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Personification Time Poems | Personification Poems About Time

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Dragging his feet with exhaustion, 
On the unending path of time,
The wise old year, the gates of 
Oblivion approaches,
His face glowing
His heart pounding for joy
His soul in rapture
In a few moments, able will he be,
The heavy load of humanity’s predicaments 
The eager shoulders, of the ignorant New Year,
To, finally, lay!

© Demetrios Trifiatis
   29 DECEMBER 2014

HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone! 

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Seven Children

With shining eyes, the prettiest advances leading all the rest. She skips with glee beneath blue skies, the prettiest with shining eyes. The second, with a warming smile, comes dressed in lace, and all the while she lithely romps beneath the sun with warming smile, the second one. And woebegone, the daughter third, walks, scowling, speaking not a word. She trudges slowly on and on - the daughter third and woebegone. Now comes along a steadfast son whose sauntering seems never done. He perseveres though winds be strong. A steadfast son now comes along. The second boy along the trail has charity, which does not fail. He renders aid and brings sweet joy along the trail, the second boy. Another son, now onward pressed, endures although fatigued and stressed. He's labored much and cannot run, now onward pressed, another son. At course's end, a daughter fair who rests - lets down her golden hair. Most cheerful, tender, gracious friend, the daughter at the course's end. (Please click on "About Poem" to see the fortune-telling nursery rhyme this is based on.) For Francine Roberts' children in rhyme Poetry Contest

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Come Let Me Rock You Gently

Come let me rock you gently
and as we softly sway
I'll share with you a story
and rock your cares away.

In the years that I have known
there has been much I've seen
the big "to do's" the nothing days
and all those in between.

To all I've offered comfort
and a quiet place to rest
I've rocked my share of little ones
(oh, how I love them best!).

A very tender memory
of all those that I hold
is one of love and caring
that now is growing old.

A Grandma and a little girl
placed firmly on her knee
would for hours sit and play
and we would rock so free!

The laughter in their voices
(to which I'd add a creak!)
would fill my day with pleasure
and with pure joy I'd squeak!

Oh how I loved the songs they sang
and the games they played
and all the Bible stories told
when we were all so staid.

How glad I was to share it all
we were a happy set
this is my sweetest memory
(the best one I've had yet!).

Now as our time is winding down
(it's nearly at an end!)
I bid you please come back and sit
when you have time to spend.

Together we will gently sway
and stories will unfold
and I will rock your cares away
as each new one is told.

Inspired by Deborah Guzzis' The Chairs Tale contest

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Dark Shadows

The night approaches me again and you're not here still with me 
And here under my breath I call your name and I watch your loving face 
And there among the dark shadows  you'll come back  again the same  
I hear your haunting tune and I know that you'll be waitin'  this time for me. 

Release me from all this pain I'm sufferin "Come to me"and just take my hand 
Hold me in your arms so tight and please never ever let me again go 
Together we'll dream of that other time and fly away to that  magical time band 
There is no other place like this in heaven or earth where our love can only but glow. 

Join me here tonight,hear my voice into the night and just be mine for all time 
Come to me right now and give me all your love before the night is carried away 
Let me kiss your lips,caress and love you all night til we both see a brand-new day 
Disperse all the dark shadows in which I exist,come to me and be mine for all times.

Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 

July 18, 2010 

Author Notes: 

This poem amongt many others that I'd written in my life,had been inspired by 
my very favorite and most beloved vampire character of all time, 
"Barnabas Collins" from the most popular daytime soap opera series ever 
produced on T.V. in my opinion, "Dark Shadows." This whole DVD collection is most 
And Jonathan Frid is so awesome! 

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You and she

I asked what’s worse than death, You say people that help you survive. You say: “ I don’t feel anything anymore.” You make every one out to be your enemy, But your enemy itself is you! You say that none of us care, When it’s you that don’t care. You say that none of us love you, When it’s you that doesn’t love yourself. You say you have a very empty feeling, When you are the only one that can fill it. You say we broke you down emotionally, When it was you, yourself who did it, By not talking about the things that bothered you. You say: “ I can’t go on.” When you know you can, with help, make it. You feel sorry for yourself, When you should feel sorry for those who love you. You only think of yourself and you don’t See the suffer in the eyes of other. To me she died a few days ago. To me you are a total stranger. My heart is struck with sorrow For the monster she become destroyed Everything good that’s left. To me you are a nobody, Because she would never have done What sorrow you did. To me you don’t exist, For she would never destroy What’s good in life. If only she could be here, She would clean up the destruction You caused. If she was here She would have thought of us and never Cause so much sorrow. You know time choose you, You can not choose time. For time and place and how Is special itself. Why put yourself through so much, Pain, when it is not your time to go. Where is home: heaven, earth or hell, How would you know? You sound and act so pathetic, She would never have done that. Why should I feel sorry for you. It is only you, you care about. I’ll rather weep for the person you hide Just to become a self-conscious monster When it’s only you that can stop.

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Customer Service...I'm Still waiting

I'm still waiting
How much time has elapsed
Think I'll read
While I'm waiting
I just read a chapter

I do believe my call is being answered
No, a voice on a machine echoes
"Your call will be taken in the order in which it was received"

What number caller was I
Probably the 1000th caller
I'll touch up my manicure
While I'm waiting

I'm still waiting
I smudged my polish on one nail
Wonder If I have time to fix it
Before they break their necks to take my call

They must be averaging one call every ten minutes
I'll continue reading

Another chapter done
I'm still waiting

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The Mailbox

He remembers when his many bolts
weren't ringed in rust,
and his seams weren't blackened
with years of grime and dust.

The post upon which he sat
was gray and weathered now,
and had become just slightly
west of plumb somehow.

