I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.
Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,
I share no love with anyone.
The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.
While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.
There she stands
Centre stage for all to see
Tall and slender
Precariously she balances.
I reach out for her
Draw her to me
My hand skims her body
Slowly reaching her skirt.
Playful fingers find hidden areas
Delighted her legs spring forth
Displaying the very beauty
Of her delicately adorned skirt.
Gaily she dances around
Dizzily twisting and turning
In the brightness of day shading
She gently tends to my needs.
Personal ballerina takes to toes leaping
Merrily bobbing up and down
As emotional to her performance
Clouds cry a thousand tears for her.
Reaching our destination
Slightly shaken, she leans
Watches me quietly drips
Against the wall.
Reminiscent of the day's fulfillment
We acknowledge one another silently
Restful knowing we shall be
One once more.
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.
By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.
A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.
That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.
His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . .
I rather enjoy being played.
She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.
He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.
With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
for the Word Play Contest of Kim Morrison
I am the spirit of satin stardust
and the antiquities of golden memories alive
I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun
and greet you in the misty morning light
I am the steady and rolling drum beat
echoing from the jagged heights above
I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters'
and the freedom birds of love
I rise above the white summer clouds
in lilting songs of grace
and roam with the western tail-winds
to take you home again
I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty
of love hope and faith
I have come to tell
Dedicated To P.D.
For My Children
I have cried so many tears
I have laughted over the years
I have given you my all
I've watched you stumble and seen you fall
and I try'ed to help you through it all
but now your grown and on your on
I hope you remember what you've learn
and teach your children all about heaven
and how much it takes to be a parent
I'm so proud this is true i want you to know
how much i love you
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.
Do you wish to taste
the succulent flower
as she grows, anxious, in the garden?
Morning’s blush arouses
her soft pink petals
and they become warm and moist with dew
A sweet musky scent fills the air
It calls to you
and you cannot resist
Her sultry aroma
holds the promise
of unabashed ecstasy
open and eager
She is ready to be exposed
You brush against her petals
and she quivers
You caress her
for she is inviting
Velvet smooth perfection
She is yours to possess
You reach for her
and take her
You hold her close against you
And for a brief moment
she is all you know
She is a prize,
to be put in her place
You display her
so others will know your worth
Sadly, she sits alone
in her vase,
withered and undesired
Stands, four players.
Quarrels of foul cries, collided.
Facing each nemesis into quadrants, divided.
Individuals motivated by objectives.
Devising plans, careful detectives.
Goal to achieve the highest rank, careful steps--discriminate.
Going by the hit-list, tunnel vision, hindrances must eliminate.
Scoping intensely, measuring opponents, methodical evaluation.
Staying alert, mind assessment, sedulous investigation.
Shrill of the first struck, the red bullet--bounces.
Instant reflex, ricochet the shot, violence--denounces.
The King may bend the rules, charges swift modification.
The Pawns are summoned, critical prosecution.
The Bishop prays for the suspects, classified praises, flattery denunciation.
The Queen cradles a heart, each beat rebounds, battery probation.
I'll love you like the ocean
I'll love you like the sea
I'll caress you like the salty breeze
Does caress those white-capped crests
I'll embrace you as the breaking waves
Embrace the shore with zest
I'll kiss you like the rising sun
Does kiss the sea at dawn
I'll call you like the sea bird sang
With passion, again and again
I'll raise you like the morning mist
That joins the sea to sky
I'll move you like the pale, round moon
Does move the pounding tide
I'll push you like the summer storm
That brings the sea to life
And even as in you I drown
Never did breathless trepidation feel so right
I'll love you like the ocean
I'll love you like the sea
Yamaha impressed me the first time I laid eyes on her glistening blond maple wood, her stylish body details, her long fretted mother-of-pearl inlay; lobed with golden keys. Her voice called to me the first time I held her in my arms. I strummed her six strings slowly in the key of G, then moved softly to D and C. All the while, I searched earnestly for her purity in sound quality and style. She was not the most beautiful in the showroom. But oh yes! She did flatter me with her musical presence. She was beautiful to me! I knew from that moment on she would be mine for eternity.
