I was once a little twig with dreams of being a mighty tree
So people would come from all around just to look at me
As the years started to come and go I fell in love with the wind
I would open myself big and wide swaying to the music of my friend
My rings became many and my bark was as red as red could be
Then the day finally came I was the tallest of the tallest trees
I stood tall and I stood proud and everyone knew my name
As my rings continued recording my destiny to fame
Then the fateful day it came my friend and I had a fight
Looking back I can't recall who was wrong or right
I said, "You are but the wind something people can't even see"
" And I'm the king of them all the tallest of the tallest trees"
That night the wind started to howl she really started to blow
And I the tallest of all the trees learned we reap what we sow
My roots struggled to hold on tight but without a soul around
She who had been my dearest friend knocked me to the ground
The loggers came and cut me up then shipped me away
To my soul that truly was a sad and lonely day
Torn from all I knew and loved wishing I didn't have to feel
I was cut into boards and post down at the local mill
Now I'm back here at home just a few feet away
From where my friend the wind and I used to dance and play
I'm the deck on which you stand I lay below your feet
There is a bench made of me would you care to have a seat
Sometimes in life our roles change just take a look at me
The trick is no matter who are what you are be all you can be
See I was once a little twig who became a mighty tree
And now I'm a redwood deck as proud as proud can be
And of my friend the wind she visits me everyday
So I can thank her once again for helping me find my way
I met her in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due
There she lay sleeping in a battered rosewood bed
Heart strings breaking in a rusty sea of velvet red
So hauntingly beautiful, she took my breath away
Violin - an old reject who would change my life that day
So I bought Violin and lived out on the street
And played Rhapsody in Blue as coins fell at my feet
And soon we had a little flat high above the Bay
And every day, I got better with every note I played
Today I am a maestro playing Carnegie Hall
My name in lights blinking on a Marquee Wall
For it was I who saw myself in Violin
A tarnished soul and the beauty buried there within
Author: Elaine George
What is it to hear a poem?
I struggle to listen when such words cut open
my head and try to make a nest out of my brain.
I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR A POEM!
My body jolts under these straps of limitation,
tightened by my ability to hear.
Why must one be limited to hear a poem?
I cast out stones towards those who care to listen.
Why don’t we be the poem?
Climb inside the mouth of a poem and
understand it’s true voice.
Be the pen kicking fiercely at the paper,
leaving behind marks of genius and creativity.
Rip open the heart of a poem and suck its
Feel a poem.
Be a poem.
Live a poem.
See words rise from the paper,
as they dance between the strings
of your heart.
Grab a hand of the message and twirl
it around your mind and smother its
meaning with praise.
Curl up inside the dot of an ‘i’.
Slide across an ‘l’ and mold it into a ‘t’.
Travel across an empty plain were stubborn
Attack black and white ideas with shades
of blue and green.
Drive a sword through their hearts and leave
them dead to what is known.
Fight a poem.
Hurt a poem.
Heal a poem.
Turn the waste of sound into
vibrant waves of belief and inspiration.
Let yourself be swept away by
imagination and surrealism.
Find your soul inside of a poem and
claim it as your own.
Bring down the fortress of structure and
make its remains into martyrs of lost cause.
Open the doors of a poem and remodel
NO! I do not want to hear a poem!
It sends pain through my soul to see the
voice of a poem silenced by the ignorant
dangers of sound.
Help yourself and plug your ears.
Visualize the words through serene images of
beauty cultured by unmatchable craft.
See a poem.
Grab a poem.
Know a poem.
Be influenced by a poem.
Learn a poem and all of its meanings.
Threaten a poem.
Scare a poem.
Stab a poem.
Teach it how to live amongst a world of vultures,
hungry for mistakes and misinterpretations.
Guide a poem into a building filled
with a million little fingers.
Like a poem.
Be touched by a poem.
Love a poem.
Show the world your insides.
Show them the words to your poem.
Her pregnant brain shattered on concrete styles
I taught her how to give birth
For decades her brain had no experience
She spoke in giggles
Baby thoughts crawling away from her sheltered smiles
Voices speaking entrances and exits
Her tears were diluted with words
Coloured to give light to unborn emotions
She was too young to mother her intelligence
With stitches around the scent of her dreams
She had no clue how to give birth
Eyes were safeguarded in gloves for any greasy guidance
Sharp blades were spared for surgical opinions
She jumped into conclusions
Everyone saw what’s between her pen and paper
Her abdomen grew thorns
She lost all her baby poems for she birth only homemade babies
Her pregnancy was a secret
Now she mothers the nation
I taught her how to give birth
She speaks to them in rapid poems
She mothers the nation in pages
As I seize from greener pasture
Forgive me for taking away nature
lives have always been in vain
stopping them from breathing with pain
I toil never to hold my gun
with tears full of fun
The sleepless night became difficult
Because hunting was my cult
I regret taking away this joy of hunting
But not jolliness of killing
remembering the beautiful butterfly
and the choral singing of birds pass by
I never forget about the forest
even when I went to rest.
I lay within a drawer so long
Loneliness was my heart's song
My diamonds never saw the light of day
Since granma's death,I'd been that way
Her grandson went a'courting strong
Maybe my exile now,will not last long
He brought home his bride-to-be
Glowing with pride,for his parents ,to see
He slipped me on her left hand,
They planned a wedding,oh so grand
That special day soon came around
A gold band nearby, I suddenly found
For many years we would not part
Such friendship heals the lonely heart
A day then arrived,of which I live in dread
Returned to a drawer,by a bed.
With a kiss of deadly breath
She finally brings her down
All her flames of crimson amber
Frozen on the ground
Snow white winter
Dead at last
Stares in silence
By the beauty
In the glass
Mesmerizing flutters and flourishes
gracefully blow on the wind
drifting, creeping and crawling up and down my back door
I see you hit the pane
slide a little to the left and kiss another
slipping together as your mass melds - swaying as one
As if on dancing on ice
Together you perform
As the crowd thickens
or winds abate
Tired from your escapade together you settle
On the purest white bed
Where tomorrows warmth will warm your juices
Melting you and allowing you to slip away
almost unnoticed you make your exit
She is the talk of the town, every season that passes
You'll see her around,.... Miss Sassy Pistashe
Who flaunts her good looks, preening over the sage
When she makes her grand entrance, she’s the rage of the stage!
She peeks around summer, brilliant feathers, so brash
She is queen of the, autumn, with a flaming red sash
She’s never discreet, but is daring and chic’
She steals all the limelight, upon every hill
She upstages poor Willow, who seems rather ill
And outshines Miss Maple, …outshines Miss Ash
With colors of fire, and come hither tease
Her limbs tempt onlookers, with each crimson leaf
She dashes and flashes, and wiggles her twigs
She loves to show off, with her bright scarlet wig
Never humble, she’s bold, she puts on a show
Even Miss Sunset, has felt rather low
She has a right to be rash….Miss Sassy Pistashe’
At the first sign of chill, she will toss feathered leaves
She will even bare limbs…and dance in the breeze
Late in the season, she changes her tune
Bends all her branches, and makes valleys swoon
But she doesn't catch cold, ...she thrives by the moon
She she has thrown off her clothes, each leaf to the wind
They are gone with the wind, like other Scarlets we've known
Stealing the limelight, with no modesty,…then…
She will come back next autumn......begging attention again!!
Personifcation of Pistashe' for Skat's "Attitude" contest
She rides into town with a storm as her steed
With clicking ice spurs, and rattling reins
With somber delivery and the bleak look of gloom
Bursting with pride as an old year must end
She shoves her way into the house, out of spite
A gloomy gray cloud, who brings her own blight
Leaving a trail of mistletoe dust
Building a nest out of leftover crumbs
Flapping her wings and spinning her looms
Strutting her youth at the stroke of midnight
She stalks on wet feet, with some snow on her boots
She shouts out the news that some taxes are due
No care in the world she makes us feel blue!
Her windows are dark, and her doorway is bare
She holds a firm grip, till the end of her stay
Yet, slowly and surely, against her advice
Intrudes the domain, as she watches creeks rise
Then comes the sun, of a warm winter's day
It thaws her cold grip, with frowns of surprise
With remorse, she announces... it's time for goodbye!
I am the maestro
Of land sky and sea
Of many sounds
That I have found
Like the BOOM
Of the ocean
When I lift her up
Then throw her down
When I roll her
To crash upon the cliffs
Along the shore
Or the tinkling
Of her shattered pieces
Into the tide
As I fly - Fly - Fly -
Of a North Carolinian sky
The burning sand
As I tickle
Through the cities
And the towns
And banging doors
Before I leave
Turning every leaf
On every tree
As I fly- fly- fly-
Higher and higher
The heavy black clouds
To make them cry
They crack the sky
Bolts of lighting
Pelting drops of rain
As I fly- fly - fly -
Through the night
Into another day
The first thing that I recall knowing
As a sturdy and young olive tree
Extremely well rooted and growing
Was the sweltering sunlight on me
For two centuries I took deep root
To prepare for my ultimate fate
So when I could no longer bear fruit
There was then but a decade to wait
I was cut—left to dry for ten years
So that seasoned I’d perfectly be
For what the carpenter engineers
For admirers my beauty to see
Finally, the time came to carve me
Into the stout piece that would bear
The One who came down from His glory
I’d become a rough-hewn olive chair
Into the great city I traveled
The same city once fated for doom
Through alleys, then up a steep stairway
I was put in a small upper room
Beside the simple wooden table
I was placed in center position
Where the King who was born in a stable
Sat prepared to accomplish His mission
He prayed and broke bread with His brothers
As a symbol of what He would do
He blessed it then passed to the others
As His body; ’twas "broken for you"
Then to signify His precious blood
The red wine from the cup He did sip
So that it could cleanse as a flood
As from nail wounds it later would drip
To this day, I still can remember
How it felt when Christ Jesus did rest
I sensed that His love was so tender
Even when He was put to the test
He said, “Father, Father, forgive them”
As He faced His long prophesied death
The love for all things He had poured out
As He uttered His very last breath
Today, the risen Lord I remember
Whose story has long since been told
As I sit in the same dusty chamber
And recall that Last Supper of old
* Placed 1st in Deborah Guzzi's contest, "The Chairs Tale"
Weeping willow tell me,
Why is it that you cry?
For is it that no ears can hear,
The stories that you sigh?
Weeping willow tell me,
Why do your hang your head?
What is it that your thinking,
That makes you bow with dread?
Weeping willow tell me,
What's in store for thee?
Can you see the future?
What is it that you see?
Weeping willow tell me,
What is it that you cry?
If only I could hear you,
Please don't think I pry.
Weeping willow tell me,
What are the words you say?
I only seek the answers from beneath the branches I lay.
Have you ever seen a catterfairy?
Many found her to be quite scary,
She came out of her cocoon others said to soon
And only part of her had seemed to bloom.
Her green body dragged on the cold wet ground
Yet her face was like an angel and her wings were profound.
She had passed many animals, insects and fish
Though she was rejected by them all...she still held on to one special wish.
That someday she would gracefully fly
Far past all their critical eyes.
Show the world who she was inside
Never again feel the need to isolate and hide.
One day a mouse with two pointy green tails
Scuttled by her sobbing with a horrendous wail.
The catterfairy filled with compassion asked him what was wrong
The mouse pointed to his two tails and said “I’m not special or strong”
No one paid him any mind too
For his difference made others constantly ridicule.
The catterfairy said, "My dream is to fly"
"I am different too and can’t understand why"
At that moment they became the best of friends,
Their uniqueness became a treasure that helped them make amends
With whom they really were
Instantly feelings of loneliness became a blur.
The mouse one day had a marvelous idea
It would help his dear friend overcome a deep fear.
If he held up the catterfairys body while she attempted to fly
It would make her light enough so she could soar through the sky
Then, they both would graciously shine
Linked together till the end of time.
At once the mouse lifted the beautiful catterfairy's body high,
Holding on intensely, she got her wish and they both kissed the cold ground goodbye.
The catterfairy has human emotions and shows us how hard it can be when your different in our society. people judge others so often by how they look or if they have a disability. we all need love and friends and we have too look deeper than the outside. Someone will always come and lift that person up who feels rejected or different. Thank God we are all different. how boring this earth would be if we were all the same. Never try to be like anyone else for there is only one YOU and you are needed.
By: Sabina Nicole
Running your fingers
over my delicately tuned form.
Blind. - You know which keys to press.
To enhance sweet music from me.
Happily and playfully,
my white notes singing love.
The darker side brings juxtaposed
moods and sadness,
pedalling drama and bitterness.
You know just how to play me.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's eye is when he looks up he does
not merely see the sky.
He sees the family of birds singing in the tree and the clouds so white against
the sky as the sun smiles upon his face to make the world feel free.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's heart is when it comes to it's
emotions there's no limit, no ending, no start.
He feels things with courage and bravery, not letting it be shaped into the usual
mold and trapped into slavery.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's mind is that, like every other poet,
it's one of a kind.
It wonders around and has to look behind every corner and under every object to
see what it might find.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's fingers that hold the pen is that his
eyes, heart, and mind are in another land when his fingers are writing in the den.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet is well, that he's a poet.
Just outside the window
a row of coned shaped trees bend their foolish heads
for her attention
She can have her way with them....
yet, with such a wily nature, she passes over them,
and softly treads a path through the garden gate
Her steps are light as dew, as she hesitates to wake a slumbering rose
and timidly brushes past a trellis of sleeping morning glories..