The screw that held his little flag
had long ago come loose,
chipped and faded, no longer red,
it was of little use.

The driveway that he guarded
was dirt and deeply sloped,
and halfway down it gently curved
around a massive oak.

Now some might think that he'd be bored,
stuck there night and day,
but he found entertainment
in the things that came his way.

He pondered long and hard on things
before making up his mind,
there was no hurry, he reasoned,
when all you have is time.

He carefully watched a nest of ants
both day and night for weeks,
before he reached the conclusion
that ants must never sleep.

He marveled at the seasons
and loved both sun and snow,
but sometimes he felt beaten down
when the wind-whipped rain would blow.

He loved the feel of bird feet
when they used him as a perch,
and when a truck would rumble by
he'd feel his spirit lurch.

He delighted in the field mice,
and wept with the mourning doves,
was suspicious of the furry raccoons,
with their masks and leather gloves.

Though days and months and years went by,
and he was oft ignored,
his life of perfect stillness
was itself a rich reward.

So as we hurtle past him,
with our tires spitting rocks,
perhaps we could learn something
from our stoic old mailbox.

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	The unwritten lyrics swarm in my head like a hornets nest, the studio is silent. The microphone taunts me in it's little square box, but it waits for a time when we can talk in private. 

	I hear the instrumental get louder from the twist of a knob. The song wrote its self as my head starts to bob. I cram into the booth and close the door with confidence. That I will come out feeling new and get praised with compliments. 
	I get loud with excitement and shake hands with my buddies. Hope that I can continue this hobby, but we see no money. 

	I made music for years not thinking what my future entailed. All my friends will understand when its time to set sail. 
	We have low quality equipment and no food for our stomachs. We grow into men and instead of friends, we are now distant cousins.

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Treasure of My Heart

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.

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Jeannette and her sixteen cats

Familiar avenue, follies in the midst abandoning themselves to the fresh-air moon,
lured by old hallway allies into the bedroom bay, where the garden will still be, with a 
season change.

The laundry turns, 
the night dries.

They harass and blame those who follow far behind, await a signal from inside to
let 'em starve, ignore as they toe past the prow of the porch, past the tattered 
drapes, tilting their tails;

old memory prints on window panes, that, at first glance, still have some taste 
evaporate from a distance.

The prowlers aren't afraid to be strays, and they empty into the streets with
ashtrays, living their own way, solely opportunistic,
without doubt;
they usually pay for it in the end, if they ever get a glimpse.    

And inside was a lifetime ago, as was her childhood, still stirring outside, roadside 
across Fifth Street, underneath anything, to fall slowly, and awake sleepless, 
remembering sounds of talking news.

* * * * *

At first light any morning, we blew smoke in the corners, a breath across the 
covered picture frames wrapped in winter quilts of old coats that filled the front room,
memory replaced with swamped cardboard and wet newspapers 
from the guest bedroom, and a mattress of molded mothballs. 

Those last few nights, her friends came to visit but they hand’t returned;
the well-wisher and rubber neck gave more than some passerby;

left and chose not to write, ditched fifty miles east, right at the bend, on the back 
fork of a highway river without a number.

© 2013 Wesley T Cutlip

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Ode to Rita and Maddie

Wade through the lake’s water so shallow, A woman & a man hands entwined like a gallow. Wade did she, Wade did he. Above their necks the furious waters rose, Trod they together steps softly with no morose, Spellbound they moved without a care, Deeper and deeper where no one would dare. Trod they further unto the middle they reached, Realized she now an early vow she had breached, No further she could wade, But bitter memories afar refrained they to fade. Drifting by now so weak was she, So clasped them eyelids so all she could see was he, A time came on when a boat roared by, A wave it created ,it washed her eyes. The heady din grown a was peaking, Alas! Her dream was at an end that she was seeking. The fingered band, beacon it began, A time had come her life to regain. Realized, she that moments spent in love, Will fly away now like the dove. Struck her like a bolt to her love away, Will he take me home today? Guessed she by now that the time was over for her space, And on the pathway her love left behind in a cold place. A now thinks she that dwells in another dimension, Poor man left aghast to brood and fate too cruel to mention. Ghastly her act ,in all this land had never been, People shun now the disheartened lover whenever he be rarely seen. Stares does he strangely at the door, For he believes that the path will bring her once more…

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Why Should I

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

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The Face

The rain falls silently
Against the blackness of the cottage window pane
The raindrops swirl in the air, being lifted and pulled
By the unknown forces of the breezy wind
The face in the window spends its time looking in
On other peoples lives
Looking out into the rain
The face in the window
Is thought of as a haunting of someone’s past
Never thought of as a guard
And never thought of as rational  
Its snowy, white eyes
Look into the personalities
Of little girls playing with dolls
In the 1980’s of The Cottage
Of Men and Woman loving and hating
In later times
The face in the window
Always wonders why they run away
After spending only a night or a day
In its precious little cottage
In its strange little forest
In its strange little world

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One Life Story

All my life is

is a story.

And I get to tell it.

What more grace could one be blessed with?


Days when life doesn't suck feel different than days when it does (do do do do-di-do do)... dontcha know?