Within the hour, I took her home to meet the family. She was shy on the journey, not making a sound; perhaps due to this being her first automobile ride or simply wanting to see a world she was now a part of. Yamaha was cased in alligator leather, a brown dressing which was stylish for the day. We were both nervous as we arrived and got out of the car. My strong caressing grip on her handle assured her she wouldn’t fall and it would be alright. She knew it would be alright as I smiled at her.
I opened the door, allowing her to enter first. When in the living room, I called to everyone to come meet the newest member of the family. Dad was taken by her simple yet elegant beauty and style. Mom touched her first and she was most pleased. At that moment I realized the importance of first impressions as Mom marveled at how pretty she was. I sat down in the best chair in the living room while Mom listed to Yamaha talk and I sang a popular country love song. I was pleased with the family acquaintance to Yamaha. It was evident she had become a part of the family.
The first few weeks, I couldn’t keep Yamaha out of my arms. I longed to be with her every minute of the day. In my eye, she made me smile by just gazing upon her. I fumbled with her in those beginning days. She ignored my elementary attempts at refinery and permitted me the time to catch up to her mastery rather than bow down to my level. Like any two lovers, both must reach to the need of the other. Only then is love truly in harmony.
Today, Yamaha is not the young glistening blond I held in my arms some thirty years removed. Her wood has been scared by my love to play her. She has received countless face lifts which cover her tainted mother-of-pearl. Her brown leather case dress stands in need of a seamstress care. But as with all things having been learned through love, we now make beautiful music together. She is my treasure, a light into my soul's well. She amplifies my inner being. As I perform, she is glorified. We have grown old together,and gotten better in time. I still hold her in my arms day by day as this lover has risen to her grace and expectations. She is my treasure for a life time.
The frozen senses
The frozen senses, lives again
With a sunshine of hope
Over it, making each pain
Active again, and the fears door ope.
The twinkling dreams which are
Ready for show, the blushing delights
Reluctant, all the years near and far
And all the lows and heights.
Zeniths of glories, ready
To motivate, the disasters of past
Ready to teach, the victories steady,
Failures fast, all are ready to teach at last.
Since I was a boy I have known of her . I've dreamed of her in my fantasies , I have visioned you in my thoughts.Never knowing why or how or
where she came from, Just she was there .Not ever did I see her face ,but I've known all the while of her beautiful smile. Eyes of an Angel , I can
see all the way to her soul. Hair that flows over her shoulders like a waterfall. . Just a dream in my head , my imagination gone wild , but I have
always known she would be mine one day , A goddess I will cherrish as my Queen and love her with all my heart. Spoil her with gifts and
treasures, what ever she likes .The girl of my dreams I have honestly seen .I have spoken to her and it is exactly as it was suppose to be . She's in
love with me. Oh and she is the prettiest thing, this woman thats always been in my dreams .I was put here to meet her and she to meet me . I have
always been in her dreams ,that's what she's been telling me . A match made in Heaven is what she claims, a love forever , a happiness for life , a
Joy in our hearts that makes our lives worth living. Every since I was a boy I have known her. This woman of my dreams.
Experiencing many different emotions, it is shocking to my soul. Such an intense attraction drawing me in, surprising I am complete as a whole.
Finally full and complete within, a satisfation I've never experienced before. Finally someone able to find the hidden key, the only key that can unlock my safty door.
Gratified in every way possible, he has broken through the barrier I've been hiding behind for years. Complete in life and in love, finally able to let go of all my fears.
With a smile on my face and happiness in my heart, my dream has come true. He is my definition of perfect, from day one, my heart and head just knew.
He leads me through many exciting adventures, packed full of pleasant surprises. Everyday he gives me something new, the intensity level constantly rises.
