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Epic Woman Poems | Epic Poems About Woman

These Epic Woman poems are examples of Epic poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Epic Woman poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Dramatic monologue | |

PINK LACE

**Every pace change --is the voice of a poet sharing his/her view** 

"PINK LADIES"  
  
The phone rings, 
The clock dings,

I scream, scream, and scream:

I can’t grasp what is real
I can’t inhale the lives you steal
This game is like murder in the first degree,
I can barely feel the words you're expressing.
Your hand, holding on to mine, as if it was the last
I crawl I hide behind these moonstone walls
There it hid and robbed my Womanhood
Pink is the ointment rubbed inside my diary.
---

I crawl- I remember-
Looking through a dream, where the woman wears combat boots
Women ready to kill all confrontation with nukes.
---

I was lost!
Do you know the feeling?
Once you hear, the “C” word your mind starts spinning,
You can’t see what’s going on,
Your smiles soon to be gone,
---

LOOK AT ME!
On this fright night, I bleed
Hold on tight, of the dead of this night
I’m down on my fallen knees,
A secret I can't keep, no longer need
Breaking backs when I mention the word “C.”
It is like getting struck by a freight train
Taking what belong and makes ME me! 
Forgetting the Pink October ribbons, I wore
Taking  time to weave them into the last strand in my red chemo hair.
---

Now here you are,
Standing under the chest
Heavy shoulders a violin press.
No longer needing the little black dress
Skin pink tight leather, now you caress
My eyes are full of tears
Once I discovered the beast came back without fear 
The news blew like a missile in heat
With a fire’s shooting out from the dark
Sweltering me, blazing me,
Leaving the world all ribbon tied.
Dimples and pretty lips, I drop the world with beauty and tissues. 
Filled with  pink ivory issues 
This is the way that I feel, I am real… you are a killer, you are a disease! 
You can sit there and shatter our lives,
With many of us, you’ll discover we are not breakable like glass 
Still, we will walk in high heels strolling through pink valley skies.
With a charm called a Pink Ribbon; -I WORE-
---

- A heavy pink scarf now I wear like a noose, 
Remembering my days have been numbered by you.
---

I PLEAD FOR MY LIFE?
I have no family to lean on
Everybody’s plus my mother is gone
I have no friends by my side
You are the undead: 
Leading some of us into a watery grave
You are like a jack in the box
Hiding until you are found… 
You’re silent until your jobs done...

You made us angry, you made us cry, you killed many of us…
However, you will never come close to a glorious ~Victory~ 
We are  “PINK LADIES,” who  continue to be strong
I will find a way to sew my chest back to it's caressing view!

One day will find the cure,
And, destroy YOU "The miserable ‘Breast Cancer’ Disease" 
"ONCE AND FOR ALL!"


by;PD

Dedicated to all the females of the world. 
((And men whose life touched by this disease))


Details | Free verse | |

STILL WINTER

Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer

Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around. 
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…     
~BY: PD~

Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey 

There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~

(for Catie's: Re-write contest..) 


Details | Epic | |

What is a Woman

What makes a girl?
Is it not “sugar and spice and all things nice”?
What makes a woman? Oh…all that and so much more
A woman is made of sugar…sweet to the taste
Spice…Oh…she can burn your tongue and soul
All things nice?  Hmmmm…
Things….let me define them for you...

The warmth of her body
The warmth of her soul
Her nurturing heart
How she makes a man whole
Her soft curvy form
Her luscious sweet lips
Her pillowy bosom
Her curvaceous hips
Her eyes that can speak
In many a way
Her hands that massage
All the worries away
Strength that bears
The pain of giving birth
How she puts herself down
To give you more worth

She is wispy and dreamy
Ethereal, unreal
Sent from above
To make a man feel
She is a seductress
Who can  be a  friend
She is the strong one
On whom to depend

Who can define her?
She is beyond all this…
The mystery of life
Is contained in her kiss!!!


Now…..For the glimpse of her other side!! I’m posting an old poem of mine, 
Warrior Princess. Yes, women can HUNT as well! Read them and Weep. 

The Warrior Princess

Don’t think me fragile, quick to break
No, don’t ever make that mistake
My warrior spirit’s deep and strong
I can avenge when faced with wrong
I am the Warrior Princess
	
I gallop on my mighty steed
Brandish my sword, fulfill my need
What my eyes crave, I swoop to take
No human dares this heart to break
I’m the Warrior Princess

With mad abandon, I make love
With eagle talons, I’m no dove
I subjugate, and I command
Full surrender to each demand
I’m the Warrior Princess

When you think me supple and weak
The fire in my eyes will speak
I play a role, capture your soul
I dominate not part but whole
I am the Warrior Princess

In my veins the power to rule
No man can play me for a fool
Yes, he may think my heart is won
But can you hold the blazing sun?
I’m the Warrior Princess

My fierce passion, you cannot match
Your body from her bed I’ll snatch
Ravish you till I’ve had my fill
Might let you live or I might kill
FOR I’M THE WARRIOR PRINCESS

Eileen Manassian Ghali

You can never DEFINE a woman!


Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

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


Details | Romanticism | |

Pursue Love

Pursue love,
the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.

We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.

My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.

Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.

-9/26/2013-


Details | Epic | |

Lipstick Night

A Beautiful woman
Sweet Voice, Hypnotizing eyes
Displays of smiles
Emotions of lies 
Life seems normal
No obvious dismays
Yet you have no idea about her life or necessary ways.
You would never know what story she has to tell
You would never know how she lives so well
Not an average career Yet one so real
Only the true Lipsticks now she  truly feels.
Shadows with no name
Conversations with no face
Only thing relevant is the action taking place
Makeup just right
Hair up tight
Eyelashes fluttering
Along with whispers in the night
They want to know more about her
So they try and converse
She accepts no emotional visitors 
Strictly business & Dead presidents to place in her purse
Her lipstick leaves her mark 
Dismisses those nameless shadows when the magic is done
Strictly pure survival
All work no fun
It Keeps the luxury in her pockets
A smile on her face
She a woman of strenth and undeniable grace
Sweet woman by day
A Beautiful host by night
Welcome to her world
Of a Lipstick Night


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Tug


The fog reminded him the winter's edge
how faster can the nightly riding be?
he felt the overthrow and painful sledge,
- the asphalt hit the rider departee.

The roar was heard amid the falling snow
the bike capsized - and hard he fell to slug,
across the never reached horizons' glow,
received her bridal kiss and asphalt's tug.

He danced with her beneath the nimbus cloud
- enjoining the magnificence of waltz;
bestowed, denoted valor, fore avowed,
ambrosial her remembrance was, and false.

Beforetime she became his fate in mists,
perceived their airy dance, surpassed treetops
lithe daughter of woods' emptiness, not kissed
on fares unvisited, where searching stops.

Inside the nimbus celebrating Halls
Collegiate was the feast's inviting dance,
trajectory redemptive, death-ride tolls,
- was thoughtful and cognizable her glance.

So standing tall 'mid honors and dusk shades,
recalled the margins that he raced upon,
three hundred for Persephone of Hades
to be his wed on skyline's denouement.

The bullocky V-engine echoes thence
and crowns the basalt rocks atop the brae
when riders pass and fog is hazy-dense
upon his street-bike-fighter see him sway.

© 09-04-2013, George Venetopoulos
(Iambic pentameter)


Details | Romanticism | |

Ode to Mi Corazon

As I pull weeds from cracks in sidewalks
Yout sit on top of thrones made of solid gold
And I pay no mind to the women around me,
Only to your beauty do I hold an Ode.

I see my fair Spanish lady
my daring, sweet rose with thorns,
That run up and down her spine.
As she stops in the daily parade
Waving at the peasants,
She looks at me and summons her guards
Too take me away.

Her beauty is unbearable.
I cannot take not being with her
For a single moment in my life.
Her hair,
Black like coal,
Her smile is bright, as the first rays of the Red Sun
In the dawn.
Her lips painted with ruby lipstick,
her silk laced dress and shawl wrap around her,
Like a beautiful butterfly in her cocoon.
Her skin of olive, dark color and her green eyes.
My God, those sweet and piercing green eyes
Oh, how they hit my soul and make me shiver with excitment.
She is intoxicating and I am intoxicated in her beauty.

She is like an angel, a Latina beauty who walks the streets paved gold,
As I walk the cracked, cobblestone walkways.
She shines in the Spanish sun, like a dimoand in the ruff
As you blow the dust off her sweet brow,
she glows and sparkles with extordinary excellence.

She is beautiful and sweet and kind.
She loves me, but her father minds.
I am only a peasant, and she royalty.
Can our love ever be together in one holy matrimony?
I pray to the Lord, of all that is good,
Please give me a sign that she loves me.

Soon a storm came over,
blowing me down to the ground
And a cloud of dust swallowed me whole.
A great Conquistador on a great white stallion
pulled me up and told me that she wanted to see me.
I shacked with nervous of joy as I followed the warrior.

She was there, under a palm tree
Near a beautiful beach in Barcelona.
She smiled and a glow covered me with passion.
I hugged her and kissed her upon her sweet lips.
I tasted virginity and she tasted loyalty.
We both tasted beauty and harmony.
As the warrior left us,
We made love upon a vigin white sheet,
Soon covered with a flowing river of red.
She moaned with exticy and love was in the air.
The Ode to my sweet Spaniad, Mi Corazon!

We lay there in each others arms
Looking up at a clear night sky
The twilight glimmered ever so softly
And a shooting star blazed across the sky
I kissed her and she kissed me.
I whispered in her, "My love forever"
And she pushed me back upon the sheets
and we made sweet and ever lasting love again.
As we looked in each other's almond colored eyes.
I said to her, in a soft voice, Mi Corazon.


Details | Romanticism | |

A Flower's Funeral

A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.

Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.

Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.

Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.

What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.

My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.

Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
Long walks,
cosy talks,
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.

-10/6/2013-


Details | Romanticism | |

My Persian Queen

From the Gardens of Babylon,
to the walkways of Palestina,
to the grand temples of Jerusalism,
to the sandy beaches of Syria and Cyprus.
Went my Persian Queen riding,
upon her golden, firery chariot.