Instead, she slowly slithers through his open window while he sleeps
the angle of her glance makes his closed eyes flutter...
and he smiles....
Her appearance casts shadows on the wall, as she stares across the room at him
She tarries for a moment,
A reflected image on the mirror spreads her silken white cloth...
He feels her move over him
He is kissed by this welcome intruder, hypnotized by her charm, her cool breath
Dazzled by this embrace, he tosses the quilt, in restless dream..
She caresses so softly, filling his heart, and making him sigh...
with her gentle touch upon his face
He basks in her love, and lies in sweet gratitude in his sleepy state
enraptured with sweet contentment
Soaking up and drunk with the radiance of her shine
Outside, eucalyptus branches are jealous
Impatient and longing to feel such affection...
Their branches clammor on the glass, hoping to break her spell...
angry clouds intrude to steal away the moment...
She runs and hides!
No longer does he feel the kiss, the sweet lunar touch, her seductive breath...
Coolness, and disappointment envelopes him as darkness returns again...
Her golden touch is gone, and he is once again alone in the shadow of the dark
He must pull his blanket up, and dream of other lovers....
Darkness lays awake,
waiting upon her breaker.
The one that lies upon her and whispers to go,
leave behind nothing that you covered with your soul...
Yet she knows she does not need to hear these words
to initiate her departures; she could velvet herself
and ghost over the world so simply.
like a cloth dip in red wine; enveloping the color,
but not savoring the need of intoxication.
wanting to feel his warmth,
wanting to feel his glow over her body,
that truly in a way, makes her disappear,
for the world forgets her till she comes again.
torturing herself, for every ray of light cuts her skin,
but she is not masochistic.
Why does she stay?
Why does she endure?
He's coming, slowly over her...
Rises in such an ill manner, That you would think
he would give up an descend once more.
once more so he could ponder and wish;
all more to the dreamer that stays asleep in his wake.
How he wants to be one of these creatures that get to roam
inside her skirt, laugh between her legs, and rest upon her bosom.
so much of it heat rises, why he still feels the need to cry...
He feels her fleeting,
never ever seeing her, her known only by his touch.
His eyes stay close needing, pleading, seething,
just to see
just to see her
He stands fully now and the world is smiling,
but he is not.
We touched for a moment
From across the room
As only eyes allow
Standing in yen
And somehow fearful
I turn away
If I held valiance
Crass and fiery
I would dare to you
Though not today
I am of frailty’s ire
Flames of forbidden desire
That is you
A rare beauty of youth
I am lost and aged tonight
Afraid to look in your eyes
Fearing the burn
Of desire fulfilled
Heavy heaves in my chest
In a sigh of defeat
Up the empty pathway
I move on
As I sit in my window sill.
Relaxed no thrill.
Time goes by, but it seems the world stands still.
I sit and gaze .
By the beauty that sits in front of me.
The stars winks at me, twinkles and dance.
So magnificant I saw in watch in a trance.
The love I felt between us must be true romance.
But suddenly it fades.
It fades so quickly and with little warning.
Because within a few moments it will soon be morning.
So sadly it leaves, but leaves with a kiss of delight.
The wind whispers its goodbyes and promise to return tomorrow night.
Hip-Hop is dead
I can’t feel the throb, the devotion, the dedication
I wear all black
Black stilettos, black cut dress, aimed real low
Seductive but simple, I know my place
Beside the King, my sweet deceased Revolutionist
Rap’s number one supporter, holding the casket with a broken
S I G H
Someone plays, a radio, across the way
Slick beats drip past the ears to slime the brain
Wet and easy manipulated clay
Media displays wealth and misogyny
50 million dollar chains
Females addicted to being slapped around
Like China Dolls in half-made Cl o thes
Pose, Shawty and let this crunk beat fill your hips
Purse your lips, Mami, and I’ll let you
Be my accessory
Remember when the revolution was a evolution of the mind
Freestyles match drums in intensity
When freestyles were uncontrolled like the wild brown skin he was in
I felt, loved, Hip-hop in my veins
Let him be the catalyst for the beating of my heart
I was so in love with his swagger, his love of himself and his people
Hat tipped real low to hide the pain
Beat real tight to stop the taint
Of failure and to rise like the dust after a stampede
I’d take Hip-Hop to bed every night
Let him rise and fall like the heaving of my chest
It was so hot I could barely breathe for the intensity overcoming me
The pounding of intellect in my throat
Stroked me from head to toe
And Rocked my ghetto loving soul
And he said things I’ve waited my whole life to hear
play sweetly in my ear
Dreaming of dreams too big
To let fade away
He grew shallow, loving women with hollow heads and thick thighs
Low rides and forgetting what he left at home
Long nights and overtime left me alone
Released hundreds of artists
Torn between money and the spoken word
His best friends tried to revive what was inside, too late the damage took over
50 Cent arrived with Lil’s, and Young’s and a mess of southern heat
I was there when the light left his eyes
After Dr.Dre’s Chronic
Hip-Hop was Dead
The swan in the cemetery looked so out of place
in such a depressing location to see such a symbol of grace
a mystical message engraved on a level of hidden depth
a breath of fresh life, hidden amongst the death.
as i watched the swan pace between the gravestones with all the confusion it
in a place of such solitude, i chuckle at the irony the swan represents
but all of a sudden the swan stops in its tracks.
looks up at the sky down at the ground and then over its shoulder as to look over
with an insinuation in its actions that portrays an essence of surprise
as it stops looking around and focuses on my eyes
which some how against my will has me rested on my knees
as the swan opens its beak but instead of a sqwauk a human voice pleas
a plea of forgiveness for all that its done
a plea to say goodbye to his wife and his son
but then the swan descends into the ground through a grave with not as much as
as i read the inscription on the stone i cry as i find it reads here lies hope
And the trees
laiden down their dappled hands
or bows of earth bound angelic foundries
where leaves in all their spaning handliness
cast their stained glass impressions of their souls
and dance on through the arms of fairies
their petalled gowns thrown high
will show their faces onto the heavens
to hail the kings that poise,
away above the flowered dances
another world unknown
There, .......in the meadow......
trembles my heart....
wide-open for all the
hunters of love to
....frozen, in place....
trying to avoid the self-
perceived dangers even
a slight flinch
This place was once
a garden of rejuvination
and needed space ....
that healed all wounds,
now......an unsureness fills
the misty air, revealing
scattered pieces of what it
is this heart has been
words, like bullets, shot
forth from the trusted
emotion, called love.....
piercing, burning, betraying
my heart of the comfort
that lured me once before
to this meadow ......
A trophy, for an insecure
hunter with no passion of
his hunt?...not .this heart , it shall
return when the timing
feels right...and the clover
does not taste
The eyes of the old house
watch me as i pass by
my steps quicken as i make haste
past the wrinkled pallid face
during the day i walk slowly
for it is then that he is sleeping...
Were I a sailboat traveling at sea
All alone with no one but me
My masts would creak , the decks rock gently beneath my feet
The hiss of my bow slice thru the waves ,
the tang of the ocean spray as I watch the wake paving the way
Billowing white sails puffed out in the summer breeze
And onward I would go merrily out to sea
No use for the land , just wild and free
The dolphins would come and play
The seaweed hang out all day
Overhead the sky prefers blue , but sometimes grey
nothing but me , the sun and the summer rain
The reflections play across the water
The waves lap gently on my bow
No use for the land , just me here and now
With complete confidence, I the writer, knowing my wit and charm had always gotten me what I wanted in the past, entered the room.
There she sat - on the top of my desk - this cool black beauty, ignoring me completely.
My mission - to get the scoop.
They called her, ‘The Iron lady’; not my type, but that didn’t scare me in the least.
The easy touch. Yes! It always worked. All I needed was a few nights alone with her.
The first night, I began by gently pushing her buttons, over and over again, caressing every part of her from A to Z, bringing her to the edge and back again.
In the morning, completely spent, having learned very little about her, I kicked the crumpled sheets lying on the floor, aside, and left the room vowing never to return.
The next night, I discovered she liked a firm touch. After that, there was no stopping us. She kept me up night after night - into the wee small hours.
How many sleepless nights can a guy endure? Well! Patience is a virtue.
I returned to the Iron Lady night after night, after night, until the truth was told.
In the end....the story she spilled for me, became a National best seller.
She was my type after all.
My love is like an Owl
Knowledgeable and deep and wise
My love is like the Raven
With magic behind its eyes
My love is like an Eagle
Its lineage crowned most high
My love is like a Lark
So swift and scarce and shy
My love is like the Peregrine
Soaring silent above the hill
My love is like the Dove
Spreading peace and good will
My love is like the Stork
Bringing life so fair and bright
My love is like the Sparrow
It’s intuition for life’s fading light
My love is like the Albatross
Floating high on fair winds
My love is like the Crow
The darkened portent that it sends
My love is like the fabled Tern
Crossing continents the status quo
My love is like the Penguin
With its tuxedo in the snow
My love is like the Mynah
Able to sing any song or say
My love is like the Rooster
Heralding each brand new day
But most of all my love is like the Lovebird
Her loving song oft heard
That perfect pair to my person
And the inspiration for these words
I sat on the toy store shelf, feeling all bottled-up and unwanted.
The kids prefer to play with video games, these days,
rather than being outdoors with me.
Then one day, this little girl grabbed me down from the shelf
and begged her Mommy to buy me.
She took me out to play as soon as we got home.
The spring day was so bright as I met the sun for the first time.
I could not contain the joy that I felt
as she unscrewed the lid and dipped the plastic wand
into the soapy liquid. She brought the wand to her lips
and gently blew out a line of iridescent bubbles.
I felt so free, floating through the air with my new friends.
Her giggles of delight were the sweetest sound.
She dances as we swirl around her. Pure imagination takes over
as she pretends to be a fish in a bubbly underwater world.
I will never forget the wonder that was in her eyes.
The wind caught each one of us, taking us on a new adventure.
She runs to try and catch me as I drift up and away from her.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
May 20th, 2014
Grow trees in my hands/
Hide your kids under my armpits/
Make me cry and you shall drink my tears/
My tummy the bridge to intensity/
I am your world/
My words are seas that carry my liquid tongue/
Flowing rivers of rhymes/
Eating flowers building houses on cloudy smiles/
My son shines brighter than your sun/
I am your world/
My legs your way to heaven or hell/
Left alone or right through your heart/
With love i fly my thoughts to mimic other worlds/
I am your world/
Nothing can substitute death
for it is the final destination
and ere you last breath
crystal clear all your abberation.
Rest forever or birth to numb dizziness
as you part, you leave all harms and assaults
people most unatheist, called quick as bless
is perfused, to save him from life's thunderbolts
Long life of people swing as tombs
where none pay heed to temple and churches
who will pay heed to these scarce living glooms
amidst clowns in whose core only money perches.
The flirt and dirt only thing hatching in heart
and society dwindle with values and morals
each thing lost and perfect human you never wert
lacking natural mankind but adorned with quarrels.
squeeze in here baby girl
I’ll mold that tummy fat
[I’m a churning urn] I'll grab that behind, hold it tight
sculpt those stretch marks, just right
come here lad, I'll turn those marbles blue
turn those knuckles white [no that’s not a rocket]
they'll chew a strategic hole
through that shredded cotton cord
bend over, your fertile galley
and climb on board
yeah, I'll show off your rear entry
let them see [the crack of dawn]
what we can see unseemly, yet
even the poor are marked by my geas
let me squeeze you lads and ladies
naw, it's not disgusting
* jeans which are too tight are annoying ;)
to those in them and those looking at them!
Sleeping dragon through the Dark Ages,
Coldblooded and unfeeling wraith,
It awoke and consumed the human race,
Entering every aspect of their lives.
Nothing can destroy this beast of knowledge
Except an Apocalypse.
Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon, with your silver hair
That flows for eternity as on your beautiful silver steed speed
Across the huge sky; you use your beauty__ men to snare
How you've lured men for centures and their minds ensnare
Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon with flowing silver hair
Without a care on your beautiful silver steed ride on into eternity
Drawing all men, trap__luring to come and gaze with ease
Looking into the night sky they see your beauty as you ride by
Seemingly on your silver steed you rear up and stars
Flow into your trance and around your body they follow
Captivited by your beauty and magical pull into moon glow
How you have lured men for centures and them ensnared
Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon, with your silver hair
That flows for eternity as on your beautiful silver steed speed
If these walls could talk,
they would have been willing to mock,
many masquerading pious liars,
who put a mask on their true desires.
If these walls could talk,
they would have given the world a shock,
by recounting many unimaginable tales,
that could make some go off the rails.
If these walls could talk,
they would have been willing to balk,
at using their delicate eyes,
to witness another lives of lies.
If These Walls Could Talk
If these walls could talk, how dare you ask such a thing?
What do you think we do, and remember we see everything?
You come in here and bang the door the plaster looses its hold
Never think of what you’ve done, your actions loud and bold
I could tell your mum some tales, the boys you bring in here
And you never know I might- I even know about the beer…
Your thoughtless ways, you draw on me, and dig holes with a pen
Then you scream it’s your bedroom, and slam the door again
You want to be careful girl just because you abuse me and you kick
I may have stood for 8o years but you really make me sick
I was once proud and smooth and you have knocked great chunks out of me
But I will get my own back, just you wait and see
The next time you bring him in here and think that no one knows
I will show them what you are, all your sins I’ll put on show
One more bang will be your last that much I promise you
For when you bang the door and him, I am gonna drop down on you two.