As the relationship continues, the emotions get more intense. Surprising me every chance he gets, my suspense level balances on the fence.
It hit me like a tons of bricks, how fast I needed what he had to offer. His eyes, his touch, his love and charm, made me a little softer.
Everyday I look forward to where this will lead, but I am excited as a couple what we have become. Enjoying every moment as it's our very first, my heart constantly beats like a drum.
We have been through many trials and tribulations, with every memory I keep on replay. DeShane, you are the one meant for me, in my mind, in my heart and in my soul, is where I want you to stay!
Somebody, please find me;
Here I am hiding.
I am the words,
The poet's handwriting;
Am I dead or dying.
©2014 Honestly JT
Oh, ever flowing pen
I've grown cognizant
You, my only comforting friend,
Taking me adrift
Waves of the forbidden sea
Venturing into territory unmarked,
That offers a soothing melody
Caressing, permeates tranquility
As you rock my restless mind
Into a delusional bliss
Unspoken words that dance
With excitement upon my paper
Anticipation whispers in my ear
And tells me of the splendors yet to be
Awakes feelings to my heart denied
She nestles in the deepest part of me
Anticipation wakes my heart to dream
She graces me with visions that excite
As I await to bathe in passion’s stream
She makes my body quiver with delight
Her promised pleasures do fulfillment find
For she has taught me unashamed to lie
And revel in caresses unconfined
Unfettered now to greater heights to fly
Anticipation, you have gifted me
With sweetest taste of love’s eternity
Eileen Manassian Ghali
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.
Frightened; scared; worrisome, that's how I am..
Not that I am so ****ed up or too bad..
Rather I am caring so much...
Or maybe I have experienced too much..
I built up walls to protect myself...
I restricted myself to rules and regulations..
I defined and structured ways to be in control..
I followed a pattern to avoid dominion...
Maybe because of how I have grew up..
Maybe because of how the persons treated me..
Maybe because of how situations challenge me..
Maybe because of actual experience..
True, I am almost exactly like that..
Few have taken the time and effort to discover me..
Behind those smiles are hidden pains to burst..
Behind those silence are quiet tears waiting to break..
Behind those hugs are yearnings of affection.
Behind those compositions are me: myself...
Yet, I have always been hopeful...
Always holding on...
Not that of pretentions.
Nor to give good impression..
Rather, It is because of that burning faith..
It is because of that selfless love...
Didn't I laugh hard until I'm teary eyed..
Didn't I sing so much until my voice hoarse..
Didn't I eat so much that I burp..
Didn't I given so much that I'm remembered...
Didn't I still love so much that I don't expect any returns..
I lie to protect people I love..
I break rules to get closer to what I want..
I work hard to attain my dreams...
I try to be the happy me to me others happy..
I am living my life the way I know right..
I made mistakes and even failed..
but, I rejoice to acknowledge these didn't stop me..
These didn't lead me to quit..
I rise up..
I stood up..
I am still here..
God, helped me through it all..
A pen rests unreservedly in my lips
Another embraced behind my ear
A ream of paper at peace on my lap
And ink smudges consume my fingers
My perception beyond physicality
Mystical enchanters in chorus
Momentaneous fantasies in flesh
And the artistry streams
In a foxtrot my pen whirls
Across the ballroom of parchment
Virginal ink smears
And the gala commences
Unbeknownst of my environs
Enveloped passionately within my illusions
Adventures given essence
And pressed into a colloquy
Not infamous is my name
Nor are my narrations published
But a dream I live for
And a tale to be told
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.
What Makes A Man
Is it his virtures of lifes love,
Or his moralistic meaning thereof.
For each action of modesty,
Love should be a feeling of honesty.
Yet still he toils in life like a fool,
Using his body as an evil tool.
He motiveates centers around lust,
Using kindness he turns love to dust.
Is a relationship his compassions turn,
Towards the habits he's learned.
His love towards she,
Never turns in a directionb of reality.
But yes he claims to be a man,
Then when love comes he refuses to stand.