Her black hair, like silk long and flowing.
Her royal robes white and purple, bare and pure.
Her sword by her side, ready to strike.
Her spear fastened, ready to stab the dreeded heart
of the Fire Dragon.
On the firery chariot, riding with her armies,
Went my Perisan Queen.

O, how my arimes fight your armies,
in the midst of night fall, under a full moon.
Let us stop this foolish fighting.
And have fellow brother, love fellow brother.
And so we can fall in love forever.

And don't act like you don't show love for me.
I see you in the dawns, standing upon the sand covered battlefields.
Standing proud behind your armies.
With your black hair flowing.
You almost making me want not to fight the battle of the Day,
for if you were killed, what victory would that be then?

You pull your armies back at the last minute, before I am slayed
by your fellow brother in arms.
You retreat your arimes back over the hills, not in fear of losing the day,
but in fear of losing me.
You and your armies had plenty of chances to kill me, yet you do not.

My Persian Queen, O come now.
Come down from your firery chariot
and into my restless arms.
I know you are tired
and wanting to sleep.

Listen to the nightingale
sing her love song.
Drinking the sweet necture,
from the gardens, in your vase Persian Empire.

Come now, and kiss me,
Hold me, let us ride,
far from the simple minds of the Old World
and fall in love in a New.

My Persian Queen
O how I love you so much.
I cannot bare to see you in a life you don't want to live.
Come let I, your Knight in shinning armour liberate you.
Take you by the hand, run through the great bazzare in Old Istanbul
running away from the Janissaries of your father's Imperial armies.

Let us leave this place of hate and sorrow.
To start our lives a new.
My Persian Queen,
Now dressed in silk lace,
with golden jewlery hanging
from your beautiful and tender neck.
Along with the silver pattened belt around your harmonial waist.

It is time for you, to come with me.
No more shall we act like we dispise one another.
As Romeo and Juliet's love failed,
shall our love take course, and we shall love
till the oceans swallow the earth, the mountains crumble,
and the Sun engulf the sweet Earth.
And on and on shall our love go on,
My adorable and lovely Persian Queen.


Details | Prose | |

She

She's the flour in the middle of a fertile desert soil
She dreams of my dreams when i dream she dreams dreams that we dream
She's a speechless pole
She's a footstep away from my soul
She dreams of my goal
She's my African queen
Her womb carriers the nation's poetry
She takes me back to my dreams in chains
I make my own God she believes
She's one minute past jealousy
She's the speed of an angry poem in the dark
The black paint building an arch
The spirit of a mic resurrected by a dead poem
Speechless pole stronger than cone
She's my poem
She's my poetic lyrical port
I can see by the blushes right under my rhymes
She's so beautiful she makes you read her repetedly
She's my poem


Details | Free verse | |

Two Hearts full of Love

I am a heart full of love
that shook the pilars that held her colussium up
her heart filled with sorrow,
I swing such fury toward her heart and soul
she cowards away from me,
in fear of falling in love and not knowing what is in black
and not searching what is in the light of pure white.

I am a heart full of love,
she runs and takes the long dirt road,
through the raging mountains of the quiet countryside,
as the meadows of lilacs slowly die when Spring comes,
the blooming of the rose,
like the blooming of my heart,
a blossom on a cherry tree fall and harbour in the wintertime.
I swing toward her, she falls in fear of wanting attention and love.
Lost in the midnight twilight,
the flaming torch guides her through the dark holes of meaningless souls.
and like a frightened hummingbird,
she flees away from the secrets of falling in love.

A heart full of love ready to love,
it is diffcult to feel and to show,
but as if a rose that blooms in Springtime
my love is ready to bloom.

Pettles lay along a darkened atmosphere
lit up only with four wax candles
a portrait of a woman hung over a mantel piece
in honour of my one true love.

As the twilight shine though my bedroom window,
I show a heart full of love,
to take and to hold for eternity.

And as she slowly moves forward,
she takes me home with her,
and opens her chest and shows me her heart
with a glass of red wine and charming cigarette.
She sheads tears of pain and sorrow on my broud shoulder,
I curise her hair, silk laced hair,
shining against the twilight and the moonlit sky.

My heart full of love,
so divine, so original
a one of a kind.

We make love in the midst of the twilight,
as my dream girl is now reality and my pain is no more,
her pain is no more.
Too show such love makes a man feel free
and his soul lighter.
She holds him there,
as the sun rises over the mountains.
The birds sing a tune of cheerfulness,
and they talk about everything beautiful and kind,
that is still left in this cruel and empty hearted world.

Romance and love shared
with a heart full of love,
smile and kiss upon smooth lips,
feel me against your tight body,
and love me till the morning
when Blue eyed Death is staring us in the face.
and we go with him,
and play a game of risk,
and together forever,
onto a diffrent world
we shall love each other forever,
for you and I both have a heart full of love.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 37 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 37 /Many

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


You will find my beloved, dear letter,
Faded like the clouds full of water,
Like after the night enjoyment dear,
The woman appears in the morning.

You will find her face pale, dear letter, 
And her steps would be heavy and slow,
When you will notice these signs in her,
She is in pregnancy, you will come to know.

The gloom and paleness, on her face would have come, 
Because of her separation from me, in her pregnancy,
Leaving her ornaments aside, dear letter,
You would find only love and modesty in her. 

While beholding her beautiful lotus stem like hands,
They would look without the glow of shine, due to gloom,
When that lovely woman would appear before you,
To greet and welcome you, dear letter.

My beloved has not received any news about me,
Since a long time, dear letter,
While looking at her face  You would watch, This  
Has weathered the natural glow of her beauty.



Ravindra

Kanpur India      7th Sept 2010                     continues in 38.

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.





Details | Free verse | |

Tell Me Why

Why?
Why?
Why?

Tell me why?
Tell me why?
Tell me why?

Was it, because I was too nice,
I was too much of a gentleman,
or was just too much to handle?

Was it, because you were young?
Was it, because you couldn't find your heart,
in all that darkness?
Was it, because you just didn't feel the love?

Why?
Why me?
A man like me, deserves no pain,
no heartbreak.
So, why me?

I pray and ask the Gods,
why!
But an unresponsive god never speaks to me.
He sits there and watches... watching what?
Nothing, but a heart being torn to shreds.

Was it, because I was too careful?
Was it, because I loved too much?
Was it, because one half of the heart couldn't fit the whole?

I ask you, because I still love you.
Come to me, my beautiful,
stop this nonsense,
I cannot make you love me,
but I sure can try to show you love.

Do not blink,
do not take a gift sent down from the Gods
for granted.
Appriciate what you have,
appriciate me, because one day,
when you need a shoulder to cry one,
you will not be able to find me, anywhere.
I will be lost,
in a fool's dream of romance and love,
that will never come on my front doorstep.
Still dreaming of the possibilities of you and I.
My heart is with you always,
but I will soon expire,
so do not wait too long.

-10/5/2013


Details | Epic | |

Story of Afghanistan

Story of Afghanistan

The barren land of my birthplace
Green at times but screening a rocky face
Known for thousands of years for its warrior race
Let me tell you the truth,
No one really wanted this “space”.

Up until two lions began prying around
Initially, just fooling around
Afterwards, casting off their cannon sound
Resembling the 6th night of an infant’s fête
Building their castles, and so began the burial grounds.

The lions pledged to crush the other
With a master plan
Dividing the blood brothers
Such was the instruction of the queen mother
As the clans clashed and killed one another.
The chiefs were swallowed by the promise of gold
The mullahs were swapped for the hollow soul
The seniors by the fire recounted and foretold
The purpose for the lion’s vehemence
This story definitely in time will unfold.
The old grew timeworn
Waiting for their young ones to return home
The teenagers free born
Screamed out of their mosques’ domes
Come and join us in this struggle
Faced with the crusaders of the Church of Rome,
But little did they know,
No one will return but the maimed men to a funeral home.

The sturdier lion won the combat
But what has become of my Afghanistan
The wolf in a sheep’s disguise
Has spoiled my jade paradise
My heart denies it but I may have bombed my youthful chums,
This is now a global land-dwelling for bums and slums!
The lion wishes to be unveiled this time
So he promises to take the last dime
After all it pays to cooperate in war crimes!
He roars in a deafening cry
I bring Democracy to this land
With loads of cash in one hand
A whip in the back hand--forgetting the long years of perfidy
I now declare and demand
This is the new Promised Land.
 A woman of this realm is exposed with a promise
She is liberated by democracy
Famous on national publications like the story of Pocahontas
She’s affirmed independent and agreed to arise out of the darkness
As the saga is read to the United States Congress
She exhales
And anticipates the lion’s hunger
Waiting for the day when she will be veiled, unveiled, and then veiled again
Not by ordinary men
But by inscription of law.
Thank you for sealing the decree!


Details | Free verse | |

Don't Try It

A single kiss from thy lovely lips,
so sweet and so divine,
yet I taste posion upon your tongue.

Your beauty so glorious,
like a blooming rose so beautiful,
yet, why do mine eyes go blind
in the sight that you walk along with another?

Yes you, walk with another,
arm under arm,
lips touching lips in romantic kisses,
it makes my blood boil,
for mine lips are dry.

For mine eyes have seen your glory,
yet no one here listens to my story.
You are evil, yes you are,
don't try to deny,
Listen to a man of experience,
you might as well save some expense.

I write of our long romantic walks
we took together, under the shade of olive trees,
how we went apple picking in autumn time,
and made love in the foyer.

Nomore of that sweet and passionate love,
nomore silent kisses in the night,
when the wind blows hard against the branches,
that tape violently on my windowpane. 
Nomore somber tears shed, when you got sick,
and nomore warm embraces when you shed tears of betrayal.

Betrayal now is a game played by a fool,
such as I,
to think I'd have a happy life with you?
Huh, only a fool would think such a thing,
but now I sit, looking at the foyer,
where we once made sweet, passionate love,
nomore will that foyer be filled with exotic pleasure.
Nomore will you be filled with smiles and exotic pleasure.
I've done my job, as a good man shall do,
now pack your things and get of my stage,
the spotlight yawns for anew,
and the audience grows tired and restless of you.

Now I live life anew,
you too shall see life in new eyes,
walking hand and hand with the blond, blue eyed devil
you call your own.
Shall he take one kiss from your lips,
and die of the posion he tastes on your tongue,
shall he go blind, when he sees your true, black beauty?
He will see the ugly soul, covered up by white rags,
and cheap makeup,
and then he will come to me,
and shake my hand in condolence
and say, "You were right!"