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Life All At Once

Too young to remember , remembering is all I can do , stories told , may different , not never knowing the truth , a scar for life , not knowing the story behind it all , feeling like a leap and a frog , alone always and forever , standing strong on my own tow feet with no support , about this time I still have tears in my eyes, hurting and weeping from all the pain thats inside, feeling abandoned at a young age, my heart filled with hurt and emotion , like a boat on a ocean , screams and fights , something that I didn't like , it never excites me , it just makes me wanna go far way , running way all the time was getting old and leaving me out in the cold with no place to go , house to house , different rules , different place , different race and different pace. Ive been through hell and back again. 7:00 , lying on the floor , stomach growling , tears falling , left alone , hurting inside , just about to cry , flooding my face , with a salty taste , forgetting my race , forgetting my struggles , going blank with no trace , comes to comfort me , I pull away , with a lot of force , not wanting to be loved by someone who hurts me the most , running away thinking its a better place more hurt occurs , not giving no one a chance , to dance in my present , but finally I give in to something special to me , he who sees the best in me , he who takes me for myself , he who loves me more than ill ever know, he that stunts but deep down he's feelings truly shows , he that I love with all my heart , he that I don't want to leave , he is something like my everything , he is so much like me , he you wouldn't understand , he is my man , I could keep going on and on forever but Ill just end it here this time....

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Drawn in Harmony

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.

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Lady Luck

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

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A New Kingdom


Doe's things' seem strange
Not what they used to be
This is for the first time
The first time in History
Doe's things' seem slow
While a bestselling economy
   Just doe's not grow'
Everything is a shroud
         In mystery...
And everyone must know...
         It is time
  It is time one may say
For a One World Government
        To save the day'
But, their is one thing
That I would like to say
      And that is that
By the Blood of Jesus
Things' wouldn't be this way
What We really don't need
    Is a new government
        What we do need
Is a New Covenant'
     A Covenant'
         With ' GOD '
      Did anyone think
            Of the way
       That it should be
To dwell in the House of the Lord
            For all Eternity...
To be with the Prince of King'
    To be with the Almighty
With-in the Kingdom of ' GOD '
Where He has already prepared
      A place for you and me...

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Death of 2008

The dying year old, bent and grey of hair
with a heart that grew weak and a soul that ached
lay in a hospital bed as the minutes ticked away

He knew his time was near as he thought back
at his lovely birth in the cold of a January morning
and how he marvelled at life all around

Young and vibrant he embraced the season
sending cupid out to break February hearts
watching the March snow disappear

Smiling at April rains and May blossoms
kissing the first red rose of June that climbed to the sun
joining in the fireworks and picnics of July

Gazing down on the yellow sunflowers of August
and wishing for summer to last forever
feeling so melancholy when September appeared

Crying with the changing leaves of October
as he knew his reign was slowly dying
he pulled a heavy coat over aging shoulders

In the dampness of a dreary November 
he longed for the first snow of December
and the smiles of the children's faces

Now as his time slowly runs down
he hears the lusty cry of the baby 2009
and on the last chime of twelve

he pulls the sheet up over his face
and slips away peacefully 
into the book of time past..

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Barnabas Collins

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 aka ladydp2000 copyright@2010 July 22, 2010

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Intersection of Justice and Mercy


is not the sound:

of a banging gavel,

as the result of a man's decision.

It is found in the laughter of orphans,

or in the quiet tears of a widow's distress.

Justice, does not announce its presence noisily,

nor does it appeal to mere reason or fleeting thought.

It is in the silence of a still moment that it rushes in.

A flood of rescue, a team of unsung heroes, without banners.

In the simple embrace of a father to the orphaned, or mother to the widow.

There it is found in the least likely of places, the free offering of smiles.

An undeserved torrent of kindness that drowns out history's pain,

giving a new and beautiful fragrance to the debris left by injustice.

Tears lose their sting, they become source of life watering souls,

satisfaction is no longer measured by simple shelters, or full

bellies, and clothed bodies; this is not true contentment.

Joy ignited by the embers of love, fueling life.

Purpose, not dependent on fiscal wealth,

a life becomes a raging wildfire,

made visibly tangible,


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"My dear, I think you are shrinking!"

No, you just spend too much time drinking…

"No, I pass the time by thinking!"

Then it's just in your head…

"You are already dead! It's odd talking to a living corpse…"

I breathe your air! I walk your ground! I speak your words!

"Do you drink my sustenance, eat my food, Because, your words taste like repentance!"

I beg to differ!

"I want to see you beg on your knees!"

I want an apology, please!


Could a corpse do this?

"You have a weak punch."


"You have a mediocre kick, just look how you hunch!"

Why don't you fight?

"I don't take candy from children."

That's not funny, it's not! I'm here! I'm in your sight!

"No,  you've already left"

Come again?

"Give it back. You have till the count of ten!"

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Dear Soap Bubble,

bright focus
in an air-light reflection
of the ephemeral beauty
of this world

diaphanous soul 
in despair


Emotional universum
rumbling inside the anima
of a tiny simple
passionate creature

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

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Vain of metal ore that smiled 
It is by you am steered  
    Guiding my principle in direction 
    You shine like magnetized
    Iron ore 
    I lithe toward you as 
    You called

    We lissome to our destination
    With your eye in dimension
    I shall not be sorry when it’s over
    Cos it ways is determination
    Thou Icy wing “lay us pass”
    To see they treasure 
     Remove thy odds from our
     My sinus seep to sea, cos of
     Sinking to shore
     Sire your strength steered
      My fate to shore
      Wh’n I hold your face, I am 
      Cos, hope, fate, destiny is 
      By measure
      My accelerando is powered 
      By force
      Thou the tides are high
      The treasure must be found
      When you bid me, I will 
      Cos life journey is unstandadize

This poem is written in the night in 
my little room when watching The 
stars, Lodestar is a bigger, it shines 
very well and in those. Days when 
voyage in the see was not of to day 
every body looked of for lodestar 
that gives direction to sailors. It is a 
poem about our cause of journey in 
life some of the time when we 
succeed we give our thanks to our 
guidance angel or lucky star it is this 
star, angel an greeting begging to 
guide our life affair in this world. 
Life problem are so many that we 
some time need this angel and lucky 
star. So it is easier when traveling 
with a guide, this makes it (life) not 
so difficult.

