational
Spark spread, setting the very heavens a fire with enlightenment's torrent.
In this world we are given the gift of speech, thought, and wisdom,
For what other reason but to share the best of ourselves with others,
It is the gleaming light that sizzles in the eyes of the human spirit,
And severs us from the beast of the fields, and it is called Intelligence,
Compassion, and the freedom of speech.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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 like an 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 .
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
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014
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
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~
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
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
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…
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
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.
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
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
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.”
she'd never balk
a stroll with her dog can't bother
since it daily empowers
she use to walk
with her mother
for hour and hours
they'd use to talk
with each other
about theirs and ours
now they ALL chalk
a dreamlike white cloud cover
with earthly and heavenly powers
(c) Elly Wouterse
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,
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.
Welcome To The Black Society
Welcome to the dead society
I hope you make through it this poem
I hope I make through this poem
I hope gunshots don't make it through this poem
Forgive me black society
But I have some issues to address
7th Avenue Corner Street of Failure
Is where you live at
Right next to poverty
and its cousins crime and illiteracy
I hope you will be able to read between these long lines
Yes am sure you're familiar with lines
That's cos everything you have
Has been in line for you and your fellow black society members
Black society so forward with modern day technology
As you are able to copy more of the western culture
And programming themselves into self- inflicted Slaves
Slaves to working endless hours on runways
Trying to remodel who they are
Trying to feed themselves with crumbles of commentary
Many have gained the world
For The price of their soul
A black soul that has lightened up slavery
A black soul a prodigal soul to the African society
Black society once blessed
With powerful, ambitious, unoppressed
Leaders, Visionaries, Freedom chasers
Black society now cursed with
Immortality through the same difference
Black society cursed with
Rich men with false intentions
Rich Men cursed with poor goals
Goals cursed with broken rewards
A Black society cursed by its society.
A black soul sinking in the deep white sea of wealth
Whites accumulate their wealth
Blacks accumulate their wages
Asians maintain their riches
But today White men are wealthy
Black men are rich
Wealth is power
Rich is poverty
Richness is unrecovered
Again wealth had become white
Black remains rich
Africa is rich, but its society is poor
Same riches, same difference
Same society, same riches
Richness killed by its Society
But Society killed its attachments
And in the black words of MosDef
"Stay alive, you play or die, no options,no Batman and Robin
Can't tell between the cops and the robbers, they both partners, they all heartless
With no conscience, back streets stay darkened
Where unbeliever hearts stay hardened
The length of black life is treated with short worth
That type of society that be filling up the cemetery
This life is temporary but the soul is eternal
That’s why, we are subjected to the will of the oppressive
Not free, we only licensed."
You need to get your share
Don't settle for a piece
Black society you need to rest in peace
Then the rest is history
His story is from the black society.
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.
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
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.
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
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
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
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.
"A soul, which is full of belief,
Always generous, clever,
Feels compassion and grief-
Dedicated to the defenders of Rhodes.
The good natured dawn gives a new, ordinary day
For the one whose brave soul has no any fear,
And though this cutting wind tries to rip his worn but reliable cloak
From his tired and wounded shoulder,
Yet he drives all his vague heavy doubts away,
While he has this sharp sword in his hand and the spear
He will never step back from this border.
So he stands here like a solid unbreakable rock
For in order not to let any foe come further.
And the dry, dusty ground is covered with a smock,
That brings bitterness into the eyes and the smell of burning tar,
Yet he sees the sunrise and there somewhere far
A jamb of magnificent cranes flying in the blue sky
For a moment, it brings him a feeling of his native place
Where once he vowed to carry mercy and grace,
Everywhere, be always fair and honest, to despise any lie,
Even always be ready at any moment to die,
Stand a danger face to face…
Many others like him there are standing side by side
Clad in armour and holding their shields in their arms,
Every one of them has a hot hammering heart,
That filled with spirit of holy belief and the pride.
They’ve come here not from the fields or the farms,
All of them are the masters of military art.
Call of duty has brought them together this time
To defend their Order of Hospitallers,
That is based on the island Rhodes at the edge of two seas
With their brave and strong leader the Grand Master Phillip de Villiers,
Who is more like a father for them, he is their prime,
Who never has his sensitive vigilance at ease.
The hard Turkish shelling destroyed the bell tower of St. Paul’s Church,
But it has not shaken the faith of the citizens in the defence,
And the English tower is brutally blasted; it looks like a ruthless and demonic torch,
Yet the defenders are trying to stop the invaders, this cruelty, and this violence.
Janissaries occupied the shore,
Right outside the inner walls of the destroyed English Tower,
And the knights are all ready to meet them and give them a worthy repulse.
There’re broken stones and the dust, every inch of the ground is sore
From the rise of the rage, that has a brutal and boundless power,
So that everyone can feel its frantic pulse...
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
There is freedom in her beauty. A confidence that comforts me deep in my soul. I am in awe. Purely. She may as well be flying, I cannot take my eyes from her wings that spread wide as the sky. Her song is deep and disciplined; at her command. The places in my gut that ache she shares and makes words where there were none. It's as if we've known each other before. Pieces of our souls belong to one another. So extraordinary but reachable through the humanity in her eyes. A sadness a deepness that resonates with me. It is within me. Sadness within the womb of woman, scars on the heart always leave behind more than ruined tissue. She gets that. She gets me. A superstar, the world cannot take their eyes off her. She is a flame, the view of the ground from the roof. In-arguably gorgeous, striking whether in her bare feet or the latest fashion. Her sexy is audacious, admirably we watch, when it's over we are inspired to be sexier. With a flip of big hair she becomes demure without parting with her sexiness. She is what woman is. So feminine while so in charge. The stage rumbles underneath her feet. She smiles into the crowd. A smile that the millions of dollars of lights behind her cannot compete with.
A smile that speaks
Saying... there is no place she would rather be.
Her love of melody of sing of the release that comes with belting out your feelings becomes my love. We are strangers but in a heavenly moment we become one.
Sisters of the soul. Girlfriends. Her greatest gift to me is her strength.
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.