Now you are all alone,
looking for another, as you did many times before,
Now you are alone, walking an open road,
spying on another,
fear of being alone.
Now, you see when you play games with a good man's emotions,
don't try it,
because a good man is not meant to be toyed with.


Details | Romanticism | |

Am I Crazy, to Love You

Am I crazy, or am I just talking to myself?
Look at yourself,
Crazy maniac
dacing through twilight suns
in sunshine colored dresses.
And you say I'm the crazy one.
Please, don't make me laugh,
I am too much annyoid with taught lessons,
of life and death and love is a magical thing
but I am not impressed till my Gypsy Queen
comes up from the shoreline of the Middle East
and comes and lays next to me, as we watch the ships sail
through the Golden horn of Old Istanbul
into the bay of Asia Minor.
You say I am crazy, Am I or am I just talking to myself.
I believe I am having a conversation that has no end about your beauty,
I talk to whomever has an open ear, and even if people listened,
Who would care about what I have to say?

Since I first laid eyes upon your beauty,
I melted and you took my sanity away from me,
you took my innocence away and turned me into a worried monster.
I love you, and you take me home with you
to meet your father and mother,
both poets who made love and created a beautiful poem called you.
I am in love with you, your songs you sing,
sounding better than a nightingale in the midst of the twilight.
Walking the seashores with your mother as I talk to your father.
He isn't listening, all though he is a good actor,
for he acts if he knows what I say to him.
I talk of you and marriage,
throwing of the rice, exchanging of the golden crowns,
the tolling of church bells, and a happy reception afterwards.
The honeymoon, meant for the first born to carry on the family crest.

As we grow old, I want to grow old with you
Nothing now, a few thousand miles of ocean and sea
seperates us from each other.
Do not worry, for I shall come one day
in the month of May, your mother's favorite month
and I shall bring along a golden ring, a pearl necklace and two roses.
We shall walk the streets together hand and hand,
and wait for the wedding guests to arrive and see us on our way
to new beginnings in holy mantrimony.
Care for me,
I ask you one question, Am I crazy, or am I just talking to myself?
Talking to white walls that don't responed with life.
I need you, too give me a straight answer, to love me
embrace me with your beauty and let me drink from your knowledge.
For my sweet Persian Bride, I shall love you for eternity.
Now, come off the beach and cross the crossing paths
of mortality and morality and join hands with me,
as we sing the nights away, along with the sweet nightingales.
As we look into each other's eyes
I ask you, am I crazy to love you?


Details | Romanticism | |

My Beautiful Penelope

Oh my sweet and beautiful Penelope
Oh how beautiful you are, and when I see you come down
to the pearl gates of immortality and come down to see me,
as we join hands and walk the shorelines
I see you my beautiful Penelope, she you who walks through beauty,
We shall join in immortality.
Your heart built of stone and paved in golden
you born out of the beauty of a rose and maturity of a lady
you are the one who never sings a depressing and low melody.

My Beautiful Penelope,
The one beautiful lady form Napoli
Oh, how you walk in such glory.
See me look over you and hear my heart beat
for you, I love you, see me for I care about you.
Take it from me, for I shall take you by the hand
and as our shadows rise to meet us in the morning
I can make love to you, then we shall love the night away.
My beautiful Penelope, as I take you through the twilight
we dream of shooting stars falling from the evening skies,
as we hold each other close,
take me and I shall take you and bring each other together,
and fuse us together with a sweet and loving kiss.

She is my beauty and I love her
she takes me by the hand and curels me to her warm chest.
Cares for me,
Makes me laugh,
Makes me feel good and uplifts my soul
everytime I lay my almond eyes upon her beauteous body.
My beautiful Penelope, oh how I see the glory in your blue eyes,
your luxurious, long flowing hair colored golden
like the rays of the morning sun.

Dare to care
about such beauty in her eyes?
Dare to care
about such beauty in her cries,
as she tells me of her suicide struggles?
I hold you close to me
and I hope you to be
my love for all eternity.
See me and I see you to tell me about you and your day,
as you come home and say,
That you love me.
And I shall say I love you too,
with a zealous attitude in my voice
I shall take you into our room and you shall tell me about your day.
You shall tell me, under the shadows of the trees, the houses, the red rocks.
I shall show you love in a handful of roses,
deliver you a bouquet of roses and violets,
as we see the breeding lilacs grow tall,
we shall lay in the grasslands and look up at the clouds,
that shape themselves into beautiful paintings in the glorious blue sea
we call the sky.

Oh My beautiful Penelope
my glorious maiden lady,
who sings such beauty in her melody
that it brings tears to nightingales' eyes.
My beautiful Penelope, you are my love
here are a dozen roses for you to express and show my love for you,
my beautiful Penelope.
Love is eternal with you.


Details | Romanticism | |

I'm dead without my Love

I am dead without my love.
It is simple as that.
I cannot breath without her,
I cannot eat without her,
I cannot write without her.
I cannot live without my love,
I am dead without my love.

I cannot prosper without her warm embrace,
I cannot think without her by my side.
always thinking of her, sharing her love I once had,
with another.
My heart breaks,
and my mind is gone.
I weap... I weap...
I cannot handle the betrayal of my once love.
I am stuck, sitting in dark corners of dark rooms,
staring at blank walls, thinking of what once was.

Her beauty,
her smile,
the laughs shared, and the tears we weaped together.
Holding hands, you and I, walking down sandy beaches,
and beautiful highways, full of love.
How we sat on park benches and kissed the night away.
I cannot believe you are gone, with another.

I did what I could,
I loved you endless time on my hand.
Our time spent together was special and near to the heart.
Do not expect for that happiness to come again.
For that has sailed, to far East, to the rising of the new day.

But, I cannot live one more day without my love.
For what I had with her is unexplainable and beautiful beyond definition.
I have seen the wayward signs point me to the direction of you.
But when we see each other, you don't spare a passing glance,
as if I was a ghost, an invisible man, like air.
That is when my heart breaks, torn in two, I cannot see me without you.
Walk with another, shall I go, now this without you.

For she is my everything, beauty and nature.
She is my rose, my violet, my nightingale singing her songs, in the twilight.
She is the sky, the sun, the moon, the trees, the grass.
She is everything to me.
She is even the summer storms and Winter blizzards that roll in and destroy,
beauty and harmony.

I cannot live without my love, for she is my one and only.
I do not like to beg, but love me once again and live with me forever.
For you know and I know, and the world knows,
That I cannot live without you,
I cannot live without my love,
For I am dead without my love.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

WOMAN

Day by day we pray to stay alive, ladies, the face of this world is slowly changing, no longer do we need to hold our heads in disgrace, and it’s about time we take our place. No longer let us be connived, nor let us forget the silent cries in trees that our sista’s souls are still hangin’, see the true in others denies rather waistin’ yourself complaining. Nor keep us from strength to stand by man, strength to leave if struck by hand, no more bruises upon our face for we also help to make this race. No more scars upon our souls for only marked with beauty moles and let our stories be fortold for we are women who behold, a key to inspiration and moral pride, coming out of our hide, Gods rules are to which one should only apply, but most chose pain to keep inside, left alone and died. Your elimination of God’s creation, we are but faith to this nation. Men of ignorance we are sick of belligerence, cuz we prove intelligence, cuz where there’s no woman there is no man strong and on this land we belong as distinct and separate persons walk along. Before your ignorance get the respect that you so vainly seek, practice what you claim til' all things you do or speak shall in reality be the same, nor let us be so eased to blame and give us our well earned past due fame, all musical and sorrowful stories contained. My people, make me proud to know your name and I’ll return the favour by doing the same.
For all men whom think us fast, remember the good ones always finish last, we women are still raped future and past so personally you can kiss my ... In us your babies wombs all your life fluids we consume, to mothers growing up too soon, to those mommas babies and daddy’s maybes.....REMEMBER, when your round to actin' shady, we are the ladies of this land, women with pride we stand, I am a WOMAN and for equal respect, I would do it again!!!


Details | Epic | |

An Egyptian Beauty

Oh gracious daughter of Aye
beautiful woman has come
queen of joy pleasing to thy king
Oh green eyed silent beauty
Voice as sweet as a kind heart
Eye brows as straight as an arrow
Oh great beauty of Aton
Fingers coated with melted gold
Shaped with a swarm like neck
Oh princess among many others
Resolute cheeks steady as gaze
Gleaming hair with colored locks
Oh woman as capable as a man
 lips as bright as berry fondant
Eyes outlined with silver glimmer
Oh daughter dark and comely
Legs long like the harvestman
Waist as round as a circle
Oh queen of beauty and devotion
Won respect in history of women
As most beautiful in your time
Remembered for beauty and power


Details | Free verse | |

I lay sleeping

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.


Details | Free verse | |

Wake Me, When the Morning Comes

A night full of nightmares
and suicidal tendencies,
feeling pain rush, like tidal waves
crushing me and blood boiling
anger wishes and takes the best of me;
but can I heal my own heartbreak?
Will I ever find love again?
See the angel of death come to me,
smiles and says come with me.
Oh, Wake me, when the morning comes,
so I can show evil the light.

Feelings eternal and fragile,
she walks some lonesome highway
travelled by the ones who fall in love.
She a grand fool, who takes life for 
granted,
wake her with the morning light
and shine down rays of goodness and 
pride
and show her the path that leads back to 
me.

Wake me when the morning comes,
place her upon my doorstep
and a smile upon her loving face,
I'm not ready to move on just yet.
I don't want anymore nightmares
and nightly visits from the black angels.
I don't want to see blue eyed Death,
with his grinning skull and black robe.
I want to see the sunshine break through 
my window
and I want to hear the birds sing love 
songs,
and the trees dancing to the wind's sweet 
melody.
I want to awake to her sweet and glorious 
beauty.
Wake me, when the morning comes,
when I can open my eyes to anew
and see life in a new day,
and live life in a new way.