1.	They is a force that direct our 
affairs in this world existence.
2.	We should always pray for our 
affairs to before in good hands to 
enables us achieve our aim.
3.	This world is difficult to go 
through, it like our sailing in the sea 
of life.
4.	The sea of life needs a eye that 
will guide us in this affairs.
5.	We should always thank, greet 
our lucky star or angel.

Ameka, Ezza South L.G.A Ebonyi 
State Nigeria where am doing my 

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Step by Step

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

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It's a Great Day

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

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A Special Place

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!

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When Angels Cry

The rain pours down wrecking the day you had planned, soaking through your firewood. Time 
and energy spent and wasted with this fall of water from the skies, looking up and imagine the 
angels cry. The rain washes and cleans away the filth and grim, but in the moment it seems to 
be only lost time; the hurt and pain that comes out with the rain, it goes on for days and seems 
it will never go away. You ever try to light a camp fire with wet wood? You keep trying for awhile 
hoping to have the wood catch and reward you with a warm fire, but after awhile you stop trying 
because you realize that not matter what you try its just not going to light. At the crossroads the 
Devil stands with a can of gasoline, waiting to make a deal. For a small price you can have the 
burst of flame you so desperately crave, in that moment you feel whole and complete with the 
warm arms of the fire reaching out to hold you tight. In time no matter how much gas you buy, 
the rain from heaven when angels cry will drown the flame; leaving you with nothing but shame 
that you sold out for a temporary flame. What is that price that is to be paid, so you can feel the 
warmth, but the gas quickly burns away leaving you standing in the crossroads with a price to 
pay. In my life I have learned it’s not the price you want to pay for the short lived flame, just 
hold on and in the new day the rain will go away.

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At All Cost


When it come's
And in those day's
   Of Judgement
          - And -
In that time of time's
     So real, so real
The time for Testimony
Where Judgment run's
Rampant and Supreme
The Hypocrite will definitely
         Have His Day
And the Evil By Law of Man
          Shall not prosper...


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In The Faith


Proclivity takes'
    Time to 
Catch up!

    And yes',
Have faith in the
When the Time come's
When thing's get rough
      And He will..
    Deliver you up...
Fore in His House
Their is His Mansions' 
With plenty room for
And with the new coming
Of each and new Soul
Their is a shift in the very Soul's
For every-one knows' 
The song of restoration...
Fore Revalations' is only
A hand shake away....
And it is to He that we must pray....


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January Arrives

January arrives like a newborn baby. It is young, innocent, and full of naivete. As we earthbound beings have known all the while, it’s the first of the twelve to go through the turnstile. The month will be the first to have Father Time write on its page. Can we all comprehend what will be written by the sage? After thirty-one days, January will be out the door. each following month we expect to be more mature. Robert Pettit for Personification of January Contest by Nette Onclaud

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Janus Awakens

Janus opens the door after a long sleep
And looks through the gate of the past,
Now says farewell to all that’s been done
Until turning his head to the future,
And walks in one direction for all to follow.
Restart has begun and it’s now a new
Year, and Janus can once again sleep.

By Greg Stanley

Entry for the “Personification of January” Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud

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My Visitor part2

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

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Putting its first foot  in is this guest
With twelve legs , January its blessed
It is neither man nor beast
Not surprising in the least
Good or bad; one should  wait for the rest.

S.Jagathsimhan Nair,    01-01-2012
For: Nette’s  January-personification contest

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The Clock

Tick tack
The clock shows life again
Tick tack
The clock brings life back

Hear no voices in the darkness
Tick tack, none hears the sound
See all moments of happiness
Tick tack, they fell it all around 
The clock goes on with 
Seconds become minutes quickly
Hours passed within
They are ready to become eternity

Tick tack
The clock shows life again
Tick tack
The clock brings life back

So fool to die in life
Now he lives life in smile
Liking the clouds in the sky
To where he looks for a while

No time in the yesterdays 
No time in the past to hide
He lives the present in many ways
And will never hold the time

Tick tack
The clock shows life again
Tick tack
The clock brings life in the heart

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Dogs, have they names,


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The Eagle and the Dove

I am a eagle who rules the sky,
I am mighty and strong, what possibly
could go wrong?
I am a Dove so fragile and sweet,
Please Mr. Eagle don't have me to eat.
I could be your companion,
I could be your friend,
Please don't let my life come to a end.
Why should I spare your life,
when you dared to fly by me 
and not fly by night?
When you dared to come into my sky,
did you not think you might die?
Should I have you not to eat,
when you are so fragile and so sweet.
This time I will allow you to escape,
Next time it shall be your life,
it would be your time of fate.

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Hometown Sky

A new day is in the way
No time to waste in the blue
Clue to a wise, true heart
and the poetry shows no sight

The clouds dance to the sun
in a windy rhythm
A show to everyone but no one
Heads down to imagination

A dark time comes ahead
With no shy the stars bright
Light up our dirty mind
and the will shows no sight

The clouds cheer to the moon
in a silent cry
A proudly flame to itself
Poets and lovers are sleeping

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Waiting On Decision

    Why wait...
Don't just lay back
And form your own
Don't let some-one
      Else, make
 The final decision
  To say the least
  Have to give you


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Love me why

You must love me ? love me, why? as how cruel is my heart,
                 how cruel has my quest for love come to this end...
how cruel that I found my true love only to find his heart numb to my own.

And now why carry on this life knowing this to be true!
I searched forever to find that my true love really exists but how evil is this..

As my quest has taken the women out of me and replaced my being with a harsher me.
That woman I was so long ago still lives within me she just had to go!
And now I stand here before his heaven with no way of entering the future with my true 
kindred soul,

Instead I shall end up in hell with so much woe as he will never love me it is my end I 
know and that's my own sentence forever to be in graved in my heart.
That my quest to find him took me further away from his heart.