My hummingbird found me
A cactus i used to be
Instead she wrapped around me
she kissed my deep buried heart
Rose petals surround me
All around me
All around me
I am a dancing flower now
Dancing On the beats
Of her cute fluttering sound...
white on blue
tears wave to
pain on cue"
~JSLambert © 2012 Poet TreeZ Publishing
Secrets are not told and kept intact
Because we are not sure how others will react.
Secrets are meant to be unknown
Shackled,chained and all alone.
Pulled away from everyone's sight,
Into the chamber of darkness where there is no light.
They wait for days,weeks or maybe years,
To escape and put an end to their tears
And when that happens they throw up the veil,
The things which were once hidden are spread in the air.
They unfold for good or otherwise worse
Without caring whether the consequences turn out to be a blessing or a curse.
Then they happily go away,
Out in the sunlight,into the day.
However back in the chamber many of them are dead and even more still in captivity
But watch out as they do never give up their desire to be free.
You might look at me
with your blushed pink face
Your hard pimpled complexion
But above it all I know
that your sharp edged
square attitude is all a bluff
we can all see that you really are
two faced so double the math still
just a slab
standing the test of time
waiting to be cracked through age
when your crevices may be filled
to tidy your appearance
and make seem renewed
a little younger cosmetically
by the touch of skilled hands
steady in their chosen profession
Yet at the end of the day
you are just going to get walked over
Trying to come down a mountain you've already conquered is the true test, and it's a hard one.
Like pouring cheap sanitizer
over your bloody hands.
The 99.99 that it may kill will not eliminate the painful little hundreth percent of pain that still stands.
But it is necessary.
I can see parts of my past like jagged rocks I've already placed my feet upon once. They remind me of all the times I slipped up cut myself with such failure I never thought I'd move on from. I slide down the mountain's side, hoping that if I fall forward I will be caught by a cloud filled with the heaviness of my old pride. Reminiscing on a cumulus crime trying to piece together where I made the mistake in believing being selfish would ever put me on cloud nine.
It can no longer hold me
like flimsy caution tape failing to hold an overwhelming riot at bay
and down I go with the rain precipitating all my pain away.
At 6'4, my height is pretty easy to see
my mind is pretty difficult to read
And my beliefs are even harder to understand.
At times I feel having the word 'susceptible' tattooed across my chest would be fitting for me
just so I could be understood by my fellow man.
I heard that 90% of human interaction is nonverbal so
if I could, without a word I would speak volumes upon volumes of my autobiography and just live the rest of my life shirtless
So that even to the passing stranger, my life story they could comprehend.
Vulnerability at it's finest.
I learn from experience.
After a long fall, I land close to rock bottom.
The temptation to give up always seems to make camp in front of the exit of freedom.
I can see two male rams clashing their brains together while making a thunderous noise; the most accurate depiction of brainstorming I've ever witnessed, and an easy way to see that staying stuck at the bottom is a choice.
There is always something new to learn.
Something to struggle with up and down the mountain.
What we must learn is to not be ashamed of our struggles, and to instead show how we are victorious through the renewed life we live.
Was it enough or was it too much?
Sometimes too fast but always too slow!
God knows that I come with these seeds that grow.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that knows?
Stepping through time and sliding back so smooth so I go!
I say I can qualify!
Where was I and why was I there?
Sometimes too obvious but always with doubt!
God knows that I come riding in on a prayer.
I absorb every single touch inside and out,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that cares?
Climbing the highest mountains and sliding down so steep but on a dare!
I say I can magnify!
What did I say and what did I do?
Sometimes too quite but always too loud!
God knows that I come with a gleam that shines so proud.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch by you.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one in the crowd?
Walking on water and walking backwards but at least I know how.
I say I can intensify!
Do I want to or do you need me to?
Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I simply don’t care.
God knows that I come standing on a higher sky of blue.
I absorb every single touch by you inside and out with this glare.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one with this view?
Up in the clouds and aimless but always led by you!
I say, “I SANCTIFY”!
®Registered: 1997 Ann Rich
Dear Luna, where have you been?
I dreamed a thousand times of your pale beauty.
Now, you return with stars upon your cape,
Flaunting your mysterious ways before me.
I'm mad in love with you, dear Luna,
The most beautiful of all the evening ladies,
That entices broken souls such as I.
Take my hand to walk with me through life.
No? So, I hear you say as you withdraw,
Pulling clouds about you to hide your face.
My path the darker now without your love,
There's no solace for me at your rebuff.
A whisper plays softly across a gentle breeze,
“I will not change my ways, though I favor you the most,
I am a wanton lady on my trek, following the sky.”
Then, she glanced my way again, and winked into the night.
I know you hate having me around
I feel your fear, the angst, ‘cause
I am a sign of weakness
even though I bring hope at times,
other times a brighter day
a new perspective on a foggy splay…
Let me help you get past the hurt,
Let me help you deal with the loneliness
Take me with you on this journey,
Turn your frown into a smile
As I trickle down your beautiful face
Let me cleanse you and take the pain away…
Inspired by the contest “Personify A Tear”
by Wilma N. Neels
Laundry's a tedious task
that is just what I think
Curious, and I must ask 'cause this has me on the brink
Why is one sock always stubborn?
Why does it leave it's partner behind?
When matching 'em up I am so forlorn
are they just trying to be unkind?
Maybe they think it is hilarious
to play this prank on me
I do not think it is funny
Together these socks must be!!
Eventually they all get together
Maybe they party when I'm not home
Do they plan which sock will sneak away next?
Do they have a plan where it will roam?
It sure makes laundry exciting as I play this guessing game
Maybe these woolen beauties
don't want my interest in laundry to wane.
bared pink shoulders,
with come-hither snare,
touches the foolish Sun
with a spectrum of red lips…
Up so many stairs they will trod,
shutting the world alone in the dark..
New lovers who stroll through gardens of night
And as nightingale and the crickets cry
Spurned world sets her brain adrift to weep
putting out the lights of her eyes
shuttered in forsaken bed …
Crescent moon stands vigil
Sun, with fickled
For Nette's "Touch Me" contest (Dusk) by Carrie Richards
The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified.
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines.
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm.
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore.
At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man,
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going.
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures,
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air.
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned?
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.
this poem is dedicated to Elvina Kuchukova
thy power over wood and water
lead me to springs untainted
thy music is a bath for the mind
thy art is a balm for the eyes
oh Elvina you elusive slyph,
where shall we meet next?
Elvina i long to see your face again
with thy hair black as midnight flowing like a river
thy face angles like an elf
with patience to match
thy gentel words show thou troubles
and scars yet to my eyes
they beauty is everlasting
Elvina i thank you
thy skin is scarred with lines of flame
the burning knife that scarred your skin
is no deterent to me for i know
the troubles other cause
you strength has saved
me from the burning knife
Elvina i thank you
you have saved me
Elvina i thank you
may we meet again
If these walls could talk
They would have narrated my story
How without you, I live in a constant shock
How I have lost all my past glory
Witness to my everlasting misery
My walls would have wailed for me
At least ,they would have made a query
whenever I am lost somewhere in me
Sharing my lonely nights
Seeing me crawl into that cold bed
Knowing all my shivering frights
Crying for me ,as if I am dead
I would have talked to them about you
About the love we shared
All that ,that happened between me and you
About the life, when we were paired
Living with this eerie loneliness
The only noise ,is of a clock
With your hatred creeping into me ,as illness
I wish these walls could talk…..
So, sorry for you claiming this sad, sad world;
In your desperate means to cling to a disintegrating dream of mankind;
Your rose colored goggles fogging with deception and hate;
I apologize to every spirit and soul caught in the murky web of lies,
This spinning ball of corrupted good intentions gone bad,
Yes, our earth, our home and gift,
This dreaded habitat of tainted visions for peace or for incitement of war.
I cry for you, my tears are overwhelming.
My heavy coat of gloom is so heavy and thick.
Slowly I feel my mind go as the thick and over whelming desperation weighs on my collapsing soul;
Crushing Pandora’s hope, snuffing out a light once bright, fired heart’s will.
Will of wonder, want, need, desolate attempts of which to take away the ragged and rusty nails that pierced the shells of constitutions and democracy.
Calloused feet and wounded beliefs.
Yes, I cry for you.
It’s hard to not wear the guilt for you all,
To feel the pain endured
To observe the murders, rapists, and such.
Forgive me for being so weak.
Eyes wide shut,
Unable to cast a glance away.
Forced to see all tiresome and dreary people end each others existence based merely on that of seconds lasted animosity, feelings, emotions.
Minutes after the haughty sauce of misconceptions,
has boiled countries alive; one foul mouth, one wrong step, one deranged political suggestion that leaves third world countries ready to devour each other.
Wishes, dreams, hopes of hopeless attempts,
Harbored by an ant compared to the greater of all,
With desires to end it all.
Where is Zeus?
Or, is it our divine and sole God and Son?
Where are the superior species with promise to return with the antidote to our chaos and suicidal destructive ways?
Where is our Superman?
No pure hearted man will step up and solve it all.
No more tears today, the well of sorrow has dried.
The will to go on in the watch of all the death when there are so many ways to resurrect in watch of illness and disease when the man with the badge holds so many cures.
Yes, Pandora was opened and Hope has watched and Hope has stayed a distance.
Hope has tried to hope, yet, in vain.
Hope has run out of determination;
Given up on all things.
No more audience for you on earth.
Now we fall to stone,
With good will and hope clenched in cold hands.
We all fall down; crumble to pieces.
My mind is dead, the soul has ceased to exist.
My eyes are closed.
I see no more.
My tongue dried to clay crumbles.
I speak no more.
So sorry I am for you all claiming this sad, sad, world.
For all those suffering,
We once fried rivers of empathy;
Screamed in anguish for sicknesses stiffened fingers grasping for a cure.
Death means to collapse the rock upon which you all dwell.
Writhed and rathed in turmoil we did.
Taking mankind’s pain, sickness, and death to our hearts.
In the end we stay.
Hope ends, as the earth crumbles the motherly need to comfort even as humanities end lays hope to rest. Like the light of a dwarf star slowly snuffed out over millennia’s end.
So, so sorry for you claiming this sad, sad world in your desperate means to cling to a disintegrating dream of a utopian mankind.
Most days I’m basking in sweet Yellow’s hue.
Despite some woes, I often do okay.
Perhaps I’ll fret or feel a little Blue.
But even then, I search for just one ray
of sunshine! Other colors visit me.
From time to time, I feel Red’s passion stir
inside me, but (and very thankfully)
I’m not a friend of Black, the torturer,
although I’ve spied his shadow at my door.
The Green-eyed monster seldom do I see,
but Green and Blue of nature I adore!
And when I surge with creativity -
approaching Lavender - I feel I’m whole,
for then. . . . imagination takes my soul.
Gordon Lightfoot song title used:
I am way up,
I am way down,
I am all of the way around.
I am your Lady Luck!
I am right here,
I am right there,
I completely care,
I hold zero fear.
I am always in,
I am always out,
I am here again,
I am Heaven’s great big shout.
I am mother struck,
With Lady Luck!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
Iam crying for freedom; Yes, freedom, I am losing my value.
I was used as trade by barter and I lost my values,
you forced me into paper, my value depreciated.
For you to carry me about; you forced me into plastic- credit cards
What have I done to you?
I promised myself never to come back in the next world.
Crimes I committed not; I settled. When will you pay for your own crimes without dragging me to pay?
I became significant in the world of bribery and corruptions;
what have I done to deserve the cry in my heart?
Stay away from me; you that love me.
If I fly away; the voice of the poor saying into my ear: there's no money –“economic meltdown”.
Tell the rich to grant me freedom from wherever I am kept.
Yes Freedom! I paid for everyone’s freedom but nobody think of mine.
Until the poor start to fight for my freedom;
Their pocket will remain dried while the rich get richers.
War against the rich, and get me freedom once and praise me in your homes.
where are you money?
The poor cried. In the pocket and private banks, and savings in their homes; there I will be find.
The rich are the cause of my scarcity; Iam lonely in their private bank accounts , separated from the joy the poor.
Spill their blood and you will find me available again.
The rich are the root cause of all evil and not me –money.
Pastor Emmanuel Brown.
Do you find your-self?
With-OUT a Ladder
And just don't know
What to do
Try the Law
Fore only good things'
Will come back to you
Plant yourself a Seed
And then you shall have
Just give it a little time
Soon you will be able
For the very first time...
I was walking by the loud green bushes
Their rough knees covered with the ash of webs
The whisper through angry short snip-its
As the outer edges of my skin brush past
I can hear them say
She must talk to the dead trees!
She must and she will
Their bustle gets louder in my head
Now I am dizzy stepping on the rude rocks
They are harsh and stubborn
Blocking my path forward
Keep her from the dead trees!