-10/5/2013-


Details | Romanticism | |

Do not travel the lonesome road

Do not travel the lonesome road
alone with no one by your side,
sitting on park benches all alone
with no one to come to your need,
do not travel the open road alone.
That one dark road that kicks up dust
when you drag your feet across the ground,
that lonesome road that has no end,
that has no beginning, that has no life;
it just sits there alone and no one ever notices this road.
Do not travel the lonesome road of my heart.
Come with me, take my hand
I shall guide you with the beat of my heart,
with the light from mine eyes, I shall take you
and show you the world and all it's seven wonders.
You are beautiful and you do not need to walk
the lonesome road alone.

I see the pain in your heart,
I feel the tears that fall from your eyes
and drop into my hands,
come into my warm embrace
and I shall love you.
Cherish a moment so grand,
just come with me and we shall walk together
in united glory and sleep the night away,
but promise me one thing my love;
Do not walk the lonesome road of life.

-10/6/2013


Details | Free verse | |

What did I do to deserve this

What I do to deserve this heartbreak,
this horrid and unnatural pain,
this cleche of events that strike me simultaneously
as the time ticks away,
and as the grinning faces pierce a whole through my soul
and my heart turns pale and slowly beats.
My heart is torn in two,
and I cannot find the doctors to stich me up.
I ask an old man,
how does love go about,
he smaked me in the face and went on.
The pain and the sorrow,
it is too much to feel,
too much to gain in one serving,
When I eat, I taste posion, not passion,
familiar faces turn grey, with ruby eyes and sharp fangs
they hiss at me, like a cat to a mouse.
I don't understand why I deserve this.
I am a good man,
who loves with open arms and a big heart.
With every hug I give,
I recieve a knife of betrayal in my back,
I feel the blood ooze from my open wounds,
suicidal tendencies roll through my mine,
but I quickly throw them out,
because Mama didn't raise no coward.
I see the blow, I clench my fists
and swing away,
God cries wanting to stop this madness,
Death laughs and soon joins in,
people join in and punch away.
I lay there on the concret blood everywhere,
my heart torn out of my chest,
each with a thousand knives stabbed in it,
as it slowly beats,
I lay their on the pavement,
looking up to the heavenly skies,
and as it starts to rain droplets of hope
I ask myself,
What did I do to deserve this?
Then, I shall close my eyes
and rest for awhile.

-9/23/13-

Inspired by all the betrayal and heartbreak I've faced, by so many cowards who didn't want to recieve my love. People I had thought who were my friends, came with invitations of humiliation and hate, and now I see who my real friends are; this pen and paper... Have a good day.
P.S. No one should ever be shown this much betrayal and heartbreak. I wouldn't even wish it on my worst enemy. Have a good day!


Details | Lyric | |

In Bloom

Written July 29, 2013


The wind blows the rainbows down
Turns your frown upside down
Then spins it back around

The sun hides the moon
Underneath its coat in bloom
The flowers came late this June

The rain in a teardrop
Falls like dew from a leaf
When she looks at me

See that look upon her face
Used to take her to the stars
Now she's headed back from Mars

Now that Venus loves her more
Wouldn't throw her to the floor
Like before


Details | Free verse | |

My Love Intended

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.

Love everlasting,
everything everlasting,
cigarettes smoked together.

A cloud over our heads
in the shape of a heart
my love.


Details | Free verse | |

Like the frightened Jackrabbit, I run away from Love

Jump up and down like a jackrabbit
running through meadows
running from what?
Could it be heartbreak,
a venemous snake that hides in the grass,
hiding with fangs ready to pierce the tender skin
upon the tight, bronze flesh of everyday life?
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now!
I need a vacation a long way away from the faceless smiles
and ignorance of young girls, who don't look at you,
who don't show you love and respect.
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now,
as jumping spiders hop everywhere, crawling eight legs around me
my soul black like carcoal, but my heart still beating
slower this time, not like the days before
and like the jackrabbit running from anything and everything,
I run to seek love and vanish away from the empty voids
that people call, their souls.
Recording a film with no tape,
talking to a woman you love, but not having the guts to tell her how you really feel
Jump my boy, like a jackrabbit, take my advice
tell her before she leaves
turns down the endless avenues of endless dark love
the trees grow taller, taller than you
and you sit there feeling away yourself die, missing out in life.
I cannot see you lose your love.
Say it, say it, Say it!!! Tell her! Tell her! Build the guts up!
Build up the courage, tell her how you feel. Take her by the hand and never say goodbye! Never say goodnight, stay with her till the flight comes in the morning
of the first rays of sun shine through your dorm room take her and love her!
Do not be like me, the jackrabbit! I see no happiness
Reading poetry it makes me sad,
to write of others falling in love and I never finding the one.
People tell me, you'll find yours, have hope
but I am a frightened little jackrabbit
who flees from sounds of deep emotions, not having courage to fall in love,
not building the guts up to tell her how I really feel.
She walks alone, I find my oppertunity and sing my love song
She smiles and moves on,
please tell me I cannot fight anymore.
All I have to say is Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I need a vacation
to go to some sandy beach on an island of love
and write and write and write, the same poetry that depresses me
but makes you all fall in love with words!
Fiction about love stories, please kiss me
Blue eyed death comes, plays a game of chess with me
I bet twenty, he bets my soul
Kiss me death, the only love I'll ever get,
besides my poet friends who kiss my ass
Listen to my heart, truely, I don't write of beauty
I write for the sorrow soul, the fleeing jackrabbit
running away from love.....


Details | Free verse | |

My Grandfathers Dying Wish

See problems they no worry Timothy
He was raised by his Great Grandmother
One day she taught him
Miho you can make life beautiful or ugly
Work hard, find a woman who has a strong back
Beauty fades it doesn’t last long
Now let me tell you 
A woman with a strong back may not be your perfect companion
Times are changing, I think Faith is more important these days
I say okay Grandma, can I have the horachata now that you made me
No hush up! You can have it when I’m finished talking
Timothy come your poor Grandfather wanted you to have this
It is his Journal and I have never read out of it
She hands it to me
I am struck by it’s cover, it is brown and plain
Yet it spoke to me by it’s elegant style
These words were printed on the cover “Blanco Vendetta”
I was drawn and pulled in untill I was covered by the spell
The first page I open too it says “My first Mil Besos”
The Temptess that blew my heart away
I turn to page 33
It says “The story of an Apache Warrior”
There are no rules to an Apache Warrior when it comes to fighting
He says if you are my enemy I don’t care how but I’m gonna kill you
Page 41 is like a fist full of words thrown across the page
Barrio boxing, The protection of the Shield of Faith
Brokenhearted for my careless speech has left her heartbroken
Strengthened by Love “Amor”
Nourished by the sunshine in her hand
There is healing in its beams
Blessed by her presence Del Dios I am Greatful
I’m like Grandpa what did you say wrong
Then these words come to me
Give her your full attention when she speaks to you
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
So I close it and my finger brushes a bookmark
It’s the Last page
It says To: “Timothy my son who is as mighty as an army”
I Thank you for the Greatest Gift
For the Greatest Gifts are as small as your small hand that touched me
I plant these seeds and they will take root and grow because you are good ground
Timothy let me say That without you I would of never found my Faith in GOD
Listen for it is your Grandfather who is dead and speechless
Timothy you see the good in everything
And I know you will understand my words clearly
If a man gives you his word
Promise me not to plan your future on it
And if you give your word my son
Do everything in your Power to fulfill it
AND NEVER Promise more than you can deliver 
For it is better to put out more than you promised
Everyman is considered unwise when he appears foolish
I wish I could give you some insight about women
But your Great Grandmother may help you better than I can
But never timothy, Never be quick to fall in Love 
Or give your heart to a woman
Listen carefully to her words when she speaks to you
Cherish Her give her your full undue attention 
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
Love your neighbors as yourself
And do not strive against another man
If he has done nothing wrong to offend you
AS much as it is possible live peacefully with all men
And it is okay for you to speak these things with your Great Grandmother
She is a very wise and God-fearing woman
Amor take the greatest care of her, I Love you Son
Timothy when the time comes to avenge my death
Hit harder then you ever have before
But not in a Duel son, not like an open Vendetta
Marry his daughter Maria
The one who is pretty and Two years younger than you
Oh! He will suffer greatly!
And it will kill him to know that I chose this way to repay him
And remember son to be ready to fight any man at the drop of a hat


Details | Blank verse | |

The Edge

The woman steps out on the balcony of her high rise apartment and among the buildings and streets and stoplights witnesses a fulcrum, an edge.
An edge, the edge, the intersection of beginnings and endings,
The moment when crops are ripe for harvest.
The edge calls to us and invites us to forsake what is known,
The edge calls us to test the limits of our understanding,
And step into an abyss of possibility,
Sinking down into relaxed awareness of beauty,
The edge awaits us.
The edge, where race no longer matters and neither does popularity,
The edge, where souls delight in the magic of music,
The edge, where souls delight in the power of seasons to change and death to beget life,
The edge is where we are neither disappointed at what we have not done or anxious that we will not continue in doing,
The edge is where we can see a life, a leaf, a soul for what it is without a biased back story of prejudiced contrivance,
The edge is where babies go when they are awakened in the womb,
The edge is the horizon where sunrises and twilight take our breath to the height of admiration,
For only God can make this atmosphere to shine just right as the sun and moon dance their dance of gratitude,
The edge is what I wish for now and always,
The woman steps out of her house in the mountains and among the stars hidden in sunshine and premature butterflies hidden in billowy leaves on trees she witnesses an edge, a fulcrum.
Where divinity and gratitude explode in the praise of creativity and the worship of life anew.
Edges, edges where comfortable platitudes have no voice and ignorant assumptions are ostracized,
Come quickly edges, come quickly edges and embrace me.


Details | Romanticism | |

A Dedication to my Darling Mystic

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
around us,
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
your LoveSlayer,
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.


Details | Ballad | |

WHALING SHIP CAPTAIN's LOVER part 3

WHALING SHIP CAPTAIN"S LOVER      part 3

Now Jorgie met a new love
He begged to make her wife
First, they’d fetch her small boy
 to start a fresh new life.

So East they went to Minot
To find her cousin there
But when they came to his big house
His smile for them was spare.

The cousin was not happy
To relinquish that fine boy
He said his wife would waste away
Without her greatest joy

And Jorgie, solemn, studied them
The woman and the child  &
Wept with great compassion
Her broken heart ran wild.