Can I change into a bird and fly away tonight unheard?
Can I sink into the ocean and become lost forever in the darkest seas?

It is never to be for some one like me , to hold his hand in mine that fits into my fingers 
in twined,
No babies shall I ever hear cry as that too has been taken from me.

And now my quest to find true love is over, my tears, my broken heart, my fears are not 
finished that is for sure,
As now I have to watch him slowly disappear forever.. into his life,
I shall cry his name into the dark night until my voice has no sound, 
As my quest to find his heart has torn me apart and now that I am so damaged and so 
filled with past hurts..

The path that I took left me this way and now my heart will never be filled by another,
As I found him too late that's my life lesson, that instead of just settling with all the 
wrong hearts and trying to make it  become what it could never be. 

Take me now and let my life in this time be forgotten,as the next life time I shall save all 
the mistakes and stupid heartaches and keep on my quest to find him before any one 
can stop me trick me into false fate.

My end is to never be with the love I have finally found but to spend the next years 
being held by the emptiness of knowing my love is alive but in his eyes I am the walking 

I wish him love, I wish him peace, I wish i had never found him at all, as the search kept 
me hopeful now I am filled with rage and despair ...... 

If I take my life will it bring me back to the start or will i live forever in this dark black 
cold space as the evil underneath is hell that is for me .. but can it be any more painful 
than my own hell I live in today and now forever more.

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that was then and this is 2010: (part 2) Soul Food

we're now in the midst of the Holy season known as Lent
forty days and nights of sacrifice as a way to repent
a time for us to try and get a little closer to God
a time to fast, to give up something we hold dear to our hearts

we're in the age of technology with Facebook, Twitter and texting
the way people now communicate has become somewhat vexing
always with the I-Pods, I-Pads, cel phones and e-mail
time to talk to eveyone but God who only requires knee-mail

when Jesus encountered the Tempter after His time of fasting
He had a wilderness experience that would be forever lasting
hungry and tired from all those challenges He had to face
now waiting on the word of God to fall perfectly in place
the Tempter said "if You're the Son of Man make bread out of these stones"
Jesus replied " that man does live by bread alone
but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God"
the spiritual Soul Food that will forever nourish our hearts
the Daily Bread that overflows into our spiritual cups
the Word of God, the Soul Food that will forever lift us up
as that was then and this is 2010
it's time to come out of the wilderness my friend

we all have moments of frustration, heartache and pain
we need to come out of the wilderness and by God be made whole again
to face down the devil and the temptation He'll put in your way
now resistant to sin and no longer by the Enemy to be swayed
to partake of God's Soul Food which will guide us to all truths
to trust in God and do whatever His word asks of you
to call on God and know that He will always have your back
now full of His Soul Food and on the right spiritual track
knowing that it's now all under God's control
now fed and nourished by His Spiritual Food for your soul

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Mother Star

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

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Moved on now

Its been years may be,
as i enter you room again, feeling of lonliness creeps again.
feeling of vacivity inside me.
weeks into months into a years have passed, back again i m here.
my birthday again, have come to pack your things, to move on in life...
difficult to but i will...
a gift giving myself on your behalf as you would want me to move on...
long after you have gone, scent of your colonge still lingers in there..
the aroma reminds me of some good old days,
days we spent together, danced infront of my eyes in flash,
memory of my surprised birthday given by you, happiest day of my life...
other memories leaving a smile on my face
i wish i could over turn time and find myself with you,
its too late now.....
i feel to pessundate who have done this..
i know its wrong to talk or think like this but i cant help it..
tough to live like this.
so here i come to have a recap only for one last time and move on..
as you would dislike me to suffer like this..
as i pack your things with my feelings into suitcase
gate of memories will be closed forever,
time spent together cherished forever.
those memories spent together will stay in my heart,
silent tears will be all goes into the bags,
your cuffs, ties, pocketscarves,shirts lie in there..
lost to luster...
our photo frames, rings inside on the stand
my first earned gift lie unused
you said you will use those black cuffs when you come back
broke your promise!
i know you robbed my book and i knew you aware of it
as you robbed to tease me  is now covered with dust...
i would pack with other things...
as i pull drawer, watch gifted by you father too goes in bag..
beautifull memories of happiness and quarrels, from our past..
i could not apart...
it started to unfold, tears i could not control.
those natrum muriaticums rolling dowm my ckeeks but your absent even to wipe them.
more my heart bleeds.
as i dig your stuff into siutcase, bury my face into your clothes with our memories..
you have gone for real, sacrifised for our land our country.
you in heaven, me earth, distance too long, yet time for me to travel there...
so proud to associate with you but difficult to live without you..
but i will move on as my eyes watched all getting packed,
only few our traces left behind..
i stood for long with a hope you would come again back to me
but its late so i move on with positive approach, on a good note with you minus any bitterness..
as we both rest in peace, you in heaven me in earth..

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I want you around

you were set free,but your messing up already like thats where you wanna be.
today you got lucky this is your last chance next time there gonna lock you up and 
throw away the key.
                                 Is that really what you want them to do?
            It's really all up to you.You can get on track or mess around and go right 
                         I dont want to see you in a orange suit and in shackles again
                I love you more like family then a friend.
                All my friends now are locked up or dead, I want you to do good and stay 
one step ahead I'm trying to get in your head. I dont want you gone like them I 
want you around instead.

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An Undying Rose

A rose buds-
Reaches its arms
Out into the world.
They are felt,
They are given,
They are sold, 
They are picked, 
And they describe love.
It grows as petals do,
Fair, lovely, and bright,
Then wilt, but are not done...
They cry petals-
As they fall, 
The rose will recieve 
Special care 
Or be thrown.
The love that they had 
Is cherished
In a sweet scented potpourri,
To be kept forever.
I love you in this way.