No! let her go she's no good
Not here she must cross
Cross the land of living through
Right on through Dead
Your nothing but stone
Enough stone can stump your growth
Here is Anastacia
In between the argument of the Garden Maze
The Pebbles that skipped on song
Draws near to Anastacia
They all pile up on one another
To take her hand
While the rest of the Garden
Stood in a disarray
Anastacia couldn't believe
How fast Pebbles was carrying her
The Maze is now a lonely blur
So is the raucous of the chatter
So far gone, But where to
Is this the way to the Dead Trees
Yes! Pebbles replied gleefully
How could they have known
What her thoughts said
Magical they stood
Trillions of diamonds
All clumped heavily together
So much it was dangerous
Of what rarity and precious
The black blue swirl grew
The sounds changed
The sound of the swirl was silenced
Closer to the Dead......
He brushed against her red hair
Then moved on from there
To the girl with the golden curls
While tears flowed upon the ground
Red hair laced between the tears
Soon he tired of the gold
And sought out brown
What a lovely crown
Then boisterously he blew on threw
Now none wears a crown
He is left with nothing to entertain
Only snow and ice remain
Your lily white skin belies
the cracked visage required for your attainment.
You spread, all to willingly, upon my black heat.
The edges of you curling with unseemly delight.
And while my iron heart holds many things above you,
only you arrive unfertilized, virginal to my frame.
The core of you quivering, liquid, wet, responsive to my firmness.
Just a cook's tool, am I, but I too have needs.
And once your fragile, white has crisped to brown
and you have flipped for some one else,
do me a favor, take your sunny-side up self and leave,
cast off from my caste iron self.
They visit me here though they think me dead
They all think me a long time gone
The mausoleum is quiet, with only a dark shadow
Creeping upon its ancient walls, and thats of my own
The heavy door seems to creek all of sudden I think
Outside I hear the sounds of what seems like footsteps
I open that very old secret door which leads to my rest
And with a heavy heart consumed by this fire, I prepare for the kill
But then, outside, there is no one, no one is there
No one out there now to steal from me this time in here
Outside now I catch only the furtive and dark shadows
As I hear the lonesome cry of a howling wolf or hurting bird
I dart quickly another look again to my ancestral and cold coffin
My fateful resting place is one more time again safe
No friend nor foe to release me to free me tonight from my woes
And from all of my black and torturous betraying thoughts
I, Barnabas Collins, I stand here in all this darkness alone
As I close my weary eyes for another moment and rolling time
Then again I hear the wind moaning and hear the wind weeping
The dogs are howling and my wounded heart abates in the wind
They're my only companions in my endless and perpectual sorrow.
Dorian Petersen Potter
July 22, 2010
There grew in a garden,
White flowers pale as death,
That grew in rows like tombstones,
Their odor; foul like dragons breath.
Flowers bent and brittle,
Stems with many a thorn,
No sweet fragrance, just a stench,
Their existence was one to mourn.
These deadly flowers spread,
The world was its domain,
Its roots had leeched all over,
And no other life could remain.
Only these flowers grew,
The earth’s soil was rotten,
This decay consumed all life.
Its plague could not be forgotten.
When it spread its poison,
Life on earth was finished,
All life had become extinct,
The whole world had been diminished.
Even though its fiction,
All this could become true,
These flowers merely symbols,
Of hate that could live within you.
Evil spreads so quickly,
To hearts that are hollow,
People want the easy life,
A route that’s easy to follow.
Evil tries to tempt you,
Disguised as a flower,
Don’t be tricked by its beauty,
Or you’ll fall under its power.
Take control of your life,
Don’t let your heart harden,
Or you’ll become this flower,
A spawn of this deadly garden.
Yiddy awdy those ticks are here to stay.
Here and there but everywhere astray.
Tick tack I am going to laugh at that.
On the Moon or on the Sun I have sat.
Jump started or kick started my day has begun.
I’m holding a life of lifetimes on the go or run.
Yicky yacky just what is it that I am to do?
Run all over the galaxies in search of you?
Shucks you mucks, I’d do it all over again.
But from time to time you stop when I begin.
It’s a life of life’s bundling into one row.
Yet it is step by step in which it can grow.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
Liberated with enchanting divinity,
Protected by shining light,
Nourished with healthy frequency,
The Garden of love I am
Where rich relationships ripe in plenty.
Gifted with the Stream of Purity I am,
Which murmurs sweet sounds of love
And lets holy souls drink of pure essence.
Colours of sincerity fly in my presence,
Displaying harmonious synchrony.
Sad souls do wander about,
Seeing my gracious presence they get attracted to me.
Healing them with God's grace,
I absorb their saddened weakness
And paint their souls with rejuvenation.
Destiny transports content souls to me,
Who are welcomed with kindness.
I pour warmhearted devotion upon them
Which they embrace with profound courage.
The smell of innocent charm sweeps across me.
Woven with the care of enchanting souls,
I carry out my responsibility diligently.
Many a time two souls have merged into one,
Giving birth to a celebration where the tune of oneness is heard till eternity,
Which makes my senses smile with dazzling beauty.
Silence falls in noise
movement slows down as creatures wait for her arrival
the ones that follow her soft waves of glow
like kisses that feather wet lips that still have not been quenched
urging for an open mouth that would release a moist tongue
Her breath showers like mist
pleasantly eerie; a snake wrapping around your chest
but calming you with his heartbeat conjoined to yours
She does not speak, but her eyes glare;
not wicked or demanding, but guiding and observing
they speak for her:
Need my smile upon your back upon this gloomy lair
and let my skin glow around you within this night of dare
let my thoughts become you and ease of things that scare
for I am the sister of your mother, and I am here to care.
She doesn't utter such words, but her rhythm is already known
Her eyes stay watching as her past twinkles around her
Her smile a memory stuck on her face
For all she want is for him to join her again
but those moments are so rare
only when they dance to eclipse
that their heart will not be teared
she is the queen of this night sky kingdom
and her worshipers have given her crown
but she longs for her king, next to her empty throne...
It’s a great day,
When I can say,
I am the best me,
And you will see.
I will come to you in a dream,
I will be a shout with a scream.
I will be an unmistaken seed.
Balancing every want or need!
I am on a mission you see,
To be the very best of me,
There will be nothing to say.
The Moon will set my day.
I am the need,
The deep seed,
You will hear my scream,
Planting myself in a dream!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
The Chesire Felidae smiles down at me,
as I patrol all night on achy feet.
There is no need for artificial light,
for the Chesire Felidae smiles so bright.
Sometimes in the deep, dark, cold night,
the Chesire Felidae's elliptical smile is the only thing in sight.
When dawn approaches the smile slowly fades away,
the Chesire Felidae vanishes and hides during the day.
When all hope is lost
when the birds have stoped
signing their sweet melody,
and the flowers lost their sweet scent,
when the grass started withering,
u were there for me.
u defied the odds and stood tall when i was down.
u were able to reach down on me
u reached my hand and pulled me up.
u believed in me even when i didnt believe.
u made me your hero.
and for that i regard as the best gift in my life.
i will rise again and be the hero in me that you have always seen.
i will stand by you forever.
naw i am a believer,
all because of you.
and when i look over my shoulder,
i see the dark past that was my life.
and the thought of you brings light to all of it.
now i can walk with my head held high
because i kno wat m made of
and what i have to do.
i know i have to build you and i
a little heaven on earth
where we will live a happy life that all of us always dreamt of.
we came from humble beginings
and today we stood as legends in the name of love.
we wrote the story of our love in sand
hoping that the wind will not wipe away.
but we dont know of the happenings of tomorrow,
so lets rejoice today,
wat our love has created and brought upon us.
u have not deserted me,
In my darkest hour,
i will also be here with you forever,
for i know u do not want me to go anywhere.
you showed me how it is to love,
i will return the love you gave me
and will remain true to you as u have been true to me.
you are every reason, every hope and every dream i ever had,
and no matter what happens to us in the future,
every day we are together
is the greatest day of my life.
m going nowhere.
unless you push me.
but i will move with greater resistance.
for i do not want to go anywhere,
here is where i want to spend the rest of my days,
i have became happier each day since u came into my life.
and i want to share the happyness with you.
if you will let me stay and enjoy the happyness with you.
there will be obstacles in the journey,
but i think both of us will tacle the obstacle together and overcome.
u always had faith in me,
i also have faith in you, and will forever have that faith,
i plead with you to never loose the faith in me,
even through my downfalls.
m here with you and for you
M here 4eva.
I have been to many, yours and mine!
So much seen with these eyes!
I’ve walked the lonely highways night and day,
Powered with great energy to just run away,
I have crawled so deep within myself just to find you.
Running with a bleeding mind with so many views!
I have a special place that I come to.
It‘s extra silent!
My time to be quite!
It’s completely in sync!
My time to think!
It’s so beautiful!
My time to feel wonderful!
It’s a special place that I find plentiful!
So many I’ve already been!
But many I have still never seen!
I have thought many times of my broken dreams, time and time again,
Powered with great energy to just run free with the wind,
Sunsets and sunrises capturing my view,
So many to come with a gleam that shines through you!
I have a special place that I come to.
I have many visions that I see.
A world untouched and unscathed by its common ground,
Touching a very special place inside of me!
Such a blessing I have found.
It’s extra special!
My only pedestal!
It‘s without pain!
My only gain!
It‘s so exceptional!
My only interval,
And it’s completely unconditional!
Ask fate does the moon shift
As the oceans drift apart
With no moon in this sea of dark
Visions slowly sank
My dead eyes staring blank
While i stay idle
Forming an illusion of an isle
Struggling to find consciousness growing weary
Long thoughts in my head I hold dearly
Chained as I am to body, soul and mind
Barely scraching the surface with nothing to find
There is not a line pourtraying a goal
As I live peacefully with my soul
My last drop of satisfied life that once ran rampant
Drips to the sea of lost souls to be tampered
Twisted and sore my vessel that I lore
My soul began to soar higher then ever before
The slow-falling sun shall soon kiss the sea,
Those two forlorn lovers to meet finally;
The sea blushes red from feeling the warmth
Emanating from within the sun’s hearth
Drawn always together, till distance not much,
Yet ever so cruelly forbidden to touch.
Horizon’s the stage to this tragic play:
Come and be introduced to this dying day.
The pigs were in the yard
Stirring up some trouble;
Along came the goat
And climbed into the middle.
The pigs being much offended
Told goat to butt out his nose;
Cow came along
And a nasty fight arose.
Not wanting to be left out
The chickens got involved;
The horse hearing the commotion
Thought that all should be resolved.
Looking at the clucking chickens
He began to gently scold;
"You're a might too small
For one trying to be so bold."
The cow he gave a kick
And sent him mooing on his way.
"It's time you stay out of this
Go home and eat your hay."
To the goat he firmly said,
"You should butt out of trouble
When the pigs are in the yard
Do not get into the middle."
He who follows this advice
Will keep a happy face;
Don't let getting in the middle
Cause your countenance disgrace.
pestilence restlessness sedatives
represent my main directives
presentment made me infected
selective systematic collective
medative hesitation effects my relevance
like hell needs a prince
never accept limits
convince me long since
i should repent
i never new what i was trying to attempt
i believed it was from hell i was sent
because once you get under my skin
you'll never tempt me again
Friendly enemy or foe
i don't not care at all no
Then into the monster i transform im a fellin
my exoskeleton is made from titanium dripped gelatin
Perfectly flexible cybernetic veins here my bellowing
im set to kill automatic tongue im never mellowing
i spit sparatic people lavish my tongue lashing hello n
goodbye nice to see you have a good time kill a fellow n
realize im a villain include chronic in my song im telling
you dog like wrestling im raw but bloody like saw your welting
from my manic pelting i keep it strapped above my belt im melting
My personification became like a puppeteer
i dangle on the strings of my sanity
and dance in the pale moon lite
its in my nature to believe i am something i am not
a look in the mirror is a trip into a place that has never
been seen before in the depths of my consciousness
Where are my dreams
Where is the light, the hallway
That leads to dreams to hopes
Where is my door to that world
Where dreams and life merge?
Where have my dreams gone
How do I now live without them
I am lost,lost without the dreams
Where are my dreams
In mystery I awed her quietness while Mother Nature accompanied with a wind song
January is her name, eyes bedazzled like the stars that dance in the dark
Cheeks shiny and pristine, skin pale transluscent and new just like this year
The sun crept behind its veil of white and January said she must go
Hard and unimaginable to believe she prompted to stay a lovely thirty one days
31 days of songs, skipping over the frosty crunch of dehydrated land
Holding hands as my year proceeds, she lets go
In sympathy she promises her return same time as always
In reality I let her go and in pain forsake the other months to come
But as she gently climbed back out my window she looks back smiles
Galliantly like a soldier who has finally returned and with a whip of the wind
A gentle whisper she leaves her love in symbolic bumps from head to toe of my body
I shudder grabbing closer my coat
Her scent I still smell... of sage, rosemary and leftover holly
Trinkles of wet cascade down my cheek slightly brushing the edges of my shoulder
As I say...
See ya soon! my dear old gal January
I thought I saw a snowflake in June
Perhaps, it was just silly daydream imaginations
Or were ongoing investigations really do
Upon further horizon inquiries
The sun ended interviews in blushing denial
And when heavenly interrogations finished
The sky was turning guilty blue
I’m absolutely sure
The clouds were somewhere amidst the cover up
Fortunately, a little pigeon squawked
And revealed something of the simple truth
That, there was a brewing
Conspiracy of rumors, flying
So I ruffled stoolie feathers convincingly
To spill the beans, out with his scandalous news
It seems a wintry prima donna
Performer of the coming season
In order to beat the ratings
Broke out early and was somewhere on the loose
Could it be
The very same stitch of ice I'd seen
A snowflake thespian
Acting out in the month of June
Then, I saw a glistening
Of arrogance pass right before my eyes
And tiny banner waved
Followed by the squeaky words “see you very soon”
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief
And then, my tongue was quickly unleashed
As I closed the case of any further flakes
From trying to make their premature Hollywood debuts
Oh how I love
the warmth you bring
with your silky touch
Always with skilled hands
I feel your delicate form,
drawing you closer to me
Fearful you might run,
and I then lose you forever
Your long sexy legs
wrap around me,
feet nestling against mine.