Determined to do justice
Twas no one she could blame
Jorgie hugged the boy good bye
Her soul in raging flame.

She bid the woman love him
And tell him she was aunt
And with her newfound husband, John,
Departed pale and gaunt.

Now John, he was a good man
Who worshiped his new wife
They agreed to keep a secret
About her former life

And so away the years passed
Son came after son
Jorgie had a fresh life
They built a solid home.

Each month she mailed the  letters
To the ‘cousin’ in the west
She parceled up the photos 
true siblings in their best

But Sadness haunted Jorgie’s eyes
She tried to hide it well
But her  husband knew her---
 She had him in her spell.

So sad she was and so forlorn
He needed to confide
To someone who could help him
to cheer his cherished bride.

And so he told his sister
His wife had longed to see
From her past her loved ones---
Her own sweet family.

So sister Lena planned a scheme—
For Jorgie wild and free
the gift would be a great surprise
And John he did agree.

They would take the children
Aboard the westbound train
Jump the train at Minot
To see the boy again.

Wait they must til autumn
For Jorgie twas the best
In May would be a newborn babe
Nuzzling at her breast

Then hit the plague of ‘17
Entire towns were dead—
And  in their midst was Jorgie--
With her newborn-- cold, in bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note:  Jorgie : (pronounced Yor’ gee) was a nickname
Her name:  Sena Jorgine Larsen
My father’s mother. The baby named Clara.  My was nearly 4 when they died. His father, John Anderson—Jorgie’s husband , never remarried.  He lived to be in his 70’s. His sister, my great aunt, Lena Anderson Hildebrandt, told me this story in 1971.


PS  THERE IS ANOTHER PART TO THIS IF ANYONE WANTS TO READ IT LET ME KNOW. I DON'T WANT TO BORE ANYONE TO DEATH!  vat


Details | Free verse | |

There She Goes

There she goes,
a mile away from me already,
so fast to leave such a good man,
that showed her the world
and all its wonders.
Such a man as I,
does not need so much stress,
does not deserve such heartbreak.
I am a man who deserves smiles,
not heartbreak and pain.
To feel my heart race faster and faster
I lay at home with a smile
as God comes down to me,
shall I take his message and I shall dress
in such silk and cotton
and dance with the sun, moon and stars,
wait for a new woman,
steady paced woman she will come my way,
and take me by the hand,
like a fish to the bait onto the hook
up higher and higher she goes
into my net.
There she goes higher and higher,
farther and farther,
a mile further.
Love is strange,
just keep on smiling.


Details | Free verse | |

All Alone

There she sat, all alone.
I was nervous, I was kind,
I built up my courage, I built up my faith.
She looked good,
Her hair was curly and was flowing
she had a loud smile,
reading Kafka, she was sweet,
and I took a deep breathe,
and drowned in her beauty.
I finally stood up and started walking over,
till a man sat down next to her.
"Hey baby!"
"Hi, Honey!"
Those couple words were exchanged
and sealed with a single, wet kiss.
I went back to my seat,
and sat all quiet.
I wrote this poem,
all alone.

-10-25-2013-


Details | Classicism | |

An epic Woman

An Epic Woman  

Woman tell me your thoughts
Shall I be the fool and you the teacher?
Am I your Adonis, or do you see a toad.
Chivalry demands that I am your knight without reward,
For my kin is that of Beowulf and Lancelot,
Dragon slayers, so command me.

I am woman I need no gesture, for wisdom lies in,
Raindrops hung out to dry on silken cobwebs.
And in the beggar who is happy, while his king sleeps in fear
For my kin, blessed me with a rare beauty,
For my reflection rivals that of the queen Of Sheba
My thoughts entwined with the warrior queen Boudicea, 
My tenderness lies in queen Amyitis and her Hanging gardens of Babylon
My passion is that of Cleopatra for Mark Anthony,
And my faith equals that of Mary

So beware young Jason, speak from the heart, 
Or you will summon queen Kriemhides in me,
For she killed Attila the Hun for less,
This Woman will send you to phineas
A slave for the harpies, if you lie,

My lady, I have slain the sirens with Lyre music,
For my love for you was greater,
Alexander wept when there were no more worlds to conquer
Achilles killed Hector for Helen,
And King Leonidas defeated the Persian Empire
One glance from you and their deeds fade into oblivion,
Medea the Sorcerer, My mother,
Gave birth to me, for this moment.
Woman take my hand and show me your love


Jason of Argo, look into my eyes
For I see the soul of a man
Your shield is heavy to stop you running away.
Your Hero Achilles was slain by a true suitor Paris,
His love for Helen, was true.
You deceive all women.
Your Friend the Goddess Hera
Was killed by you,
It is my enslavement you seek, not love.

I send you to the Eighth Circle for Eternity to be whipped by Devils. For the Harpies deserve better.
And Remember, these words
The Wisdom of King Arthur,
When a Woman you seek, be honest at all times,
 No matter what the cost. 
And defend her faith, her home,
And her country with your life.
For these are the Thoughts of all Women.



Details | Free verse | |

Woman

Woman... they're all over...
Woman, you know what I mean.
They stride along breaking hearts
with smiles when they see what
they want, woman... fine creatures.

Soft hands and tender hearts,
reflexies like cats, wild tigers
and conversations of dark passion
that would make a young school boy
blush.
Woman... they have no boundaries...
No faith, no religion... Love till their
hearts are broken,
Then blame everything on the good guy.

Woman, their long hair flowing,
their smiles so bright,
with clothes that hug their
tight and oiled-skinned bodies;
They laugh at you,
when you say you're in Love.
They take it as an advantage
to break your heart
and kiss another man in front
of your very own eyes.

My advice, stay away from the woman,
She is mean, she is cold,
Sure she looks good, but she is a trick.
The whores need love, the whores are nice,
love them, love the real women of the world,
love them,
because they're not afraid to love you back.

-10-25-2013-


Details | Narrative | |

ELVIS my impression

                           This is my impression of Elvis Presley 
I was vey lucky to be 16 in 1956 when Rock and roll came into existence the greatest music of all time and for all time, this is what it all met to me.


Elvis was the big bang to creating music like the big bang was to creating the universe
Before Elvis their was no rock and roll, no music, no dancing 
His look was unique
His movements on stage were unique
His voice was the greatest like nothing ever heard before
His songs started the greatest music craze in the history of music rock and roll
He looked dangerous 
He looked like he was having the best time of his life on stage
Elvis didn’t give a damm who wrote his songs black or white
He was the first entertainer who did it all before anyone else did anything
Both men and women loved him
Elvis was a mans man
Elvis was a ladies man
Elvis was a gentleman
Elvis was a Christian 
Elvis was a momma’s boy
Elvis was respectful of his fans
Elvis was just one man who changed music forever in America in 1956 
When Elvis sings you have to smile, to tap your feet, clap your hands, move your body, and come alive
It’s 2013, 35 years since Elvis died 
He is still the major Icon of the music world
Elvis is still the most worshiped singer and entertainer in history
Thousands and thousands of fans visit his home each and every year
Elvis didn’t smoke or drink
Elvis became an actor but could have become an accomplished actor with the right people and advice around him
Coronel Parker was both good for Elvis and bad for Elvis
Liberace taught Elvis how to dress with flash
Elvis had his own way of moving on stage when he sang no one has ever duplicated his signature moves God know how many tried
Elvis served the country he loved when he was drafted into the army no complaining 
Elvis asked fro no special treatment while in the army 
Elvis loved the woman and the woman loved him back
Elvis was the greatest entertainer of all time
Elvis met his tragic and to soon end to his life he was only 42
Elvis was hooked on prescription pills and that’s what killed him
No one could tell Elvis what to do many tried all failed
The music died on the day Elvis died
It was so sad that Elvis felt so all alone so much of his life that is what fame does to you
Elvis was the King
No one else will ever occupy the Kings throne
Elvis loved to sing gospel songs no other entertainer of rock and roll ever did 
No entertainers star shines brighter or ever will
You can ask any great entertainer and there are hundreds and will all agree Elvis was the greatest entertainer of all time
No entertainer in the history of music ever had a first year success like Elvis had
I saw Elvis in Las Vegas in 1972  when the music started and you knew that Elvis was soon to be coming on stage the excitement and the anticipation in the room was over whelming and beyond compare everyone in the room was mesmerized


This is my remembrance of Elvis Presley

Dennis Davis
March 15, 2013


 



Details | Free verse | |

I Never Find The Train

I am beggar I am thief I am Eve Buried by belief I am leader I am breeder I am Adam Narcissistic feeder I lie inside the doorway Unable now to die I see the tortured infant Yet still I cannot cry Was drafted for the Nam Saw sixty thousand dead They read the dead a psalm And then the worms were fed I fought for love of country Unable there to die The death of friends and comrades And still I'm asking why I've been a rogue receiver And a dark and doomed deceiver As I swam between two Islands In the sea of coral jade I walked through misty highlands In the land of heat and grief A soldier without purpose Who had lost his own belief I've lived so many lifetimes As I turned most every trick I lost my chance at right times 'Cause I played the game too quick I'm buried by the burden Of my sorrow and my shame For I was once surrounded And surrendered to the game Sisters of sincerity Released me from all blame They know the fleeting nature Of this sad and fickle fame I've won some feeble fortunes That still fuel the fire and flame No matter now what happens I will find another game The words of every prophet And the hardships of the lame The lepers left untreated As their blood boils down the drain I seem to find the station But I never find the train And every destination Seems to find the pouring rain I'm walkin' through the valley Filled with sorrow and a tear I'm deep into a forest As the dark is drawing near Some soldiers at the front Some marching to the rear I'm treading holy water And I need to have you here Now listen to me sweetness It is time for me to leave My mind is moving far too fast For me to stop and grieve Remember that the Universe Is far beyond a creed And man is just a minute part Of Universal seed I know I've done my giving To my friends and kindred dear It is the part of living That can make it all so clear I'm off to find the truth Before I lose my youth And if a truth be found It's through your patience so profound And now we've said our last goodbyes Yet not a tear falls from my eyes But just before I go to sleep Will be my time to weep For love and long emotion Is the potion for devotion Look at me Pretty woman Can't you see Look at me Your magic Moved the mountain And this seeker Now is free Look at me Pretty woman Can't you see Look at me For I no longer Want to die I'm man enough To cry Look at me Pretty woman I am free


Details | Free verse | |

I Never Knew

I never knew you never knew
All the *****you put me through
I always though you knew not
So I knew for you, I'm new, your not
To the world of foolish games
You were the best, but only in name
My ways are wild, yours are lame
I never knew you to stay the same
Always wanting things to change
I wrapped you up like a picture frame

See what you want, I know you will
Not even notice my efforts still
Ill do my best for sick pleasure
To dig you up like a discarded treasure
You never knew you could be dreaming
Until it ended and left you clinging
Onto hope like oxygen
I never knew you, well
Inside your skin


Details | Free verse | |

The Dreams don't last long anymore

Here, there, everywhere
tired and dreaming of her
long before she let go,
and I was happy,
lost now I feel nothing.
The dreams don't last long anymore,
not like they used too.
I awake in the middle of the night,
to a howling wind swirling outside my window,
the dark creeps on my heart,
I try to smile,
act as if I was a blind man,
but sadly that wish never comes
and I hug my pillow,
where her sweet head lay
in the days before,
tears run down my rough cheek
and wets the dry pillow case
of my soul.