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Poems - part 4


Passed way the years...
I was little child, 
Then, young, 
Now...i am old...
I was a small blade of grass
Growing up on a meadow
But now, ...i must fall...
I will born again...
A new blade of grass, little, 
I will rise in the same place, 
Then, i must fall...
I will be then a fir
And when the time will come, 
I will cheer up again someone's soul, 
On Xmas, i will be there, in its home, ...
On my top it will place a star...
From my branches will make its chaplet
And i, always, 
Alike a living Spirit, i will exist...
The sorrow i'll change
To someone, with happiness; 
A he or a she, will reach to know, 
Then, the Happiness...
Happiness of a child, 
Who became over the yeas, a young; 
Passed away my years, 
Now, i am old...
Passed away the years when i was playing in the sand, 
There, near my beloved sea; 
I had a castle, wonderfull, time, 
Price of a second, it was, 
In the next one, vanishing, 
Swallowed, into sea's water...
'Why you build castle near sea's water, child? 
Its waves will took ur castle away, u know that well enough! '
'Oh, yeah...i know, but don't forget something: 
The sand appertains to the sea...
How i will take something that isn't myne? ! 
Who will wanna take something, who doesn't belong to it? ! 
Do you see well, the righteous answer, to your question? ! '
Passed away years, now
And still there i am, near sea...
I make another castle who won't last...
But the magic of that second
In which, with a smile, i will look it, 
Will entire life...
Last even now, when..being old, 
I tell my remembrance...
I look at you, very well knowing
That you'll smile...price of a second, 
In ur smile, 
I would have found...
Oh, passwed away my years, alike the desert's sand
Cos, came the storms, moved the dunes, 
The oasis full of life yet remained, 
There, somewhere, secluded...
And the thirsty ones, found their peace...
They were walking through desert, straying, 
Searching for a place of rest, 
To defend themselves of the strong sun, 
Who, from their journey, stopping them...
From time to time, they noticing the oasis, 
Running to get to it...
But there, there wasn't anything..but the mirage...
Weaken there minds were! ! ...
Conclusion would have been, now: 
They walked on a road of knowledge, 
But only the sand's inhabitants
Know the secret of dunes...
Passed away my years...
But there remained



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Reflections in the Mirror

Age 6…..	Passing the mirror, 
	she pulls at her cheeks, 
       	sticks out her tongue—
       	blonde ringlets encircle 
                a freckled face.

13…..	The mirror beckons—
                She stops to preen,
                hating wavy hair 
                that tumbles into her eyes…
                She wonders, “Am I pretty?”

18…..	A young lady, 
                ready to meet life’s challenges
                reflected now— 
                Anxious to leave home,
                and parent rules.

24…..	A bride in white,
                smiling at  her reflection 
                in the mirror—
                Mother, in the doorway,
                proudly holds her veil. 

30…..	Carpooling, PTA, 
                soccer games, late dinners—
                this is her world…
                No time to fret over
                crow’s feet in the mirror. 

40…..	Does life begin at 40?
	The mirror doesn’t lie…
                Maturity shows in her face.
	Was ‘Self’ lost between 
	motherhood and mid-life?

50…..	She discovers his affair…
	Tearfully calls Mom—
	Can she forgive?
	Out of shape, distraught,
	she sobs in front of the mirror.

60…..        Freedom, a time to just BE!
	Comfortable in her own skin—
                with time to pursue 
                her own wants and needs.
	Life is good!

70…..	Passing the hall mirror
                in her usual flurry,
	she glimpses her likeness,
	suddenly realizing—
 	she’s the image of her mother.

	         Tamara Hillman

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A Highway Run

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!

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My Grass in the Desert

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!

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Weekend Oh Weekend

I love you so much
I want to sleep with you
for two whole days
and then up to
time to work again.
I bet it would make us both
feel really, really
really good!

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The Crucified Church

Stained glass windows
Paint her world-
In shades of
Lavender and rose-
As she sits alone
Atop of old point road-
In a place where
Bygone phantoms blow-

No one comes to visit
With her anymore-
The whispers 
From the pines-
She reminisces with
Of better times-
Before the cross 

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Acid Tears Kiss of Death

 let it rain acid tears let the kiss
of death take the life of anyone 
it comes so swift then goes the
same way the only chance to cheat 
your own death is your will to fight 
and your will to live with your
loved ones when the chains of death 
comes down on some they let 
self pity carry them away and slip 
away into a sweet surrender of 
eternal sleep so makes jokes about 
what they dont understand or are 
scared of what will you do when 
the time comes for your own
moment of truth let it rain acid
tears and burn the flesh right off
your very own bones then slowly 
dissolve bones and brains you have
when it starts let the kiss of death 
come and take away the pain and 
guilt of what you have done to me 
you are thinking when do these 
chains come off and set me free 
but in the mean time the chains 
are rusting and turning your 
skin and bones into nothing

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My Visitor part 1

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

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about the poet

I have dreams to flashes n from time 
to time I decide to put them down n 
people to read I'm plain n simple no 
big word nor complex easy to read 
,wht I try to say n explain sometimes 
is hard so I give up n go months 
without writing, I do this to relax, 
from the 4 books n many mini storys i 
keep coming up with,like I say, I live 
in a dream where people pay for me 
to tell n they get amazed when I tell 
them, thts not a dream thts how my 
life has been n how I lived it n have 
not gone insane, well not yet !."oh 

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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

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A free man

Give me the hope
Give me the light 
That I was looking for

I don’t want to be blind any more 
Please let my prayers rise to your kingdom
I am sure that for once in a life time I deserve it