Arching against me
you shape to my curves,
as we become one together
until spent and released as needed
May Day, acid and the National Guard
You tell it so well, you tell it so hard
The dream, the trip and peace rallies you stress
We've heard them before selling war stories for less
Rinding in cars and running in the street
Locked behind bars, afraid of defeat
The dream , the trip and peace rallies you stress
We'ver heard them before selling war stories for less
You've fallen, get up and get out of here
Why risk being buried by the past many years
It's time for a change in you 'Little Boy,'
Pack up your bags, throw out your old toys
Why chance looking back when you're so far ahead
Go hang-up your hang-ups, awaken the dead
For the dream, the trip, and peace rallies you stress
All gone today and, people can care less
The Dream, the Trip and Peace Rallies you stress
Could have helped saved the world but
our youth failed the test.
An adversary friend once told me
that " Sticks' And Stone's May break
But, name's will never
Hurt Me "
So, I hit Him in the head
With a stick
And throw Him off the banister....
That was the beginning of the break
In a once troubled relationship.....
Just the same.. I thank him for his
Help in the resoultion of this problem
Because, He was really starting'
To get on my nerves'.............
*****Moral to the story*****
When you make a suggestion, alway's
Make darn sure that you are perfectly willing
To follow threw......
music is more than an obsession its magic
no room in my heart for another thing
Why does the devil talk to me and i listen to it
feel like i gave myself away a conscript
who wont listen to his parents
a young rebel not caring
but i don't have a selfish center im always sharing
so let me give this back to you what you gave to me world
so much blood hate anger 2 vipers inter twineing and twirling
the black depths of my mind is swirling
the passion i used to have is running low so follow me
No remorse im nothing more than a modern day force
evil sittin on my horse swinging my sword twords
your vocal cords as my hordes of minions claim im insane
as they dancein short shorts take a bat to your porsche
stomp down all your fortes join me im no demon
im just a evil genius alwase scheming about reaping
anyone stupid enough to close there eyes for sleeping
im fiending on feeding you to my inner beast whos dreaming
Of a day i wake up without screaming
I wanna state a cardiac arrest for ya chest
Detest your own humidity within humanity, cats rest in vanity
Controlling underground charisma the mic got me checking
Wrecking one image of fame at a time
Cursed vines connecting family to 10 o clock news
Dues payed, lives strayed in the fray battling demonic entities
Loving life as it was given to me never forgetting how bad days are now
Whatever happened to old love music and jazzy tunes programed to everyone's ear
Fears hold hearts by the numbers count beyond two plus two into thunder
Anesthetic agility slaying demographic amendment abilities
Beckoning nucleic AC's, base combination weeds
Growing fast forget what you knew last
Before trash wonders pounce into eyes of ghetto stricken children
Stereotyped to end up living in hatreds domain, so much pain
Vividly orchestrated symbolically government debated
No-one has awakened accept a lesser few
Scripted by transcendentalist dues, golden hues and cyripted clues
BOOM!, did you feel my vibe
Arise and cry your hearts content, repent what grounds gravitational
Ration cuz they called me action with a little bit of attraction
For tainted pictures posted on shopping center windows
JC penny pillows, couches and Nintendos
Forget all the unnecessary smiles and hug with love's style
Is it wrong to file times when wrong was right
Darkness was light, she became vigilante bright
Yo...this poetry thing is so tight
I just wish i found it earlier in mainstream ignorance
To electrify my repentance mechanism
Schisms tattooed onto tribal ancestor blades
vector shijin played
Yuki im comin girl
Your my world and much more, although I love Viviana
until my heart dies of pore romanticism interpretations
Pounding silhouettes emancipation anticipate that
See i'm just one of a few that appreciate metaphores
and naturalistic lore, women with imaginative cores
Naw it aint hard, see im just cruzin
but i guess its hard to contemplate daily iluzions.
The moon yawned
The wind roared
The earth is fond
of my heart that soars.
The rivers all run
The trees dance
Nature as one
Love by chance.
The forest might not be mine,
But in my dreams i still cross that line.
my memories cant be forgotten
as i picture animals getting rotten.
I still want to hunt with pain,
but not to dream with any blood stain.
No to hunting,taking all animals as a pet
I hold them with care without a bullet,
though I have a meal without flesh
is like drinking water which is not fresh.
my career is no longer to kill,
But to watch the forest from a hill
My last words as I hunt no more
As I enjoy nature by the shore.
Society labels all that we do.
Driving is for the old,
and playing is for the young.
Yet one thing remains for both to share.
Too not only see the beauty of the hills, but to feel them and hear them sing.
Every hill has a story, and every tree and deer path, maybe more.
Every creek and stream can whisper secrets from the past,
telling the story of others who stopped to drink from the same waters.
One life doesn't have to end for a new one to begin.
Life can become endless, if you know how to make it last, it's one of the secrets of nature.
To be shared with the young and the old.
No restrictions apply.
(Old and young in this poem refers to adults and kids)
Whispering wind through the trees
Blowing comfort amid your breeze
How you dilute ones misery
Surely a miracle one could agree
Fill me up with serenity
Take your time …drift through me
There’s another child on the way
I’ll still be here
As I was for generations
Year after year after year
I’ve seen a revolution and a Civil war
Brother against brother and cities burned
Memories of Cassie and me on the front porch
Waiting for her soldier who never returned
Each generation had its’ own story
From heartbreak and tears to romance and love
I was sitting there through it all
Warm sunny days and nights with the stars up above
I was handed down as the torch was passed
Another child born, time moves so fast
As each generation came to be
Mother and child came to me
I was there in the sun so warm
A sense of serenity after the storm
They came to me with love and tears
Seeing many emotions throughout those years
Times have changed, progress to blame
Many things different but a few are the same
Like the seasons changing, one to another
And the bond that exists between child and mother
There’s another child on the way
I’ll still be here
As I was for generations
Year after year after year.
This bumpy ride, it frightens me!
The sun beats down upon my hide
They've tied me up, we're on our way!
They said they're tossing me away!
As wind whips by, we're gaining speed
My cries unheard, no voice to plead
I'm swaying like a drunken fool
This old truck jars, with every turn
A fear in me as tires burn
I'm pushed aside,
They called me names
"Worn out, has seen much better days"
Outlived, they say, my days are done
To be replaced
Forgotten that beneath my skin
Of peeling paint, of beaten face
A life in me, a charm within
This heartless deed, how can this be?...
Please, won't you see the priceless me?
Beneath the grime, is treasured wood
A little care, restore my good!
I've seen so much in all my years
Your child in laughter, yourself in tears
And while you rocked, I soothed your fears
Tis not my fault that I've grown old
While offering you a place to hold
You bounced your child upon a knee
Please hold a spot of care for me!
Don't dump me in among the muck
Among the heap of worthless rot
Have pity, please!!...forsake me not!
I'm worthy of a place, a part
A spot of mercy from your heart!
Please turn around, back to my home
I'll offer rest, for weary bones
When days are hard, and winter comes
I'll hold you up, when you're alone.
Revised for Matt Caliri's contest "Speak, Chair, Speak"
I am a dark metaphysical being
Created by the wall of reality breaching
the malevolent Fabric of your nightmares
I am not the boogie man no
I am the force in your mind that describes depression
I am the all mighty one who makes love falter
I am the beast who shines no light but engulfs you in the night
If i am broken
it means once i was whole
If i am dead
it means once i was alive
If i am depressed
It means i have once been happy
Sin is what covers the devil's skin... lies on his grin that hides from within. Evil that drips from his
chin... grows a flower from the soil deep within a cloud from hell. Growing a flower with an evil
scent, turns the soil in a cloud darker then ever... making our grey skies that we have today.
I am aimed and directed for a shooting star.
In the midst of a collision I am traveling far.
Nothing can stop me for I am on a lifelong mission.
I’m timing the clocks and gaining some recognition.
I am in and out of reality stumbling onto a delusion.
Sometimes I want to run free and go into seclusion.
The wind tries to hinder me so I shew it to go away.
I stand on the Moon and make the Sun arise a new day.
I am looking down at a world that is misunderstood.
If I could have I would have and then again I should.
But that is neither here nor there so I will fair.
I have accumulated a bit and have much to share.
However, there is a cornerstone one can get stuck.
One must find the mother Star and hope for lady luck.
Once you find it you will be well on your way,
You’ll rise with the Sun and be brighter each day.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
Hot, hot, hot, am I
like the castanet’s of a flamingo dancer!
basted, laced, wrapping me
how dare you!
I will singe you raw.
Curl the hairs in your nose.
roll back the edges of your life.
Let me go and gentle be
the rosy light of candle
let me go and cheery cheeks I’ll make
on children from Nod.
Hot, hot, hot, am I
the truck that gave me my name
it’s betraying hose defies my flame
Peel back the paper sheath
of my dismay!
Scrawl!!! scribble!!! melt and dribble me
Fire Engine red am I and freed I will be!
Bull baiter red, bloodshot red
Fire Engine red colors the bloody
and blushing world.
Get your cray on!
Gathered dust of centuries old
adorns her great celestial robe
Glowing embers in eternal folds
threaded into gigantic orbs
Her face ravaged by endless vestige
of time, curled around her arm
a void pregnant with infinite age
etched on her heavenly palm
In dark chalices of her eyes
a billion candles light her tears
in abounding boulevards they baptize
portals of amaranthine frontiers
Morass of her enticing plait
ensnared many an adventurer
Hunters, archers, at her gate
lie crucified in love forever
Prying eyes gaze in wonder
at her astral boroughs
Dwarfed in its order
is an illusive chaos
At her altar are sacrificed
the lives of countless doomed
from their ashes then arise
Phantoms from her womb
The sorceress at her soiree
beckoning with her wand
christened with the sobriquet
The invisible great beyond
This gentle rose, how sweet it seems,
The waters flow down quiet streams.
The soft winds blow, spread out with ease,
My smiling rose sways in the breeze.
She's small and simple, yet she grows,
She always shines, as any rose.
Her velvet touch, so soft like fleece,
Her freedom's never out for lease.
The stars that shine, the moon so round,
Her strong roots growing underground.
She's tender, though she's fierce inside,
Those feelings, now, are put aside.
Her heart still beats, she is alive,
Our feelings shared in her do strive.
She's always there, she cares for you,
And no one's love could be so true.
Thorns have roses, that may be,
Although her beauty's plain to see.
Strong and stiff, with petals cream,
Her character is most supreme.
Surrounding her the scenery
Is more than you think it to be.
Perfect posture, striking pose,
The life of plain and simple rose!
Shameless when it comes to lo vin' you
A poet with heart
Rhythm in search of rhyme
A fire about to rage
Simple yet difficult.,
A book wanting to be read
An eagle needing to be free
This is what I am!
I see winter much like a ghost
The cold and white I remember most.
When spring arrives it just disappears
But now it is snow and cold I fear.
Haunting shadows from lifeless trees
Set this mood that is inside me.
I look around the world seems dead
Visions of a ghost return to my head.
I see a mist rise from the unfrozen pond
I dream of a place that is far beyond.
You know of its presence yet it’s not there
I seek signs of life yet find them nowhere.
It is cold I can see my breath in the air
The cold wind sends shivers much like a scare.
I think of a ghost like the past at my side
I try to seek shelter it is warmer inside.
The visions before me seems so real
While the presence of a ghost I do feel.
Winter is much like death renewal is spring
Life shall be restored and the colors it brings.
Everyday, every time that goes by,
I seem to make the wrong choices.
Mistakes u might say.
Will u ever learn..??
Instead of going right I take left,
Instead of moving straight I take a U-turn,
Instead of moving ahead, i keeping looking back for unnecessary things.
Mistakes I might say,
or may be one will say.
I regret so many things, I have done.
People I have been with.
I am not blaming people without any reason.
or just simply..
Promises I have broken.
Trying no to show none of its.
I turn away from everyone and everything.
Is that another mistake..?
How do I open up my heart?
And let others in...?
When that has only gotten me hurt!!
May b I should try...
And broken my heart before, should I change?
Who I am???
Being me is how I express my individuality.
And I realize that either my way Mistakes are a part of whom I am.
The midnight magic sprinkles in the air.
I can hear the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost to any existence.
This moment is mine that I create.
So very, very much I am content!
My soul is engaged with such a paradise.
I am aimlessly there.
Ah yes! Yes indeed,
You are my grass in the desert and I am so very, very near.
The glitter is everywhere,
I can breathe the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost for time.
This moment is mine that I make.
So very, very much I am entwined.
My soul is entangled with magic so sublime,
I am without a single care.
Yes, yes, yes!
You are my grass in the desert and I do often come there.
The radiance I stand and bear.
I can touch the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost without a cause.
This moment is mine that I partake.
So very, very much I am lost.
My soul is entangled in this web of mine,
I am so very, very much there.
I am lost in time.