Still even though his physique portrays,
Mnaly parts his behavioral love say's...
Take everything out of me,
& on the days i’m not wanted,
I am left emptied
all of the way out.
A pleasant ‘medicine’ to show others just how good I make you feel, & how good I taste.
I’d be lying to say that hearing those words doesn’t make me spring right back up even in a setting as disintegrating as this.
I’m still here, ready to break off a piece of plastic from my narrow body for you.
It is you after all. I’d do it if I had too.
But, you confuse me.
You keep my head lifted & it keeps you entertained.
I like it, kind of. It’s like we’re getting to know each other’s touch, and see similar smiles to those of when we first met.
This makes it easier not to think too much about how I’m handled.
You’ve never treated me this way.
I’ve gotten my big head stuck before by trying to fill myself up with much more than you needed,
but this feeling of loneliness by you is unfamiliar.
I love you, I say. I love you, I show.
You love me, you say. You love me, I believe.
I hate the feeling of feeling cheap. You told me that I was especially manufactured for someone of your taste, & I believe every word of that.
Stop pressing my head down into my stomach, please.
I’m starting to get sick of not seeing everything that kept me full of your every desire to see me smile.
I could never be naive enough to say that I can fulfill who you are,
because I have a purpose that involves much more than
going up and down, emptying my insides with temporary dissolving gestures.
But I know I can share with you
the essence of being the someone who treats you as good as the planets you can’t see.
So align me inside the atmosphere of your care, & I’ll pick you up before you can say, “deSpenser”
THERE IS A TIME WHEN THE TREES SANG THEIR OWN MELODY THE FLOWERS SPRAY THEIR OWN FRAGRANCE.
THE MOON AND THE STARS ARE IN HARMONY WITH ONE ANOTHER THE SUN KISSES THE DAYLIGHT.
OH HOW SWEET IT IS BUT NOW THE THUNDERSTORM COMES LIKE A RUSH THROUGH YOUR VEINS.
SOMETHING LIKE A FIRE IN DISGUISE THE THUNDER IS KNOCKIN AND THE RAIN IS ROCKIN.
THEN THE CLOUDS GATHER TOGETHER TO LET OUT SOME STEAM IT SEEMS AS IF IT IS ONLY A DREAM.
NOW THE SUN CRACKS THROUGH THE SKY TO LET US KNOW THAT THE STORM HAS PASSED ON.
THE AFTER SCENT IS SO SWEET TO MY NOSE LIKE A ROSE.
OH HOW PRECIOUS IT IS TO ME.
I am hunger for his passion therefore for him to hug and kiss me. I will reciprocate. A
yearning desire to embrace and kiss him. A torch with burning passion that will
never be extinguished until he loves me unconditionally, then make passionate love
Dear Soap Bubble,
in an air-light reflection
of the ephemeral beauty
of this world
rumbling inside the anima
of a tiny simple
I shall enjoy thy sight
Shall I live in fear
for you not to burst
Shall I be the wind
to blow tenderly
directing thy path
Thy shelter shall I be
I surrender myself to thee
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
This feeling buried under my skin when love hits me makes me itch like a fein for
dope I dont know how to explain the things that love will have you doing
somethings become to deep so I ask my self how deep is love some times it can
have you on a cloud like your floating so easy to bring you down like walls in a
building being demolished so what can love bring you in this world but pain mistrust
jealousy and hate but they say love is like chocolate sweet rich good satisfying or
could it be me as I watch those in love hold hands dancing to the tunes that loving
someone brings their soul are satisfied their smiles reveal love their laughs reveal
lust so I again ask myself is it me maybe those who have tried to love me I have
broken them to the point that love didnt matter anymore am I that blind that I cant
see love in front of me tyrone said loving me was harder than predicting the
weather laughing as I dug deeper into his soul eating his love feeding my lust with
his feelings so how deep is love deeper then I have been digging detroying lives as
I moved on to the next playing as I loved to love those who were loving me they
were blind to see the vixen as she came to seek and detroy love so how deep is
love I use to believe love was a gift but to love does not mean love I AM the VIXEN