Let me be free
May I fly like a bat?
Only at night 
Because I’m sure that I must be blind
To do not see what I have right in from of me

My self must be deaf 
My soul must be mute 
Because I don’t speak every time I hear of you

Let the breeze hit me
Like a slap on my face 
Because I have had life right in from of my own blind folded eyes;
Since the very beginning

Stupid me
I did not realize that 
Till this last very moment

What a sinner like me can do?
Nothing else, but to be glad that I was blindly wrong 
And learn from the experience that life gives us

All the way from loving to hatreds 
And the lost of a love one, 
And of course living the incomparable life

I am guilty as charge
For once being blinded

I am a free man
Thanks to that fly
That I took once upon a time
That I was only a man

I am a free man!!
In JESUS grace

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Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age

Saturn, you take a very long time to orbit the Sun 
29.46 years 
You were the slowest moving object known in ancient times 
They who observed you didn't have telescopes 

Saturn, they thought you were the slowest planet 
They didn't know about Uranus and Neptune 
They saw you as taking longer than your brothers and sisters 
To revolve around your parent star  

Saturn, you were named after the Roman god of agriculture, and time 
Because of your slowness 
Thought of as Old Father Time 
You were thought to bring old age and death 

Saturn, you are 
The Bringer 
Old Age 

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Your Not Gone,But Soon You Will Be

If Idon't get to say good bye for one and final time,
then know i've alway's loved you more than anyone could.
And though you are ill and the diseases you have are painful and kill,know God will comfort 
you and you'll rest in his arms.
You are my mother who I dearly love,you are my friend and alway's have been.
We've had our cries,we've had our laughs,
we've shared pain,and were both a little insane.
How can I say exactly say how i feel,
when so far away i cannot show you.
I wish i could give you all you deserve,
the moon the stars, and all you dreams,
take away all the pain,the nightmares,and screams.
This reality is all to real,
I want to wake up,call an apeal.
god is who we must call upon,
in times of right,in times of wwrong,in times of joy,and times of pain.
He is the one who can save us all!
Your soul he will rest,now i'm depressed.
Just in case i dont't get to say goodbye.
I wish i could hold you and hug you again soon.
But when i give you this letter it'll be to late,
you will probably be gone.
Cancer,serosis,diabetes,and more,
I sometimes curse life and it's whores,.
You my mother,please know i love you,
i love youi because you've alway's loved me,
in all i have been andand always a friend.
An ear to listen,an eye to see,a hug and a home ,
A mother in all.
times were rough in our growing up,
we didn't have much ,and sometimes very por,
you gave up alot,even the men that raped us.
We our family,barely alive,barely escaped.
Nobody knows of the horror we've endured or seen,
what we've lived,how cruel,how mean.
But we were strong,we made it through it all,
we have survived one and for all.
now your time is coming to rest,
So follow God,He offers his best,
A kingdom full of no pain or hate,
but of much love and joy.
something you so rarely had,
you will soon have.
So take it and be glad,
rejoice and be glad,
You will be in Heaven!
I love you mom!

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A moment in time

The music bringing you back to places in time which affected you with an emotional 
consequence But since all this time has passed now it has become a remanicent memorie of 
all  the uplifting, downsizing,  and overwhelming roller coaster rides.
A message in time to come, if you choose to see it. An immediate refreshing of the emotional 
soul; in combination with your intellectual self. Then it becomes not just a message anymore.
Instead it has grown into a great metamorphosis of spirt to embrace; consuming your sinful 
nature, leaving only the lambs blood, giving you clarity, peace and serenity.

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Silent Poet

In winter I nestle 
under your quilt warming me  
till snow melts.

In spring I bloom 
from your quilt to bear fruits
of everlasting joy.

In summer I watch 
hordes of backpackers, under my shades 
as heat wave makes them bored.
In fall I remember 
you, my sanctuary, full of uplifting smiles
as I, slowly, turn into gray.

Before your eyes I became 
the silent poet, longing for your warm
embrace when winter, again, comes. 

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My Silent Solitude

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

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Commanded Demands

Verily, verily I say onto you.
Watch me pass right through.
That which is of dust and sand,
Knew not of my helping hand!
That which is of stone and clay,
Knew not of my night and day!
Shew thyself away from the dust!
Put on clean garments of the just!
Shew thyself away from the stone!
Put on armor protecting thy bone!
That which has been made of a particular brand,
Henceforth, are made from commanded demands!

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Priceless Penny

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?


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The Look of Love

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   

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A past renewed

Upon a time once there was a heart, a soul overthrown by fear itself, he wept
His past stood up and drew his breath from his very soul, leaving him almost dead
Challenging time to preserve the love that flowed toward his path nearing ahead
Troubled times, passing heart aches dwelled in his heart where hope was reigned and kept

Breaking in all part, even his dreams feared him, he was dead inside
All was forgotten, a fake smile substituted the once joyous heart that danced and sang
He knew not of hope or ligth to cometh his way any time soon, lost was his self pride
His dreams forgotten past the history of rhyme, where it all began with a big bang

Death walked beside his shadow, they held hands and purple he became
Dark were his hours, it rained all over his soul, soaking in all the floating wrong
Yet his heart stood idly still, in some ways it was fortified and it remained strong
Dark colors overthrew his colorful way of seeing the world, his dreams were tamed

Steping out all love, he sank into depression
Seeing not in life to come, but in eternal darkness did he see an answer to his feel
A shattered spirit slapped his vile vision
The broken yet hard heart looked up and shook hands with bad luck herself, it all was real

The ocean holds many buried bones of braveary that death claimed for her joy
At the bottom of the ocean lay all the dreams and hopes forgotten
Isolation and strife truly made that heart grow rotten
It shattred and it only remained in dust, for dust we were and dust we shall be

Forgotten, only remembered in the pain that followed him, that dwelled at his everday
Falling to the deepest sleep, death herself spoke out
Yelling ugly metaphors, expressing her points to the heart that stood strong and not in doubt
His King came forth the mountains that shook at his sigth, and gave him a past renewed

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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

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Angels of Mercy

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

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I Weep For Thee, O Bethlehem

On a cold, wintry Christmas night
bright light on a manger shone
to fall softly upon a mother mild
cradling her little baby child.