Ah yes, yes, yes indeed!
You are my grass in the desert and I am here to share.
Blossoms are blooming everywhere planting the harvested seeds.
My grass in the desert is all that I will ever need, even when so desolately bare!
From city to city I can see the lights!
From time to time they are incredibly bright.
I’m on a highway-run to my destiny!
From city to city I can see new things!
From time to time instant excitement it brings.
I’m on a highway-run to my identity!
From city to city I can see all there is to be!
From time to time I am beyond my own capacity.
I’m on a highway-run to my reality!
From city to city I can see so much!
From time to time I am more than enough.
I’m on a highway-run to my eternity!
From time to time and from city to city,
A highway run for me is more than enough for my plenty!
Regimented in rows
Shoulder to shoulder
Front to back
Ready to explode
At a moments notice
In the ranks
With slender neck
Stylish and sophisticated
She stands sparkling
Womanly wide hips
Sexily swarve and supreme
Her bubbly presence
Stands out in a crowd
The perfect partner
Together folk clink
As flutes play tribute
Celebrating special occasion
Sun from the window, shines on my grain
My faded patina, now gleaming with pride
Broken and shabby, after years all alone
Once stored in rafters, so lost and afraid
You have dusted my cobwebs, and glued my rails
There was love in your touch...since the day you unveiled
That hiding place in the damp attic gloom
Long days of neglect, days of disgrace
I've been rescued from loneliness of that dark silent space
A remnant of childhood, from your days long ago
You have restored me to life, to be worthy and new
Do you remember the songs, that she hummed to you?
When she rocked you at midnight, under a velvet moon?
While you dusted my bones, and shined my face
Did your memories fall back to that magical place?
Where the world was your oyster, with childhood charms
When you were held to her breast, in soft loving arms?
Sweet nights spent together when the world was kind?
Now the rhythmic thump of my rails on the floor
Will return all those moments, to reflect on once more
You will feel on your face, and I on my grain
Sun's warming shine through the window glass pane
Wherever you are, that old world, or new...
To be home again, is to belong here with you....
Written for Matt Calliri's contest "Speak, Chair, Speak"
Traveling through the galaxies of many and more,
I come up under a Star I have never seen before.
It had light brighter than anything I’ve ever seen.
It was intelligent and wise and incredibly keen.
It could talk it could dance and it could even sing.
It had made all of the worlds and gave them a king.
It had made the Sun and the Moon just for me.
It made me the link for the whole world to see.
I was to link each kingdom according to orders.
Each one had four corners and then four borders.
So I went around the galaxies linking what I could.
Many had burned out Stars that just never would.
I saw where there were no towns or cities at all.
I seen all of the planets made great and small.
There was a missing link to the universe I saw.
I found myself linking it all up standing in awe.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
Many there be have turn their backs to thee/
No sense of remorse,
No notion of integrity or respect/
You stand so proud with your head in the air/
Waving your hands like you just don't care ?
But none the worse for wear,
Heroes Are Not Forgotten !
Those men and women who have waved the banner high !
With every bit of stregnth that have fought with no remorse,
We often get tongue tied within ourselves/
In the great melted pot we call The United States of America,
It was for freedom that our ancestor's fought to so desperatley uphold/
Far too many of us take it for granted !
They have eyes but tend to look the other way/
Paying litle to no homage to buw their heads to pray ?
One day every knee will bow and tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord !
There will be no mistake about it !
Those that pierced his side and pulled his beard/
Many say that us Christians are wierd/
You will know on that very day that he's not someone that you could play !
Heroes Are Not Fogotten !
Just look what that ass did Ben Laden !
We need to speak up now or forever hold your peace/
This world for some is a will for power,
Perhaps your all in need for a long cold shower/
Stay up late to listen to the radio The Hour Of Power !
No, Heroes Are Not Forgotten in this land of cotton !
We will lift up our head high to look toward the sky/
As a beacon of hope to a hurting worls in need/
Where as other's are just dying to see you bleed,
We will remember John Wayne in this old house of pain/
Bob Marley and The Wailer's,
Ronald Reagan and his awesome plans !
Last but the best Jesus is my man !
No matter where you plan to reach
You began with a step.
The steps you take are your fate
The pathways are your destiny.
Our destiny dictates what our life will be
It choose what we become.
Our destiny is our only fate
Which we cannot kick against.
We are powerless under its influence
And we can only watch helplessly as it controls us.
Destiny the government that we cannot complain
About ti rules and ideologies.
He place us on the right path
And all we need to do is follow.
Man should not rush his destiny
FOR surely, your destination will be
Reached only by his destiny.
YOU cannot surpass your destiny
Likewise you will never stay underneath
YOU will only reach and match your destiny.
Once we were strong like the tall oak tree
As bright as the sun on a hot summer's day
Passion so strong you would stop and be still
Beauty as deep as the red, red rose
But now like the branch of the old oak our love has fallen
Just as the sun that fades into the deep, deep darkness so does our love
As we move quickly in the hustle and bustle of the day
We forget to be still and so then our love is forgotten
Just as the beauty of the rose faded so did our love
And so it seems this is a story of faded love
There was a knock on my window, out of crusty lids I peared
It was no more that an old friend
A friendship revisited once a year
Her name was January with eyes as light as the New Year
As I swung open the window she clammored in
Greeting me with the leaveless branches adorn top of her head
Kissed me politely on the cheek and filled my world with her ambitious light
She took off her coat that was sequined with dry acorns and twigs from the bird houses
Out of generosity I offered a steamy cup of tea served from the China she led my family
To give to me on her New Year
Her icy lips cooled the tea allowing the bag to glide smoothly over the frozen liquid
Creating the perfect figure eight
Her eyes twinkled like a new born seeking its first glimpse at this new world that began
Its first today
I asked her of her escapades from the previous night
She gleamed about her lovers that gathered around her sparkle and communioned
With a kiss to mark a passion that in all hopes should last past this three sixty five
She teared at the lives who lost out on their very breath
That she should never live to see again
But she shall live always
Naked, skeletal, the forest shivers.
Bark thickening in the wily wind.
Unadorned the trees slumber on.
Their limbs seeming to fight off the
onslaught of nightmarish Winter.
Twig tips claw avengingly at the sky
and rake torn nails across windowpanes.
Slumber soothes not the dreamer
who waits in a frenzy of anguish
for the kind covering of snow.
Acryllic paint covers my face, arms, shoulders, and chest
It has labeled me as weirder than the rest
But I do not care what they all say
Because I express myself in this way
I was once trapped in a deep mist
But when I emerged I became a poet, a sculptor, and an artist
I write, I sculpt, and I paint over how I feel
About things that do not have to be real
All of you should be able to know
That I let my imagination flow
No words can describe what I think of
I do not think of pain, beauty, loss, or love
I mostly think of all the ways
I can express myself most days
Whether I write a poem, draw a picture,
Or sculpt something so pure
That nobody will try but cannot comprehend
All the things I want to do will never end
Because the imagination that runs in my head
Will never ever be dead
I am a leaf in your lake,
Floating towards your thoughts.
A whispered wave, in your soundless sea.
A raindrop, sliding down your fragranced flower.
A white cloud, in your spotless sky.
A repeating pearl in your never-ending chain.
A dancing girl in your empty court.
But you are... you are to me, a sleeping child in my empty world!!!
Here I sit
Solid in form
Exposed to the elements
Never being born
I wait to be found
And put in a pocket
If cut I won't bleed
I may be a locket
In search for nothing
I'm not alone
I'm beautiful inside
Outside I'm a stone
People pass by me
They never stop
A child picks me up
Into a basket I drop
I sit in a room
'Til one day I'm touched
The feel of a hand
Never meant so much
My fear turns into doubt, choking me endlessly!
It is a struggle to breath something that builds up inside of me.
Leave me alone!
Come back please stay!
Are they lies?
Are they true?
I need to know what is real or not!
Are you playing me like a game on Saturday night?
It seem easy for you to hurt me like I am a dart board in front of your face!
You throw something sharp at me and WAM!
It pierces right into my heart bulls eye, congratulations! 100 points for that.
Go ahead try again go for my soul this time!
Just crush who I am.
It's okay I won't cry.
Not for you, not this time!
Jab me, poke me, call me names!
I don't care I'm not to blame!
You hate yourself I can see that now, it's not me I wouldn't cut you as deep as you cut me!
I ache and strain myself bending my mind around it everyday.
I wake up, I am afraid to rollover and see your face!
In my dreams at night is where i am most happy.
I am not afraid with my eyes closed.
There in my dreams I am whatever, where ever, and with whoever I want!
If I could sleep the days away into the night I would be happy!
In my mind where some of my deepest and most private thoughts lurk, waiting for the right
time to jump out and shout surprise!
A place where when I wake up and rub the sleep out of my eyes, I won't be afraid and I
A place where fear doesn't exist and the pain subsides, where fear lets go and I can
breath again, where you cannot hurt me because I won't let you in.
My own sanctuary where I am happy and safe from harm.
This is my untitled life.
A dainty Dandelion Puff
was waltzing with the Wind,
donning white feather headdress
and black suede mary janes.
She graced each twirl with poise,
emoting sweetly to Heaven's voice.
Like a starlight in the morning,
she strucked Daisy with awe;
like a pixie in the meadow
she dropped Butterfly's jaws.
Alas, her dance was thwarted to a halt
by two clasping Hands that hitted her like a jolt.
It was then followed
by a Breath so warm
He just wanted to wish,
He meant no harm.
Seconds after, She was blown in the air,
still a bit dizzy, she danced with flair.
Once again, she danced and waltzed
'til another pair of hands clasps her to a halt.
How to breathe...in the in between.
Is to see that which is unseen,
perfection, betrayed, through
This is me and how i fell to my
My cell is myself.
my key a broken portrait,
given unto immortality's last
Just outside my window
a row of coned shaped trees bend their foolish heads
for his attention.
He can have his way with them........
yet with such a wily nature, he passes over them.
Instead, he slowly slithers through my window while I sleep
the angle of his glance makes my closed eyes flutter,
and I smile........
His appearance, casts shadows on the wall, as he stares across the room at me.
I feel him move over me
I am sun kissed by this welcome intruder, by his warming touch, his flaming breath
Dazzled by his embrace, I toss the quilt, and open myself to him
He caresses so softly, warming my heart, and making me sigh...
with gentle touch upon my face
I bask in his love, as I lie in sweet gratitude, my sleepy state...
enraptured with sweet contentment
Soaking up and drunk with the solstice of his shine
Outside, eucalyptus branches are jealous
Impatient and longing to feel this splendor
.....But, woefully,... even I....begin to feel his presence is fading
As angry clouds return to steal away our moment
He runs and hides! No longer do I feel the kiss....
Coolness envelopes me as darkness returns again
His golden touch is gone, I am once again alone in the shadow of the gray morning light
I must pull my blanket up and over me...
to take away the chill
Inspired by Miss Christie Moses 'The Soul of Sunshine' contest
When it rains, it shines in these radiant beaming eyes of mine.
When it's cold, it's warm in these promised lands I've come afar to farm.
When you're there, I'm right here and there's nothing for us to fear.
Nights become darker and day’s grow lighter, each becomes more vividly bright.
I love, I hate, but my life has brought us yesterday, today and once again tomorrow.
My world is huge, and so are you perfectly attuned standing straight in front of the line.
I loved you, I hated you and still I brought you neither malice nor any bodily harm.
It is the echoes of uncelebrated storms in your heart I can soundly hear.
Over here and even over there! I‘m still mistaken by shined or shaded Earthly lights!
It is your love for your life of just being that I've tempered and borrowed.
Wallah! It's "A Poet's Day" and you shall be my insatiable ennobled prey.
I am always right by your side to accommodate your pleasurable stay.
Forbidden and pardoned from up above, goodness planted my glory on Saint's Day".
Wallah! "A Poet's Day" and She comes with rain or He comes with shine.
Promised from up above, you are with me from all formations of time!
I roll and I sway reckoning these implanted seeds are here for a very long stay.
I loved you and I hated you, but I'm here by very afar and by many of few.
Wallah! "A Poet's Day" cultivates golden glaring growing seeds of light to sow.
You shall know me and we shall produce a world none can ever show.
I'm yours and you're mine, yesterday, today, and then tomorrow we will shine as two.
TA DA! Your beloved reigns above all your painful empty sorrows buried alive inside of you!
I see what I see
But I never complain
I see tears, hunger, torture and brutality
But I feel no pain.
I see what I see
But I never rejoice
I see smiles, celebrations, fun and joy
But I have little choice.
I see what I see
But I never tell
I see love, betrayal, treachery and sacrifice
But nothing can turn me pale.
I am a mute spectator
A witness of every event in life
I carry an album that I cannot share
My images are like blunt knife.
And yet I see what I see
I seek no glory, crave no fame
Because after all,
A pair of eyes is all that I am.
I Carry With Me Color
If you stare at me long enough your eyes will burn hot ember
Until they burn into flaky cinders.
Cinders blown with the wind to the bag
Slung across my shoulder.
A bag the color of an artist’s palette
Filled with salmon pinks and indigo violets.
I carry with me colors for many different occasions,
And sometimes secrets.
My marigold yellows are for sunshiny days
And kids contagious laughter.
I carry with me streaks of burning cinnamon red
For lovers to embrace and ponder.