OF LOVE I AM the VIXEN OF LUST I love to lust AND LUST LOVES TO LOVE ME WE ARE
ONE thats how deep my love goes
Alcoholic,rageaholic,another drug addiction consumed by depression,Its just a
fraction of what this generation faces these days;in denial or torn in the middle of
silence or confession.Confusion,rebellion,anger and neglect,A huge percentage of
the worlds youth is another lost soul held hostage by self rightousness and there
salvation it effects.Abandonment,fear,emptiness,trapped and alone;Enemies to self-
destruct ones life is what so many are known to be in fact a walking bag of
bones.From neglect brings emptiness;Emptiness results in feeling alone,A heart and
soul running on the edge of confusion which in many ways can go wrong.Another
statistic on the news again,I pray for them to all find Jesus,Hes our Savior,our
God,the beginning and the end. By Tina Myers 11/06
the memorys youll eventually forget,
the people you knew,
gone in a cloud of shattered dreams,
past loves turn into hatred,
these are things that are a result of our so called,
in the dark clouds of our minds a solum strand of light,
blooms forth changing your perspective,
evan for just a moment
the birth of children,
things you may life without,
but you have always wished to have,
created in them,
for with all darkness there must be light and in all joy,
there must be sadness.
Dropped to my knees
I’d fled their cell
of murmured spite
Among the trees
From dizzying hights
The soft wind kissed
Tears off of my cheeks
Made puppets of leaves
On stages of mist
And cloudy peaks
I stole back my heart from thieves
To you wide windy world
My heart belongs
None could my skin so gently trace
Nor sing such sweet songs,
As you, and you so softly me enfurled
Yet where are you for my embrace?
How do I capture the man of man of my dreams. When I see him and he delights
me, I will talk to him. If he make my heart please. I will club him over the head and
rendering him half dead. Thus, I will take him in my bed and when he awoke, he will
not protest because he will be too week to leave; consequently, surrender is right
to wed me by a minister and a witness to prove our joint being. And when, he is fully
aware, he won't resist. He will leave to get his belongings and move in with me; in
this way, we become one - the man of dreams and me.
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
They were invincible
whenever they’re onstage:
piano on the lead
as his accompaniment.
They toured the cities,
the parks as well;
soft harmonies they played
that all, including men
went envying them—
violin had felt betrayal
from her own bow.
It snapped her strings;
made it sever—
leaving piano out of tune.
Despite his downfall,
piano persisted performing
on stage, but alone—
playing his wife’s
I Saw Trust Clearly
She Was Tall And Beautiful
She Moved Quick And Swift
But Made Beautiful Movement
I Saw Her Sky Blue Eyes
And Heard Her Blanket Soft
And I Felt The Cod Wind Chills
She Sends Down My Back That
Will Affect Me Forever<3
Like a portrait already painted but needing a little more color
I am not done and I can not go on.
Two roads and I have taken the one less traveled upon.
It has been discarded but it has made all the difference.
The path is covered with oversized bushes and thorn stems.
You can not see all the trail for it has grown scattered grass.
The other way was much clearer but its simplicity scared me.
Life is not unadorned. Life is not uncomplicated. Life is imbalanced.
Like a perfectly bitten apple thrown onto a concrete ground in front of a fire hydrant
I am not hesitant to fight for work.
My legacy has not been satisfied, my labor bears incomplete.
Like a portrait already painted but needing a little more color
I am not done and I can not go on.
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!
It used to be that when I closed my eyes
Dandelion wishes of youth would tickle my mind.
Wishes of forever that I never truly grasped....
A dream of true love I never honestly trusted....
A completion of self I never truly felt:
~ Until you.
And now when I close my eyes, it’s you that I see...
(My dream realized)
And my senses reel from the heat of your touch
That lingers still - even after you’ve gone....