-10-28-2013-


Details | Elegy | |

Silent Prayer for her Son

Her words had meant a thousand meanings but still i felt no self healing
for i had hurt her, done her wrong, called her a slave and nothing beyond
she was african but i be white, does that make us different
to see through the eyes of life and feel the nature hell bent

So many days had i been white, to insult the african woman who worked so hard
her skin, dry from the planting seasons, her hair so ratted from the water loss outside
but that same night i had called her worthless and slave she bowed her head
and i as well for it was her last wish, and that made it sacred

"Dear Lord" she said as she began her prayer and her eyes filled with tears
her silent stature, blissed with love and pure confinement, shone though
she was african but i be white, does that make us not afraid to die
to fear the darkness of the night and worship all who makes light no questions no why

"May all who recieve thy lord's love, cry to the bloodshed moon
for if man and woman be forgotten the balance of evil and good
will perish and i have seen this for my eyes turned blind by work
but here i sit with the same girl who did so and wish her no harm"

To stand up felt wrong but as she did so i followed out into the pasture
looking about i noticed the cows this african had milked 'um so many
but she was confident and bent down to the dirt that had one blue rose
i bent also not knowing if what i did was because i felt anything that arose

"And dear lord let her memories have soem of my son's 
let the very feet he walked with be hers for i know they were strong
fast and smart he was but none know of he except me
but this girl right here will now know of his eternity"

And with that silent prayer sent to the heavens, i too began to cry
our shoulders shaked and our heads bobbed as the night engulfed us once more
she be african but i be white, does that make us sisters
yes, for we have both suffered and lost, loved and cherished, stood and cowered, worked till 
death with blisters



Details | Free verse | |

The Whores are my Women

I walk alone on freezing cold gutters,
with my jacket that has no buttons,
and shoes with the holes at the soles of my feet,
and the women look at me and gag,
they cry, they faint, they run away, they sigh,
they don't spare a passing glance,
they are the horrid creatures that have no soul.

Then there are the whores.
Yes, the whores stay with me,
they look at me and see a real man,
they see a real poet,
they see a real artist,
who really and truely starves for his art,
and they all admire me and what I stand for.

When I come around,
they tag along,
they sigh in relief when they see me
and they huddle around me
and they admire me
and I admire all of them.
They are my women
who ask nothing from me,
not one thing, yet they stay by my side.
They don't look at beauty, nor how big my bank account is,
they come as they are and look at me for what I really am.
They admire me, they love me,
they can't get enough of me,
and I can't get enough of them.
They all treat me right,
and I admire them for going out of their way for me.

Love is real, when real people appriciate real people.
Love is there when they sit there and listen to me
read my poems and they laugh and smile at me
and my creative genius.
The whores are my women,
and I love them for that, and I smile,
my heart laughs and they laugh with me,
because their my women
and I love them for that.

-10/23/2013


Details | Epic | |

Fertile Crescent, iii

Fertile Crescent
and Vestigial Conscience

The sun overshadowing my morality
my self- righteousness eclipsed

Where early mans' dawn is, 
Our sun over my left *should* threaten to tinge me if
I pontificate platitudes that fail to connect us to
full stomachs for our children, solid comfort during our elders’ aging and respite needs
 
That McChrystal was sacrificed at the altar
the way Abraham (*pause) to show faith
O yea, my ancient ancestors from Ireland
Maybe they had roots in Celtic lore
Heralding Beowulf’s heroics
And maybe they had someone in some way connected to 
 various seafaring warring factions!
 
Tyranny and takeover spark hatred
vitriolic
blinding rage, like
action- oriented swarming killer bees~
Vestigial, then, is it - our
primordial consciousness?

Weeping flows, but flash floods cannot compare, 
and the burn of fury that hot lava
NO! of liquid molten, from the deepest depths of Earth's core - 
even that cannot compare 
to the condemnation
my foe must assume.
 
With this pen I secure my conduit to the divine, 
My unpretentious foothold here from my pedestal, 
denouncing injustice! 
My spears are fueled
 
Fertile Crescent
Ghosts of pharaohs
Branded timeless in stone
Reigning order
Condemning the vilified,
as it is published by
The Royal Geographical Society:
Syria as the Gateway between East and West
Leonard Woolley
The Geographical Journal
Vol. 107, No. 5/6 (May - Jun., 1946), pp. 179-190)
And why shouldn’t this be so?
 
Beowulf, an earliest epic
Of Old English
How proud and agile to be able
To confer your legacy in written format
Onto your generations and incursions ~
 
Daughters of the American Revolution, 
weren't you early colonists settling in Maryland?
Wasn't The Crown's high noon tea wrought with hypocrisy?

I was wrong when I supposed 
McCongress ordered striking the King's son
off the Dollar Menu, To Go, 
when they showed up at the
Drive-Thru window
 
Morocco & France have tensions
today that sprouted around this very topic, you know.
Everyone has to pay attention to who the special children are, 
from the special castes - it is written and taught in
children's international fairytales 
written by nations collectively-
cultures present their insides
in their telling of morals embellished
inside gripping tales
to their children,
use of cultural symbols and
delectable terms,  the signs all 
lead directly to the diaper room. 
But for this poet, it was the Irish potato famine
forbidding entry into libertine culture.


Details | Epic | |

Felony Bigamy

Bigamy is the crime of marrying while one who has a  husband or wife who's still living
without getting a divorce. Bigamy is also illegal in not just the United States of
America, it's also illegal in other countries, including Canada. Everybody knows that it's
against the law to have been married to more than one husband or one wife. The victim (a
guy and a gal) will have found out that he and/or she is still married to his wife or she
is still married to her husband, soon. And when he and/or she does, the evil husband/wife will pay
for his or her deception. All people should also know that they can't marry somebody else
unless they had gotten a divorce or her husband or his wife passes on. It's bad enough for
the husband or the wife to have found out that he or she's marrying him or her for his or
her money and power. Those bad individuals will have fooled their relatives, that will
have included their parents, those would-be gold-diggers will have fooled their
co-workers, they will have fooled their friends, and by God, he or she will have even
fooled one another. How is it that a man or a woman wanting to get married to another
individual, knowing that he or she is already married to the other? I mean, who does that?
If he is married to more than one woman and she is married to more than one man, it's
felony bigamy, which means he or she can go to prison for it. And if these people are
thinking about marring more than one another individual, they shouldn't get married at all.


Details | Epic | |

Goodbye to home

  Sand in my lungs and in every nook and cranny possible, nothing out here not even a simple bush or tree. Everything is dead and dry as a bone. My own skin holds no life, rough and leathery like jerky. Desperate need of lotion, even more of a need for a place called home. This heavy helmet keeps the cooling breeze from touching me and this scratchy, too small for me uniform is thick and full of sweat.They never told you that you would come to a point where you wanted to die, they never said how many people you would see die, they didn’t heed you no warnings all they told you was that your army strong and a brave soul. The jeep’s engine dies and we come to a sudden halt, Sam gets out of the drivers seat and calls break. Break from what? There aint no break here, but we smile and take our helmets off and rest our stressed shoulders on the bars of the open rear vehicle. James hops out and pops open the button on his pants, struggles with the zipper and takes a piss, back to the wind but not back on us. Nick hands me his canteen and I nod with a thanks and take it quickly, my mouth is drier than a cotton field. Syrupy saliva the color of old tobacco form little bridges from the mouth of the bottle to my chapped scaly lips. What I would give for a ice cold beer, sitting on my porch with my woman by my side. I gaze out in the desert and imagine what life will be like when I get home. They will have a huge party waiting for me at the front gate and wash me with hugs and tears. Balloons tied to the fence, all blues and reds with dots of white. Food piled high on tables for hungry soldiers, smeared make up on all the womens faces. My 4 year old daughter running up to me in her favorite pink flower dress. I drop my stare from the clear sky and look at the man in front of me, his face caked with grease and dirt, his clothes dusted by sand and clay, sweat stains on the chest and even bigger ones that formed under his arms. He looks like the devil himself dragged him to hell and back, a shame to look how he looks, but we all look the same. He hunches over, helmet covering his eyes, hands together and elbows on knees, a stance for a dead man. I put my hand out to give him his water back and it takes him a moment to look up and retrieve it. He looks me in the eye for the first time, the green is brighter than any I have ever seen on a man. He gets a old beat up photo out of his chest pocket and hands it to me, a tall beautiful woman is smiling back at me with big brown eyes, almost like burned honey. Hair that falls over her shoulders like waves of oil. A small bundle in her arms, you can see the tiny hands poking out of the snow white teddy bear covered blanket. I look back up and find him staring at me with tears coming from his eyes like a busted pipe, he picks up his pistol from his inner jacket pocket, puts it to his temple and screams like a lost child and pulls the trigger. The sound of his skull shattering, if I ever dream again this is what it would be, it was a crunch like noise with a splatter to compliment it. Blood and brains paint the back of the jeep like frosting. I will never forget this man. Killing for peace is like ****ing for virginity, you can never win. I pick up his gun and look back up at the sky, I was never meant to see my family again. You can hear the bullets flying through the air from a short distance, grenades explode and bombard your ears. The enemy is running toward us, rising on top of the sand dunes with their arabian hunting knives above their heads and guns on their sides like a infant to its mother's breast, thats what they are doing they are hunting us like deer. Clutching the photo to my heart I raise the gun to my head, take one last breath and hold it, squeezed the trigger, the last death I will ever see is my own.