Sometimes deep within my rainbow bag splashes wet sea foam green
And blue for those in need of salty tears and a good cry.
You might ponder why I carry this palette of colors weighing me down
Day after day.
That is simple, Color defines us.
We carry colors with us every day,
Sometimes they weigh us down in murky umber black puddles,
Sometimes they lift us up to the lavender sky.
You ask me what I carry with me?
I carry with me all of your wasted color in my rainbow bag.
One day, these broken cinders will be ready
When you come back for them,
And that is when you will see your own colors
Floating around you.
I crept through the night just like a creepy crawler.
The smell of dust mixed in the reek of wine.
Lo and behold there was a crack in a mighty fine line.
Dripping and drooling with many more pleasures to be,
The darn rats were the nastiest gnawers.
Dark and dinghy I continued to look and see,
The Private Cellar locked with no key.
Back and forth my knees break and bend,
Leaning back reaching across the floor I’m at my end.
Walls and tunnels with no light in sight,
Lo and behold I’m a match to light in flight.
Panting and hissing with many more needs to please,
The darn bats were the trickiest thieves.
Cold and sweaty I continued to be a crook.
The Private Cellar is where I found the baited hooks.
On the inside and looking out, I sit below.
Maybe I am here to wait?
Deep within the depths of me I must go.
My world is all mine being one that only I know.
So many things in here that I can debate!
I see a world of madness so I steadily take it all in.
New things come to me, time and time again.
My silent solitude renews what time creates.
On the outside, I can look deep within.
Maybe I am here to know?
Deep within the depths of me is where it begins.
My world is all mine being one that only I must transcend.
So many things in here that I can show!
I see a world of confusion, but I can always navigate.
New things come to me, the more and more to vindicate.
My silent solitude always tells me so.
Deep within I can come and go.
Maybe I am here to show?
My world is all mine being the one that only I accumulate.
So many things in here that I can comprehend!
I can see the beginning and I can see the end.
New things come to me, one by one to appreciate.
My silent solitude is the womb in which I alone can grow.
© Copyright: 1997 Ann Rich
Her graceful arms
In sleeves of billowed white
Reach up to touch the stars
That twinkle in a velvet night
As she leans upon his breast
She takes his every breath
As they dip and sway
Across a moonlight sea
A silhouette of beauty
The schooner ‘Ballerina’
Dancing with the summer breeze
My Yellow Butterfly;
Pinched in the corner of my eye,
Ah, ‘tis just my yellow butterfly!
A swarm of bees came chomping down on its tail,
And whipping up winds it stirs up new jets to sail!
Staying gallantly afloat it drifts wayward up into a puffed up cloud awaiting it in the air.
A red cardinal bird it did undoubtedly meet perched high on top a big pesky grizzly bear.
It just flies fancy free through the needles and straws of prickly Pine Trees.
And it starts circling around until it is across the rolling roaring High Seas!
My yellow butterfly just zip zaps itself right on by.
It is either flying too low or it is flying up on high!
On top of the clouds, I did get to watch its magnificent tail set sail.
Triumphantly, it stays afloat between a big shark and mighty whale!
A horde of yellow butterflies suddenly dumped down on me with voices that blare.
The journal of flying from here to there will get everyone everywhere except in err!
Yellow butterflies were coming from everywhere just so joyous for my eyes to see,
And I was caught up on a cloud when my yellow butterfly ushered in its array of me.
My Yellow Butterfly!
The gingerbread man sleeps in the pan
Until the spatula comes, and the hand -
To snap off his crackling, new-born limbs
No end to human appetites - and whims ...
He's stuck there, broken, on the baking pan -
Little doughy, cooked - little doughy man ...
He'll feel every bite, now counted with dread -
Until finally, someone bites off his head!
Now that he knows, he hopes death will be swift -
"Bite through my neck, and bring me death's gift!"
"On this sheet, I'll live as fully as I can" ...
A very short life, for a gingerbread man!
Oh this Sea from left to right,
How my mind gathers your visions to my sight.
You clouds stray from over here to over there,
And my lungs fill deep as they gather you into my air.
I am the neutral zone with all of my love that I share
The “Palms by the Sea” give my visions their true light!
In each I can see myself inside of a seemingly height.
The Palms by the Sea are my only solemn oath I fight!
Up inside of the tallest tree I shall surely come,
Your Earth, your Moon and your Sun I shall make them all come undone!
I am you as you breathe my life and it is your love that I shall proclaim in the moment I seize!
Up inside of you I am proclaiming my every single genuine need.
The “Palms by the Sea” guard the shores for my more, my all, or even none!
®Registered: Ann Rich 1997
Hearts of gold fused by two making me the only one,
Aries, “I am” is you to all of us who have only just begun.
Crystal clear the visions I seek, you are the one that is complete!
You are a diamond in the sky; I look and wonder why you’re at my feet
I wish, I wish for your beautiful brilliant shooting stars.
I pray, I pray for our dragging existing time you balance so very far.
If I had one then I’d have two and the more I’d give for you to share.
If I were, then I’d be again where you float through the sky on a dare.
In the midnight skies I see the diamond souls lined all in your corner.
But the “Archer” I am and the “Bulls-eye” I target from your former.
Flash by flash I see your lights and one by one they glare by my own given fate.
Inside and looking out, I see your brilliance aiming extremely high with my “God-given” bow.
The stars aligned like chicken pox spread from here to there and one of them my mate.
Outside and looking in, I see your intelligence and draw my arrow with a big lump in my throat.
If I could, then I would dash from here to there shining the Diamond Souls by my very own.
But the “Archer” I see what I know I am aiming for up on high and you my Aries,
You just tempted your own fate with your diamonds on my “Royal Throne“.
®Registered: 2001 Ann Rich
I am something you hold when you miss,
And I am forgotten all but a gentle kiss!
I am the cold draft when you’re all alone.
And I am the smile that generates your happy home.
I am something for nothing but I’m more than most.
And I am your summer breeze, I am your host.
I am the tear that falls from your eyes,
And I am the light that outshines your lies.
I am the flutter in your beating heart,
And I am the breath that gives you a fresh start.
I am the lump in your throat when lost for words,
And I am the silence you have always heard.
I am the warmth traveling in your blood,
And I am the memory you instantly flood.
I am the dream you’ve always had,
And I am the one with you happy or sad.
I am the one that always told you so,
And I am the only person you positively know.
I am taken and given because I just am,
And I am exactly what I am,
And not even by you will I be jammed!
© Copyright Ann Rich 2006
For decades I grew in a foreign land,
by a forest unclaimed by mortal man.
Here the trees were old and strong,
silent but for the wild bird's song.
Man came and named the forest "Black,"
and many of us were felled by the axe.
I was hewn and carved with care,
skillfully crafted: a beautiful chair.
My wood is carved with vines and blooms,
my beauty has graced a hundred rooms,
oiled and waxed by countless hands,
a silent witness since time began.
I remember the forest, silent and pure,
and the craftsman so skilled, and yet so poor.
I remember each household, each parent and babe,
each kitten curled up and the purr that they made.
Now I reside in a museum of art,
roped off from all touch, it's breaking my heart.
The people come and they stand and they stare,
and none of them realize that--I am aware.
I stare out into this huge blue Sea,
And the waves, well, they just carry me.
My mind drifts so far away,
Because the Ocean is where I lay!
I’m off to never-never land once again,
So take my hand and let this journey begin!
I listen carefully to the Oceans roar,
The waves, well they just help me soar.
My mind relaxes with my day,
Because the Ocean is where I always lay!
I’m off to never-never land on a hunch for so much more,
So take my hand and let’s find new places we can both explore!
I can see blue water with big fluffy white rolls,
Waves, well they just capture my entire soul.
My mind just helpless with my day,
Well, it is the Ocean where I lay!
Off in never-never land I can always see,
A gigantic Ocean covering over me!
Far away in never-never land near the Ocean is where I always lay.
Lifeless in the sand is where I’ll always be.
So take my hand and be lifeless with me in the sand.
Together, just you and me on our journey to never-never land,
Just lifeless in the sand, together you and I and always we’ll be hand in hand!
© Copyright: 1997 Ann Rich
You smiled at me just the other day.
And what did I do? I just walked away.
Carrying myself over to the other way!
So now I miss you and literally I’ve died!
I weep until I release what I have sighed!
Now there is no place for me to run or hide.
And all of that was just another priceless penny!
And believe me I have collected stacks of many!
I saw you when we were at or in the end.
And that’s when I knew where I had been.
I connected you to me from way back when.
Loving you invigorates my soul to up and live.
I’m more than enough and have plenty to give.
There is no-thing left for me to accept or forgive.
It is another adorned and decorated priceless penny!
I suppose I stand attesting time! So, did you get any?
Laying next to you by this rushing bayou I marvel in awe of you a miracle I cant
live without you. Graciously your beauty lifts me unforgiven your kisses breath life
into me. No vivid metaphor of love can describe you dynamic and tremendous I'm
unworthy of you. Harmonized forever I stand by you embrace me immaculate
angel there is no where I'd rather be then here with you loving me.
Reality is liken to
That which bridges'
Of sanity and
Holds' it's sublimation
To embrace full disclosure
The black sand,
On the land of death
Is the only thing
That made the flower stand,
This flower is living while dying
it's smiling while crying
it's living surrounded by death
it's feeling happy while feeling depressed
it's seeing darkness while seeing light
it's living day while living night
it's living everyday waiting for tomorrow
it's praying for God to feel no more sorrow
looking up and never looking down
listening to its soul and no other sound
flying in the sky while standing on the ground
watering itself by tears of angels
that fall all around...
A lost of temperance
Must be a waste of time
Fore neither of the same
Shall their ever be two
Separate they may seem
Eyes so bright with a light that shines,
You brought this to me.
Lost time the two that be!
Eyes of light with the look of love in sight!
Eyes that glare with a gleam that shows,
You revealed this to me.
Things to know the two that be!
Eyes that dream with the look of love or so it seemed,
Eyes with tears a promised pain,
You gave this to me.
A list that I retain the two that be!
You are the eyes that clear the look of loves hidden fears.
Eyes with mystery shine in you,
You lay this before me.
So much I do the two that be!
Eyes with dignity the look of love in all of its reality!
Eyes with deepness a reflection of you,
You presented this to me.
A lie in my truth the two that be!
Eyes with achievement the look of love in all of its completeness!
Eyes of you in a vision of me,
Forever you and me until I die the two that be,
For you’re the eyes that already knew the look of love with its promise renewed!
© COPYRIGHT: 1997 ANN RICH
Where do we go when we go away?
Where do I go when I want to stay?
Sometimes I am lost and I can not see.
“God”, I look up and all I can do is pray.
Sometimes it is hard for me to even believe.
And then sometimes you set me so free!
Why does it have to be this way?
What is it that you need for me to say?
Sometimes I run free with the night.
“God”, I look around and I find my prey.
Sometimes I can see the crystal clear light.
And then sometimes I enhance my very own fight.
What mountain do you need for me to climb?
Where am I destined in this blessed and holy time?
Sometimes heaven is right at my front door.
“God”, I look down and even I can draw the line.
Sometimes I push for your all or more.
And then sometimes I am my own warrior.
Why do I balance these things with you?
What is it that you need for me to do?
Sometimes I just wonder why.
“God”, I am looking all around simply passing through.
Sometimes I am just tired and want to sit down for a cry.
And then sometimes I know that I have always been the one that tried.
© Copyright: 1997 Ann Rich
I‘ve an Angel of Mercy watching over me,
His eyes are watching me from sea to sea.
Staggeringly, I did stand there and I waited for only one who really knew.
Balanced by shining Stars, the universe earned my golden wings of two.
I fly high above from worlds torn apart by a magnificent set of three.
Cast down to Earth the galaxies spread far and apart just to be free.
We watch and we sit as we wonder when will all of this be?
Angels of Mercy balance the scales of lighter years that shall come to be.
I rise above Seas and Skies that can not set a boundary high enough for me. .
Scattered by harvested seeds delusions are sent plentifully my way,
Up and down I am this way this day and I shall make my own way.
You feel, you see, but you can not believe that it is me, the pure and true one.
Angels of Mercy hear my plea, for I believe and soon I will be forever done!
Flying here and flying over there,
Only you know how much I truly care.
Angels of Mercy be on your merry way!
Me and mine will peacefully war with every single one of you,
Eternally conquering exactly what I as one have set out to do!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2004
What would happen if the sun,
Was to wake up this morning
In revolt and refused to rise?
What would happen if the Moon,
Got jealous due to the suns’ Revolt
Early this morning, and decided to
Tonight to start it’s own
What would happen if the stars,
Were left alone in the sky confused
Witnesses of a revolt followed by rebellion?
What would happen if in the aftermath
The stars, held a vote resulting in a
Unanimous decision to flee the sky?
The sun woke in revolt
The moon follow with its’ own rebellion
The stars eloped without giving Notice.
Hence, "The sky would be left unoccupied with
Numerous Vacancies. ”
How time doth flow,
Like grains of sand,
From the bony fingers,
Of death’s cold hand.
A blood stained scythe,
His weapon of choice,
A broken hourglass,
His haunting voice.
His cold blade hacking,
Piercing skin and bone,
No time for forgiveness,
No time to atone.
The eyes of God are in these eyes standing here when I look at you.
My salvation! You’re honest and true crying real teardrops of heartfelt tears.