Instinctively I breathe you in (longingly)
Wanting to taste you:
Savoring the memory of your caress on my lips
Teasing my need for more:
Fanning the flame of desire that never fades.
And I smell you (forever found in your scent)....
And I feel you (true love found in your embrace)....
And I hear the whisper of your voice
~ My axis that guides me home.
And in my craving to touch you one more time
I am completed by the sensation of your kiss
~ Pouring life into my soul.
AFTER LIFE: (HOPE COMES)
AFTER ALL OF YOUR RECKLESS LIFE CHOICES,
THE ONLY TRUE ARCHILLES HEAL IS ONESELF.
REGRET NOT YOUR PATH IN LIFE,
BUT ONLY THE IGNORANT REACTIONS.
AFTER OVER COMING QUITE HARSH CONDITIONS
OF YOUR EARTHS ELEMENTS
THE ONLY THING YOU SHOULD PONDER IS THE TOTAL
IGNORANCE OF YOUR DEAF EARS KEEPING
YOU FROM SEEING THE WHOLE PICTURE.
BLINDING YOU FROM ALL
THE UNSPOKEN WORDS OF YOUR LIFE,
RELATIONSHIPS THAT SUFFERED,
YOUR BROKEN HEARTS EMOTIONS RUNNING WILDLY.
OUR BATTLE STRICKENED WOUNDS TRYING TO HEAL;
NEEDING OUR BANKRUPED SOULS SAVED
FROM ALL THE CHAOTIC SORROWS SUFFOCATING US DAILY.
OUR OUR HOMELANDS
FEARS ESCAPING HOLD OF US
MOMENTS IN TIME LOST TRAGICLY.
BE ALL THAT YOU ARE FROM WITHIN,
SIMLIFY EVERYTHING. BEING HONEST WITH YOURSELF,
ABOUT THE TRUTH OF YOUR LIFE.
IT IS EXTREMELY HARSH, AND HARD PAINFUL WORK,
BUT AT LEAST YOU'LL HAVE THE KNOWLEDGE OF
KNOWING THAT EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. Y
YOU'LL UNLOCK THE POWER FROM WITHIN
YOU'LL GROW IN STRENGTH, CONFIDENCE.
YOU'LL SET YOURSELF FREE AND APART OF THIS WORLD
AND THE HUMAN CONDITION.
YOU'LL GROW AND OPEN YOUR MIND TO BEING KINDER,
TO OTHERS, GOING THE EXTRA MILE.
BELIEVE IN THE TRUTH AND STOP
ALLOWING THE LIES FROM OUR MEDIA AND GOVERNMENT
WITH THEIR ILLUSIONS OF WHAT OUR REALITY TRULY IS.
HOW CAN ONE CHOOSE THIS YOU ASK? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ACCEPT JESUS INTO YOUR HEART AND KNOW THAT HE DIED FOR YOUR SINS.
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
HE PAID MY DEBT
WHEN I FOUND THAT OUT I BEGIN TO WEPT
THE DEVIL HAD ME CRAVING
IN BONDAGE AND MISERABLE SLAVING
I WENT THROUGH A LOT OF PAIN
AND ASK THE LORD PLEASE LET IT RAIN
THE LORD TOLD ME, HE PAID THE COST FOR EARTH AGONY
AND VALUE THE LIFE OF HUMANITY
EVEN WITH ALL THE TEARS MY GOD HAD TAKEN THE HUMILITY
WITH ALL ME SINNING EVEN TO SPAT ON HIS FACE
BUT YET HE OPEN IS ARM AN STILL EARN FOR MY EMBRACE
HE PAID MY DEBT THROUGH HIS AMAZING GRACE
OH LORD I CRIED AND REPENT IT IS YOURS I PLEA
YOUR MERCY I SEE IS ALL FROM THEE
YOUR EVERLASTING BREATH YOU BREATH IN ME
WRITTEN BY STANLEY JEAN JACQUES
Felt as if I were a stranger amongst family.