Details | Epic | |

Sweet Dreams part 3

It's been a long while
Since I've drempt this dream
But now I am ready
Or that's how it seems
A woman did stare at me
As I stumbled around
She pointed a finger
Down at the ground

My vision was blurry
and my voice was weak
The woman did say to me,
"Is this what you seek?"
A girl lay at my feet
Her hair red as fresh blood
I stooped down to retriever her
From the sloppy mud

Her eyes met my eyes
I felt her heart race
She hugged me strongly
And kissed my face
She spoke no language
That I heard before
I could not understand her
But I wanted to hear more

I led her safely
Down the cloud mountain path
We walked the forest quietly
As to not incur arachnid wrath
We walked along the stream
That I walked long ago
But it was not flowing
Twas covered in snow

We climbed the shear rockface
Singing songs as we went
When we reached the top
We were quite spent
A snail did approach us
Was this Mr. Chance?
I turned to speak to him
But he put me in a trance

His eyes were swirling
And his body did glow
He approached my beauty
I yelled out "Chance, no!"
I broke his spell on me
I'd make him pay
Before I could reach him
He sprouted wings and flew away

I led my beauty
To the edge of my dream
But something was wrong
Or that's how it seemed
I started to wake
And my dream faded away
Before I could grab her
I started my day

I could've gotten her out
Out of my dream
But I couldn't reach her
Or that's how it seems
I hope she's still there
When I again sleep deep
I can't live without her
I can't wait for sleep


Details | Epic | |

Sexual Identity

There's an issue with people trying to deal with their sexuality and gender. It's been
like that since the day one man had pretended to be a woman and one woman had pretended to
be a guy. It seems that he or she is either gay, straight, bisexual, or a transsexual, and
their parents are trying to help their children deal with their sexual identity and sexual
orientation. These people would've dealt with this type of identity crisis without the
help of their friends and families. It's bad enough that one man is being trapped in a
female's body and one woman is being trapped in a male's body, as well. Everybody's
talking about it, even on the news. What other people should do is to deal with the fact
that their friends are gay, bi, or transgendered. And even if these people are going
through an identity crisis day in and day out, they need help and everybody's acceptance.
And for assistance and whatnot,  he and/or she (who are gay, bisexual, and/or
transgendered) can always go to one of those LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and/or
Transgender) centers for group therapy and stuff. The ones who aren't confused about their
sexual identity should also be for gay rights. But if these people continue with trying to
deal with who they are and what their sexual orientation is, there's no telling what bad
thing might happen next.


Details | Epic | |

A Woman Scorned

There's no fury like the wrath of a woman scorn. Every woman will have known that they
will have been lied to, cheated on, and deceived by their husbands/boyfriends and will
have driven them over the edge. It seems that these men (the boyfriends/husbands) have
been taking these women (the girlfriends/wives) and what they've done for them for granted
and it's not right. It also seems that these women are not good for the guys and the women
are angry about it. Some of the guys (the husbands/boyfriends) think that other women are
way more intelligent and way more attractive than their current wives/girlfriends,
especially when these men are having multiple affairs behind the backs of their women. A
woman's scorn means that all of the ladies have had enough of being lied to, cheated on,
and being belittled by a bunch of womanizing jerks, that includes the loser boyfriends.
And for a bunch of women scorned by infidelities and lies, there's such thing as bad
karma. What these bad guys did to their women will happen to them in the near future, and
when they pass on, these womanizing fiends will meet their judgment day and God will
punish them for all of the misdeeds they've done. The men may lie to their women and they
may lie to their family members, that will have included their parents, but they can't lie
to Him. He sees everything that's going on, and the men (husbands/boyfriends) are going to
pay for what they did to their women (wives/girlfriends). And like the saying goes:
"there's no fury like the wrath of a woman scorned." These men better be really careful
around these women because if they take them for granted, there's going to be heck to pay.


Details | Ballad | |

Kathy and the Woman of Old

There was a girl, who felt as though there was no place for her in the world,
And so she worked to discover a place in her thoughts, a place of sanctuary.
And she worked and worked, but all that came was derision and abuse.
And she found God.
And worked for God with abandon, undaunted, unafraid.
And the enemy saw her light and became afraid.
And so he sent her souls to sap her confidence, and she writhed in torment.
And she cried out to God, “Woman of old, I do not know you.  But I need you.  
Save me now!”
And the woman said, “When it is time, you will change the face of a generation.  
But for now, be still and know that I am Lord.  The Lord who birthed you.  The 
Lord who watches over her creation as a mother hen, always feeding not too 
much and not too little, but just right.”
And the woman became angry and said, “Though you slay me Satan, yet will I 
vanquish your lies, and praise the Divine for ever more.”
And she decided to study. 
This woman decided to study the words of a Word everlasting.
To bring light to a generation, lost in the spoiled vanity of dissolution.
And she met a woman.
A hard woman to some, but to those who knew her, they knew of a softness sent 
down from Abraham to bring light to a people who were not her own.
And the woman said to the woman, “You must study until your mind aches with 
pain of a generation, and then study some more.  You must write, until your 
hands ache with the sorrow of the bitterness of women passed over for eons. 
AND THEN WRITE SOME MORE.  But if you hold on, you will surpass all 
expectations and you will rise to give light to the world.”
And so the woman said to the woman, “I will study and I will write.  And I will study 
and I will write.  And when I cannot go one step further. I will write some more, 
until my hands shed the blood of Gethsemane.  And from this blood, wounds of 
old between woman and man, woman and woman, man and creation shall be 
healed forever more.”
And so the woman wrote and read, she read and wrote.  And finally she began to 
shed blood and lost 2 near and dear to her.  And she cried out to the Lamb, “Son 
of my mother, what am I to do?”  And the Lamb responded, “Woman, you have 
done well.  But now just bow down and let my grace do the rest.  For my yoke is 
easy and my burden is light and my grace endures forever.”
And so the woman learned mercy.
And with mercy she shared her love with every soul she passed.  Simple words 
of light she shared.  To the fallen souls of a forlorn generation.


Details | I do not know? | |

11:45

Almost 11:45

On this cold night we’d meet in the park

A reason to make things right

Between the spaces in our hearts

Close to 11:45

I see my breath in the air

How can I go on alone in my life

Without you even there

 



My footsteps trace over and over

The night is getting colder and colder

Time passing me by

I haven’t seen goodbye

Until after 11:45

 


It’s 11:45

Expecting love soon to see

Our past come back to life

A gift from you to me

Passing 11:45

Disappointment lies inside

Lonely tears flood my eyes

Because I never saw love tonight

 

She won’t answer her calls

She won’t come to her door

I thought I gave, this woman my all

Although her love demanded more

She won’t listen to me

She won’t give me a chance

By the time I realize love didn’t show

I was replaced by another man

She won’t answer her calls

She won’t come to her door

I thought I gave, this woman my all

Although her love demanded more

She won’t listen to me

She won’t give me a chance

By the time I realize love didn’t show

I was replaced by another man


Details | Epic | |

Going for the Gold

A 60 year old woman entered a marathon, 
she wanted to set a personal goal
not to win it, but just to be in it
going for her own gold
but just after about 19 miles into the race
she tripped and fell down
she had broken her ankle bone 
and was laid out on the ground
the paramedics told her, her race was now over
but she would not hear of such
she instructed them to put away that stretcher
and give her a cane or give her a crutch
she said my race is not over,
if I can't run it,  then I will walk
her determination was her inspiration
and she was not about to balk
going for the gold was her only destination
her vision, her goal, her sole consideration

Our God is a God of faith and strength
a God of progression
not a God of failure or fear
nor a God of regression
for God will lift you up 
if you should ever fall or trip
just make sure that with Him
you have a personal relationship
for God wants to be in the picture
draw near to Him and He will reciprocate
He can strengthen and transform you
on a level that is intimate
treat Him as you would treat a lover
for He is more than just a friend
He will always be by your side
through thick and through thin
have Him in your heart too
for It's not only about intellectual perceptions
let the Holy Spirit increase your faith
be full of thanksgiving and open to God's receptions
get your mind on the right track and let God work in your life
use your past experiences to remind you of all that you have sacrificed
It's alright to look back just don't live in it and then get mad
utilize the power of memory and thank God for all that you have had

So keep on keeping on 
know that God will lighten your way
let nothing and no one paralyze nor limit you 
from obtaining your goals this day

Yet even in the midst of discouragement 
that woman proceeded to accomplish her goals
with faith in God and in herself
determined and destined to go for the gold
 


Details | Free verse | |

DEDICATION THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

****THE STORY CONTINUES******
Awaiting the day that woman of my dreams
will show up and reveal the emotions 
that I also share
I write down my feelings on paper because when 
I speak  my words I want to make it clear
that I chose the right one
to compare.
They say never judge a book by its cover 
but yet holding youi in my arms is a life
changing moment
Not wanting to let go
awaiting what my future has in sttore 
the only thing I wont take 
as an answer is no.
Reminising about all the others I encountered 
with 
but yet no other is like you 
so unique & outspoken
I wish others can realize that 
the true definition of what makes a woman a perfect 10.
You are the cure of my depression and there is no other
girl that I can officially call 
My Gift From Above
yet I question myself 
weather I am in Lust but 
a man never doubts when he is in love.
Once again invision my metaphoric 
analogy
that inspires me to compliment you 
through the power of poetry.
My illusionistic points of view  may not be clear
right away
I guess what I am trying to say today is my day
There may be moments that i will i miss 
I end my dedication by 
sealing you with the kiss.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Contributing To The Story (part 2): Enhancing God's Glory

we have a tendency to develop a foolish pride when we see our name on anything
be it an award, certificate, team jersey or a championship ring
we think we need titles to feel important in life
but none of that contributes to the story that is Jesus the Christ
your name on a jersey won't make you play better
a title after your name won't change the content of a letter
your name on a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame
doesn't guarantee you a life of happiness without some pain
so what have you contributed to God's story?
what have you done to enhance His glory?