As the Sun sets by night and rises to the dawning of our blessed brand new day,
I Wed Thee to the very best of the all there’ll ever be of me.
I promise to cherish the smile upon your face and to conquer your early morning hidden fears
I promise to abide abundantly to a heavenly scent that comes from me through you,
Forever I’m your lock and you my Master Key!
The eyes of God are in the eyes of you!
My breath, my life, and all of my existing meaning,
I do Wed the “Most Honorable Husband in Thee”!
As the Moon lights the evening skies and fulfills these promising days,
I Wed Thee to everything God ever meant for you in this world to be.
I promise to adore your brilliance and to magnify your streaks of gold in the Sun’s blinding glare!
I Wed Thee to a most promising brand New prospering Year!
I promise to Love, Honor, and Respect your wisdom for many lives that shall follow and proceed!
Following you, I am always so very close when you’re near.
I Wed Thee and by these hands we shall forever be blessed and correctly fed.
I Wed Thee, by my God given name and I now declare our all a final by being done and said!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2002
The pressure is on.
And my day has come and gone.
Anticipation rides on the wings of my patience,
And all of this condensed into a bundle of one.
Defined and detailed, I assure you I am intense,
Time for a deep drawn breath I can barely squeeze.
Comfort covers my essence while I sit calm with the breeze.
Closing my eyes and never looking in,
My day has come to its final destined end.
Conflicts of interest rides on the wings of my anticipation,
Bringing me to where it truly all begins.
Defined and detailed, I assure you I am standing on top of my foundation.
Time for my eyes to correct the visions I can finally adjust to see.
Surfing the winds while locked dead into this God given breeze!
The heat is rising and turned all of the way on.
And my day has only just begun.
Restless energy tailing on the wings with my conflicts of interest,
All traveling like the speed of a mighty powerful one!
Defined and detailed, I assure you I am impressed.
Time for my hard thoughts to penetrate my deep!
Tranquility consumes the best of me while I sit calm with the breeze.
Opening my eyes and always looking out,
My day is what this has become all about.
Restless energy rides on the wings of my destination,
All in serious neglect balanced by my own given doubt!
Defined and detailed, I assure you I am my own perfect explanation.
Time for my deepest drawn breath, a struggle indeed!
I am calm with the breeze,
Riding on these wings of my personal conformation!
®Registered: Ann Rich 1997
The Trainer is skilled and knowledge is way too real.
Precision is marked and the course plainly lain out.
The trainer is everything and has no room for doubt.
Our lessons are here in which we share what we feel.
We’re certified by gold appeal to His right thumb seal.
Our perfection with His direction is a challenge we must all meet.
Teaching or lectures the trainer’s word sits upon a cozy high seat.
The Trainer is the one, teaching us why we have all come to care.
Articulate in balancing those massive scales,
He is making us ready for His truth or dare.
Slowly but surely He removes all of our veils.
Testing and provoking the thoughts that we all must greatly compare,
The Trainer is detained and responsible to the reality we all shall bare.
So listen here and listen there, eventually fame is no more good or fun.
The Trainer teaches us that it is our principles to be all by being one.
The Trainer is well thought out even if the job comes undone.
The Trainer is my heir I bare for global defeat fair and square!
Looking high at the top of a tree
Leaves glisten dancing in the sun
Seems the rest of them stand shaded
Quiescently as their day is done~
Giant Fichus grows steadily higher
Gaining momentum in the bright sun
Extending branches lingering out
A thick winding trunk of merging fun~
Piling underneath this grand tree
Fallen dead leaves bathe in the sun
Congregating turning to mulch
One more purpose they’re almost done~
Imagining superb life unfair
Comparing life to leaves in the sun
Like the sparkling trees tallest leaves
Position has bearing on every one~
Riding in the winds of humbled inspiration,
I’m coming for a mighty restoration!
Stars so bright, lights increase by a great number.
The Moon leads the day its way.
Riding in much thunder,
Bolt by bolt, all in all it’s but a ray!
Soaring in clouds of separation,
I’m going for a mighty preparation!
Skies so blue, seashores engulfed by a great encumber.
The Sun bleeds the only ray.
Soaring in much wonder,
Beam by beam, all in all I’m on my way!
All in all, dashing through every ray!
All in all, I’m shining in the light of today!
® Registered: Ann Rich 2002
Over her restless form he plunges
as beneath him she wildly bucks,
shameless, overwhelmed by lust.
His tense, rigid body rises and falls
against her screams and moans,
riding her as she freely abandons.
How the hungry lovers fit together
in that reckless, smoldering dance
that only they could truly master.
Yielding to a mad giving and taking,
heedless of eyes possibly watching,
mates the untamed, scandalous pair.
Indeed a lone voyeur closely watches
while the bold act goes on between
the sailboat and the turbulent sea.
I'm here, but you can't see me.
I'm always in your presence,
I only come out when I sense the need.
I'm in the midst of the stillness of the night,
Especially when all is asleep and in bed.
I'm only heard and never seen,
Being jostled away is a dread.
I rest gently on a baby's lips,
As he sucks on his bottle.
I'm deferred and set aside when my brother arrives,
He breaks all consciousness
As peace and calmness slowly become obsolete.
I try so hard to stay around
After disappointment, my smile is averted to a frown.
Why should I stay here?
I'm no longer needed,
I guess I'll just wander off until my brother's task is completed.
You're probably curious of who i just might be,
For I am SILENCE,
The one whom you cannot see...
With you,each day
in the quiet,pray
For you I wait each day
while you go into the 'fray
On my own alone
I laze the day away
Without you,I doze each day
how long I never say
In the sun I fade
your covers so deftly made
To me,exhausted you return
a faithful friend,so taciturn
With me,you take great delight
later,as you bed down, for the night
Bravely it roams around the details of life independently.
Slowly it seems to emulate memories of those foretold.
Boldly it displays the richness, its knowledge profoundly.
Never disappearing, escaping the season of cold.
Though it may anticipate the darkness of one case,
Jealousy never affects any partition that remains seen.
Tears will never flow as known by a human face.
Though the shrouds of tears are still crystal clean,
Smiles briskly displayed in its aperture, sensed deeply.
Frowns as well glisten bright depicted upon the mind.
Sadness not categorized within its realm, even meekly.
Happiness integrated forever from the orbit we find.
Dependent for life we have worshiped and adored true.
Capturing intensity, we endure its survival, without a clue.
Where am I, so dark, cold, and damp with eerie sound?
I had a place so warm and cozy with others so bright.
All I remember now is the turning, rolling, around.
Wait there is a mirror, I can see with morning light.
Battered and worn my shoulders, what a crime.
Split is the center of my chest area I can see, no way.
I know this place though different at this time.
The basement that I sit right before Christmas day,
Just before I saw my proud owner as she wept.
We were always so close, cleaning me each week.
I felt her touch and feel my arms before she slept.
Covered in a blanket we were so warm and weak.
I can remember the laughter from comedies we saw.
I can remember the tears as we viewed heartache.
I felt both while a romantic comedy had its fall
I do recall the language, after they dropped a shake.
The lavish washing and drying that followed too.
Many a number of lazy days in comfort and bliss,
Now what is my destiny, what will my owners do.
All at once, I was lifted, and then taken; I know I will miss.
I was cared about for quite a spell, what is next.
Now flowing in the wind, upon four-wheel drive,
Suddenly stopping, new eyes to see, I am perplexed.
Picked up high, placed in a new room; I will still survive.
Many children in this place to keep me company here.
My new owners look like they will keep me in cheer.
Whispers in my ear,
tussling of my hair,
and sweeping me
off my feet.
Wrapping a blanket
warmth engulfs my form,
blown gently upon my skin.
shivers down my spine;
bodily senses pricked
top to toe....
as you encircle me,
I move to find comfort.
Willing you to climax,
that I might find satisfaction,
a quieter state of mind,
as the sun shines once more.
I anticipate your return...
Okay, so this is slightly different from me....I wanted to kind of personify the wind here;
making the reader unsure as to whether it were a lover I was thinking of.... Try re-reading
thinking of it the other way, I think it works.....
The crying game
The burdened tears,
That follow hearts
Life and all her
That she counts,
On one hand
With an empathy,
She aptly calls
The wistful wit
That all has yet
As long as we
Unwilling to deny,
That those who seek
Expect a sure reply.
The ox and the moron kidded each other
with crazy questions one lazy afternoon:
"Tell me, oh, witty Moron,
what is an oxymoron?"
"That's easy, owlish Ox,
why, it's a paradox."
The ox shook his head and mooed:
"Guesses are far too many,
but the only answer is irony."
To which the moron gamely retorted:
"I disagree. Using hot flatiron, to me,
that is irony!"
The ox stood his ground, grinning:
"Oh, yeah? And a paradox
is but a solo parade of an ox?"
They laughed till they cried, till a deafening
silence exploded and died,
Meekly, together they asked the afternoon,
"Aren't we the oxymoron?"
Black coal dances against a sparkling demur,
Glistening in the cool night air;
Gliding down from its lair on high,
To dance with the common foul.
Peckish and delightful in it’s bold appearance,
Yet plain and unnoticed by the fair;
It pulls to me in no other way,
As it studies the collection of chaos.
It mimics not, an intelligent brand of wisdom,
Which it possesses unlike the gaggle of miscreants;
Panicked in a breath of air or at the sight of demons -
It understands it’s watchful thoughts.
More profound in its mannerisms and idiosyncrasy,
It cries to be observed in its realistic state;
Akin to a mud-covered beauty queen,
Unbeknownst to the regular man.
His is earthbound delight and glory ,
For he is most beautiful in captured flight.;
Revealing God’s true nature and idea,
Radiating His true image in his dark cloak..
A bullet gets out of a pistol
Flying in the air like a shining crystal
Moving really fast without turning back
Straight ahead without changing its track
Knowing its way without confusion
Living reality but no illusion
BANG! it hits a wall
BANG! it's in the air but then it falls,
But it always does what it has to do
No matter where, no matter why
It knows that reality is just true!
It sits there, not moving
No, never to sway
A symbol of strength
That won’t go away
It may be short, too
But, it still serves a purpose
That we must hold true
A foundation for many
Irrigation yet, still
Decoration for yards
While some roll down some hills
Some may be flat
While others are round
If you drop in the water
They will make a sound
At a time, they were pets
With names given, too
Gibraltar has one
While quarries make due
It describes some great music
That will just never die
For they’re pieces of earth
That can reach to the sky
We worship you and never turn away from you we believe that on your eve dull sin
will wash away what hope begin, we walk in your kingdom where truth was never
allowed in on bended knee you gave us the key to unlock what was dead and
gave us you instead. Blood of our blood drum of our drum in you twisted lord
what of us has your word become temptation is real vanity can heal with in your
church of degradation is the seed of our new nation. My messiah i pray for you to
always remain so we can rejoice your name unclean messiah will forever reign.
Cole Hodson (c)
It can be found
On both sides
Of the heart
As fire burning desire
As fire burning anger
It is alive
As it takes a presence
Controlling the mind
Capturing the will
Driving the attention
It serves as spark
The hottest of nights
The hottest of fights
It is either
Ally or foe
It can be good
Or it can be bad
There you stand in your deepest thoughts
but alert and awake, all senses ready;
thru bleak days and stormy weathers
you keep watch in the night till morning.
Such a sad solitary creature you are,
seemingly lost and oh, so forlorn;
many a life would have been wasted
without you to guide them to shore.
You know exactly when to spot trouble -
sailors you brought home to safety,
weary travelers to hearth and family,
but after it all you’re back on your own.
Yet in the deafening quiet and stillness,
you never once even complained
nor whined about this life’s inequity
for you knew the role you must play.
Your aloneness you willingly accepted
because it’s what makes you complete,
for looking after the lives of others
is a burden you have gladly taken.
Would they ever try to understand you
and give thanks for all that you've done?
or take the time to pat you on the back
and take you like a new-found friend?
What a thankless job you have, brother,
yet there lies the purpose of your being;
maybe that’s precisely the reason why
you’ll not waste your time complaining.
All these words I read
Like a forest fire or a river wild
pure power is in their hands
These words I read
Like a child's laughter or a sparrow flying
the world is in their hands
The words I read
hold in their hands
my ability to be free
The Almighty Tree of ancient origin,
You are rooted in the shrine of Deity
And today in your shrine are these sheep I offer thee
And as for the goats,
They are outside there.
Just beside you is the broody Hen
And over there, a dozen eggs.
Puff a little smoke Oh my Lord,
And let the foe feels the coca.
When my Skull begins to roll,
And the crow upon my soul,
Then the Saints go marching in.
But when the Owl surrounds the throne,
And the Claws begin to roar,
To thee I bow Oh helpless Sky,
And to thee I bow my helpless Sky.
Remember me Oh remember me
When the Birds begin to ring,
And the beads surround thy waist
Like a Giant but faceless Ant.
Plenty Cola-nuts I promise thee
And thy favorite till thy Kingdom come.
Freedom and Justice Oh my dear Lord,
And if possible, Eternal Life.
Victimized, suicide, homicide
verbal abuse everything
what a black child is used to
no father young pistol starter
not for food
the only thing he wants is
the world keeps talking
to em he wishes he was deaf
he's also a gang member
and he can't get out
he's a victim of the ghetto
that's looking for a place
where he can lay his head & settle
but there's no place left
unless he meets the angel of death.
Just Another Victim of the Ghetto