A mere shadow puppet on the wall.
The whispers that enraged me deeply.
From all the distasteful, shameful,
ungrateful words that had been spoken.
Utter silence drifting away,
the darkness starts to reign.
Sincerity's all so superficial beauty shines brightly,
blinding us from the true light burning within.
Rebelliously our selfish motives,
and lustful attitudes,
ruthlessly are felt thru out the land.
Emotionless thoughts,a lack of wisdom,
Aimlessly wandering about,
consuming everything in it's path.
Leaving "heart aches" as distraactions,
felt dining the war within the chains of bondage.
Keeping us slaves of death.
Our "seeds of faith" never failing,
surrendering to our human nature.
Repenting with our bankrupted souls.
His grace,given with forgiveness
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!
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.
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
you are the garden of my life...your endless glow has enchanted kings and
queens from near,far, and wide.They would travel millions of miles, just to
behold your beauty...no matter how much they are willing to offer me for my
garden, i would decline!...My garden in my heart is worth more than all of the
world's silver and gold, my garden is most precious to me!.
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
Silk sheets for romance.
silk sheets filled with sinful bliss.
The barbaric pleasure the sheets painfully witness.
Eyes of sorrow for the pain and strife their master knowingly creates.
Confused by the way the victim screams joyous.
Showing only a smile on her face.
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
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.
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...
I refuse to be another black victim.
I will be great i care not to be less.
I refuse to ware a bar code across my chest.
I refuse to let a whit tee on a throwback jars in press me.
I hate been how many kids do you have when a man approaches me.
I want to flip from urban to corpate measures.
I want to gain the knowledge of the earth not just for my own measures.
I want to rip Christ to the fullest with no regent.
My only regent is the stigma that the blacks in past have set,
Like going to jail,bragging bot bail, cursing in church,
Mainly the with in the ministers of our church.
I refuse to let my people be labeled as tempery.
Iplanting a seed not just for the moment but one thats lengdeary .
As for satstics my mother broke the mood.
And i feel that its my job as
the next generation to countiue in it
LIKE I SAID BEFORE I WILL NOT BE
The tide calls
The tide falls
The tide threatens
To swallow us all
The moon swells
A tolling bell
The midnight yell
The waves swirl
Spray, they hurl
Upon the rocks
Upon the girl
She sits there, night
After night, after fright
What happen might
She twirls her hair
So golden, fair
Around a finger
Like the ring she'll wear
She doesn't love
Marriage on a whim
Her worst mistake
From her life she can't trim
The cold waters invite
Its black eddy delights
As she falls beneath its crest
And sinks with all her might
Think things all the way through
Were we Jesus then?
Jesus, were we. . . .
The emphatic embrace
of our sadomasochistic quality,
a hedonistic humanity.
please. . .
I beg for equality.
For there is no sin
when we've been
Forgive me then. . .
please. . .
In an effervescent picture I see you and me
I'm coloring in the emotions that because of
you have come to my mind
You inspire the best in me and when we touch
You bring forth desire, a desire to hold
you tighter, to be pieced together so tight
With my acceptance of you inside
Slow and easy, side to side, as the fire increases
the depth and speed and desire of knowing that I
can experience this as a part of love
And as the climax comes to an end, I can still
be held in your loving arms and every day
see you smile and to once again create
a new picture and pursue to satisfy that same desire
If fond reminders seek a passion void
Then leave without a voice of "I love you"
Make him feel that you are still annoyed
And lead him to this place without a view.
That this allure has possibly been used
It far outstretches things beyond his reach,
He doesn't mean to show what seems abused
But manfully designed he's lost for speech.
Yet wait, the full intent of passion fills
What seeing less of you has seemed to be
He wants to understand you, with these skills
That taught him, most of all, 'It's not just me'.
While closer you've become while there are two
Converse in turn, just listening content
Creating words with meaning, ones that woo,
You back again without the need for vent.