In the Scriptures there's this woman who anointed Jesus with an expensive oil
yet only one person is referred to in the text and that's by his negative foil
he was denoted by his affliction, his disease was brought to attention
he then had the nerve to criticize that woman for her unselfish deed
until Jesus told him to "leave her alone" because for Me she fulfilled a need
that man seemed to be more worried about the oil's cost
and couldn't perceive that the life of Jesus was about to be lost
he acted like he was so concerned about the ever-present poor
but Jesus saw through the hypocracy that he tried to implore
that woman was spiritually motivated when she made that sacrifice
she contributed all she had to the story that is Jesus the Christ
God only desires that you do the best that you can
when wholly subscribing to His righteous plans

yet that woman with the alabaster jar her name is never mentioned
but her contribution to the Biblical story has gotten everlasting attention
in the scheme of life your name is not that important and a title won't make you great
as it's only what you've contributed to the story or done to enhance the faith


Details | Free verse | |

Inferior?

I better tuck in my penis
I better not stand up
I'll just get slaughtered
please, Lord, let me be marytered
she layed with me, she stayed with me
those memories are vivid like a never-ending movie
what is more vivid is how the end swiftly came
I didn't realize it all was a game
I could do nothing but lose
now, woman, you've got me in the spotlight
rape me of my will
make me swallow the pill
oh beautiful creature, you have no idea
the pain I feel deep inside
a man possesses superior strength
but a woman is superior in every other way
a woman can carry your name or bury it six feet deep
she can do anything to make a man feel inferior
she can ensue panic, she can bring a life to an end
whatever is good, whatever is bad
a woman can change it all
though I tried to stand strong
now I cower at your feet
you don't care what pain you cuase me
I'm just all alone
I'm just alienated and feeling a shade of insane
I used to cry your name
and beg you to stop
tortured and beaten
I'm just a helpless animal
lingering deep inside me
my soul is hiding
waiting for the break of day
when the warm touch of a new woman comes
maybe that touch won't fade
hopefully the beautiful creature
will hold my heart and not tear it into pieces
she's coming, this woman I seek
Lord, please don't let my eyes see in vien


Details | Free verse | |

The Woman in my Dream

i hold you fast in my dream
wishing that this dream would never come to an end
if i don't hold this dream
it will turn into a nightmare
the kind of encounter i'm not ready to face
you were so good in my dream
i guess it expressed the kind of woman i yearn for
but how do i tell u when all we do is fight
i guess i love the woman in my dream better than i love you


Details | I do not know? | |

Who Will Hear Her?

Who will hear her cries
When he dares her to cry out loud
Who will dry her eyes 
As she wanders aimlessly through the crowd

Feeling trapped 
with no where to turn
At his mercy with horrific lessons to learn

Sufferring in silence
not a whisper to be heard
Don't make him angry or you'll regret saying a word

Who will hear her
As she swallows her cries and choke on her tears
With cold packs on blackened eyes

Who will help her
Mind her business even if it is "not theirs"
Who will give her a second thought  as her body is flung down the stairs

Will Anyone? Will you? Make it STOP! Call a COP! 
or just ..., let it DROP!!!!

Not your business anyway
That a man beats a woman today
Had it coming' some will say

But- Who will say NOT or STOP or 
PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! CALL THE COPS!!!

Why bother?
When they get there.., they too are men
Unsympathetic with the pain that she's in

"If we have to come back" is usually the threat
Seems like she's not beat up enough yet
To satisfy their definition of "assault"
That's his woman and her lessons taught!

Who will hear her
Silent screams as she starts to fight back
Who will hold her 
as her fragile bones start to crack
Who will defend her 
when she finally makes a stand
That leaves the lifeless body 
of a murdered man

Who will Judge her?
Of course not a jury of her peers
Not one has felt what she's felt
as her story they hear

Who will have mercy 
for she's never found it before
When she ran seeking refuge she found closed and locked doors

In this land of the so called free
FREE WHAT???
Free to live in agony
In pursuit of life and liberty?
"NEWS FLASH"
In a male dominated society there is no female liberty
If he can freely beat me and expect me to be happy
With my scars and my blood
Leaking into my bowels 
and no one -NO ONE
can hear my pleas
or rescue me 
and then...,
They judge me for rescuing myself.


Details | Epic | |

She was His sister, She was His friend

one of my favorite scriptures by far
is the one about the woman with the alabaster jar
she took a box of expensive oils and poured it over Jesus' head
she anointed Him with this precious gift, yet the men rebuked her instead
they could not comprehend why she performed this deed
Jesus told them "leave her alone" for she understands My need
this perfume costs a good penny and could have been used for the poor
but she has prepared me for my death, as I won't be with you anymore
she possesses a spirit of discernment and spiritually understands
that I, Jesus of Nazareth am God in the flesh, The Son of Man
I Am The Messiah, I Am The Deliverer and I Am The Savior
My purpose to show mankind how to live with god-like behavior
she was His sister, she was His friend
she possessed a spirit of discernment

for one to hear the voice of God, you must learn to open your ears
don't allow the thoughts of man nor the devil to intercede nor interfere
for the devil is a liar, a rascal and a spiritual thief
he will wreck havoc in your life and won't give you any relief
he will bring down upon you demons of destruction
follow the Word of  Jesus Christ for He gives positive instruction
Jesus, a manifestation of God came to give us the breath of life
He came to show us The Way  and how to deal with struggle and strife
He came as our advocate and to help us fight the good fight
and defend ourselves from the adversary with a good right
in the house of Simon amidst a group of men
Mary, the woman with the alabaster box became to Jesus a friend

the spirit of discernment is not in the hearts of most
not everyone can detect nor sense the spirit of the Holy Ghost
we tend to be ruled by the desires of the flesh 
and can't seem to change our behavior
we have to let go of the thoughts of man 
and look to Jesus Christ the Savior
so be careful who you talk to 
and be careful of whom you ask for advice
be careful that who you listen to possesses
the spirituality of Jesus Christ
do you do deeds for earthly recognition
to receive applauds and gratitude?
or do you do deeds from the heart
just because the are the right thing to do?

Jesus found a true friend in that woman 
when she did him a good turn
and He declared as long as the Gospel is preached, 
her good deed will forever be learned
with her oils on His head, her tears on His feet
she used her hair to dry them
Mary, a woman of discernment 
she was His sister, she was His friend


Details | Free verse | |

How Is That Okay?

whenever a young woman wants to abort an unwanted pregnancy
she get a lot of grief
yet, when young men and woman are deployed to fight
on foreign land and lose their lives
how is that okay?

Is It just a coincidence that just about every time the United States
becomes embroiled in war, a Republican is in the office of president
and how Is It possible for known terrorist groups
like the Aryan Nation, Al-Queda, or the Bloods to purchase 
large quantities of guns without  the ATF being aware of It
how is that okay?

how Is It that the entire world was oblivious to the genocide
occurring in Ruwanda and Sierra Leone
yet the United Nations ran over to Hertzakovia-Slovenia
at the first sign of trouble
how is that okay?

how Is It that the United States was halfway around the world 
in Indonesia within 5 days after the tsunami 
with food, clothing and recovery
yet here on United States soil it took over 10 days to get any 
relief to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina
how is that okay?

where is the social responsibility?
where is the simple humanity?
where is the equality?
It's time for the people to take a stance today
and then maybe one day it will be okay


Details | Free verse | |

The Happy Dock

 If my lifevest were a donut that floated, I could float and eat happily for a week.

I was alone amid the choppy sea, baking under a watchful hot sun - 
Near me were scary fins; they stayed close but had not yet attempted to bother 
me.
I drifted on the tubular float, my feet barely in waves. 

I saw in the distance a floating wood dock…
Or maybe it was the smallest little island I had ever seen, only with no trees or 
shrubbery. I could not tell.

By and by I drifted closer…
And spotted a most unblemished figure standing alone with long flowing hair, 
long legs and bronzed buttocks to be sure, tanned coconuts by her feet. That 
much I discerned.

I floated and bobbed on my donut tube and hoped that I might float to her and her 
happy dock –
Two fins specifically came closer. 
Silver gray looming primeval fins slicing thru the water more pronounced and 
curious than the others, seemingly purpose-driven –

The woman with coconuts on a level dock waved to me.
She then signaled to me in warning that there were sharks in the water [as if I did 
not know]. I was only in seven feet of water - 
Red coral reefs were around me below the sharks…but it was to me perhaps the 
most beautiful inviting water in all the world.
Even with these awesome man-eaters . . . 

I was closer to the dock now. Fifty meters. I was sure of it! I wanted to rip off the 
vest and make a quick marathon swim to the girl – I did not think I could make it. 
My lips were chapped and my skin (hot from sun, wind and tropical haze) hurt 
badly and peeled, floating into the island air and into green waves. My skin.

I thought my skin was stinging, but . . .

Something pulled at my foot. Burning pain crippled me. A fluorescent jellyfish had 
stung me.
When I looked up, there was no woman on the dock. But still the goddamned 
fins -
I splashed in quick turning circles to try and find her, this woman on the dock, 
goddess, figment of my imagination…whatever.
I saw more fins, the same fins, but no girl. 
Then, lo, there was splashing. The girl was swimming to me . . .

When at last splashing ceased, and I was calm, I noted a warm easy wave come 
over me




Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

What If?

what if one man died to stop world starvation?
what if one died to end racial segregation?
what if one man died for social justification?
what if one man died so we could have eternal salvation?
what would you do? what would you say? 
would you get on your knees and for them pray?

what if one woman stood up for gender equality?
what if one woman refused to stand and give up her seat?
what if one woman served all her life trying to save lost souls?
what if one woman took a stance to help empower woman's roles?
what would you say? what would you do?
would you stand and applaud them and give them their proper due?

throughout the history of mankind 
many have stood up and many have died for a cause
men and women who were fearless in their quest
willing to died without pause
Ghandi, Dr. Martin Luther King and Medgar Evers
Rosa Parks, Susan B. and Mother Theresa
they all took a stand in this world to make a sacrifice for us
but the one who died to set our souls free was Christ Jesus