And gradually the sway of tides embrace
Can sunsets on horizon sleep in peace,
'Love', is such a word that shows the face
With smiles that no frustration can release.
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
I fell in love last nite
I let my inhibitions go
I put pen to paper
and I just wrote
You see the paper
is my perfect mate
just as much as
a blinking cursor
awaiting the first word
That blank sheet
that is me
I am a palate
waiting to be painted
I love how I can relate
So carefully he caresses
my deepest emotions out of me
So patiently he listens to my side
I couldn't imagine life without him
I could spend all nite just looking into his eyes
One night with him and I give birth to miracles
I fell in love last nite
with this paper and pen
I came to him sad and lonley
He wiped my tears away
Told me not to be afraid
I never knew how deeply a pen and paper
could affect me
Until I wrote something down
using my lovers amazing skills
and released all the pain
onto my pen and papers shoulders
In the New Testament we see that Paul sent a recommendation
with instructions to Timothy on how to preserve his salvation
Paul had written epistles to many of the churches
letters full of spirituality and on how to worship
he said the Gospel, the Good News will always be the main point
the words for one to live by so that to them God may anoint
you need to be girded up in order to preserve your faith
and watch out for those false teachers
and make believers who are always lying in wait
Paul wrote this letter of encouragement, support and concern
It was a reminder for Timothy to utilize all the knowledge that he'd learn
for Timothy was a destined disciple, a child of God from the start
he had an inherited belief that was entrenched in his heart
so how does anyone measure true faith?
do you use a system of scales and weights?
faith is a belief based solely on your actions
faith is the whole of you and not just a fraction
faith is more than just a feeling
faith is the state of just believing
God gave you a unique skill, a special talent, He gave you a gift
It was a show of grace so use it to help others spirits to be lift
God gave you power and a great strength
to go the distance, to go the entire length
depend on the Lord to move and guide you
rely on His promises for they are sure and true
let go and let God and with your gift be stirred up
let the Holy Spirit continue to refill your cup
so watch out for those Tates and others like them in the church
be aware of the spirit of negativity that around them lurks
Old Man Tate is just one big know-it-all
Mother Hesitate is always trying to stop and stall
Sister Agitate is always trying to stir up some mess
Brother Irritate always irksome and no church business can progress
Deacon Vegetate sitting in the pew always in the same spot
Cousin Imitate always wanting to copy what everyone else has got
Trustee Potentate thinks he's the big man on the church scene
but the Choir Director Devastate, that's one member who's just plain mean
but Facilitate is the only member in the Tate clan
who could be a blessing to a spirit-filled man
so let the Holy Spirit call to your remembrance all that you've learned
you have a gift and a belief system and the spirit to discern
God gave you power, love and a sound mind for a reason
just don't worry about the Tate clan for they will get theirs in due season
Here's a copy of your poem so you can simply paste it into the Poets' Workshop
Love doesn't build up your expectations to only let you down.
Love doesn't live to tell you a lie.
Love doesn't hurt the heart it's in.
Love characterizes the person within.
Love is a combination of you and me.
Love doesn't justify wrong actions we make,
But love simplifies the losses we take.
Love has so many definitions that we don't understand,
That we take if for granted instead of in God's hand.
So next time you love, love for the right reason,
For when love comes again you won't miss the season.
What makes me a woman, I cook , I clean. beyond all means. It is a gift of what
other women dream. I work, I think, I use my brains, No one can say that i'm
insane. I may be young, But above all i'm not dumb. I am strong and fine, And
definitely have peace of mind. When i look at myself, I see a beautiful young
woman. Trying to succeed not worrying about race, Color, Or creed. I am my own
woman, I do my own deeds, I help others out when they are in need. It is the
intelligence that i have, The hard work that i do, The goals i plan to accomplish
that makes me strong and true. I am a woman no matter what you may say. I am
here for a purpose and that is to work, Fight, And pray.
Written By: Aisha Tuere' Brown