Three wise men followed the stars
to thy beckoning door, Bethlehem,
bringing frankincense and myrrhs
to pay homage to the king.

Thy name is music to mankind's ears
proclaiming forth freedom and hope,
sweet like a chorus by heaven's choir
vanishing darkness and fear.

Yet, two thousand years thereafter,
what became of thee, Bethlehem?
now enclosed within high fences,
inside your captive people keeping.

On those cruel barriers are graffiti
imploring "Make love, not walls";
as I weep for thee, O Bethlehem,
where has thy promise gone?

Bethlehem is a Palestinian-populated city in the West Bank, administered by
the Palestinian Authority. It is now mostly inhabited by Arab Muslims and many 
Arab Christians have left the city and immigrated abroad due to the harsh living
conditions. The city is surrounded by high concrete walls and no one gets in or 
out without clearance from the Israeli Army guarding its checkpoint.

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The Trainer

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!

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Time's Up

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.

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In the distance of a midnight prayer you may ask, that you be heard by the Master, 
As you send your request asking for guidance, and comfort through certain 
moments of your life

Or when you take a stand for all you believe, and place in yourself only words 
that “I will succeed”, To fall short balled around on your own heel, and it leaves 
you weary and you do not know in the moment how to feel

The end is near to finish it all off, you spend sometime piecing it together the 
road at the path you once did chose. Finding it was all worth it no matter the 
gains, and what you did lose, You take a moment to catch your breath to receive 
your own just reward from the short task goals you have just performed

Yes moments like these are in our lives, and with out them well we would not be 
able to take time for one self, To reflect who we are and what we believe, When 
the day comes to the end I we can only hope to reflect did we spend our time 
wisely on this wondrous day


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Silver hair illuminating 
The sea
Upon the star-filled night 
I whisper your name
On cold night
Coffee brings warm to me.

Details | Personification | |

The Lighthouse

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.        

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Agonize Me

My body is aching and my mind is sweating.
 I have limited source of energy stored
My heart has volunteered to keep pumping red wine in my veins
My bones are tender sweet mellows of marsh
But I have to make love to you
I have to find the strength to bring the tears out of my secret storage
It’s gotta happen!
Though I am of no power
And no mental anxiety
My sophistication must prepare my maturity to perform for you
It has to be strong, passionate, and long lasting of all
In distraught I have to do my very best
U don’t know what I’m feeling 
But you feel like making love
Under the circumstances, 1-minute is all I care to demand
Yet my wish has not been granted and I will endure a legacy of a night that will 

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Behind These Walls

Being set free is all you think about
Sitting behind these green doors and wanting to get out
Looking around at these bare white walls
Thinking to myself how could i fall
Fall into this hole so big and deep
Wanting so bad to fall asleep
How can i fall asleep with a peace of mind
Knowing that some c.o.'s are not so kind
I didn't come expecting to be treated like a queen
But respect is due we are human beings
I sit up in this place until late at night
Wandering to myself is everything right
Go to sleep they say with the light in my face
Please LORD just take me out of this place
Wake up at 5 a.m. to cover a mat
Can't do nothing but be sleepy and sat
Rubbing your eyes trying to think of what you can do for now
Can't do nothing but sit til 6 until they holler for chow
Lock Down Lock Down is all we hear all day
An hour, 30 min, that's no time anyway
So lock us down for one day and soon you will know
That hollering at us was just a show
So be careful C.O.'S of what you might say
Because your time will come on JUDGEMENT DAY !!

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Magic Mind Trip

Fire of ancient times march of fascist crimes i see what unfolds in front
of me do you believe can you walk beside me magical garden never denied 
me. Will you join the willing can you survive just this one time in the realm
of mind to some is certainly blind.

Oceans divide drink the wine excelsior divine magnificent lyricist
untold martyr the Mecca of medieval understand one man's evil.
Take this trip with me breath let the unease set sail the breeze
together we can travel this magical mind trip, mercenaries we
explore to grant the world our stories just wait till you see what's
in store i promise you no more worries.

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Fear from the distance

Eyes glued firmly open, awake, I
Watched the time slipping quickly by
Frightened,fear touched me, softly from a distance
Was not long now, until our goodbye

Couldnt close my eyes. Couldnt fall asleep
For tomorrow would come as fast as a bomb
My body tried to prepare to be shattered into poeces
To be cold, empty and alone once again.

Morning exploded into my senses. I could not
Use any. Numb, everywhere inside and then
Evil hands forced us to seperate
Snatched away, uncapable of anything.

Pain. Emptiness.Loneliness. Felt it all.
I was not properly prepared for the fall.
Crying inside, noone to hear but you
My heart bled continously; teared into two.

My heart will always be with you. Only you
Could make everything OK.We just had to remember
And were happy for the moments we shared.
Sweet Sweet memories let me dream

Now i need you more than ever, Wearing 
You close to me, smelling, feeling your presence here
But i'll continue to exist without you here
Clinging on to your heart you left with me.

I wrote this for my wonderful Demetris,when we were in our long distance 

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She Stands

She stands at the harbor door
so strong, her heart of stone
is like one of a Saint.
Her eyes of wisdom have seen
the coming of greatness, and
she welcomes them, much as a 
mother cuddling her newborn babe.
A sight to behold for many a lost vessel,
searching for the comfort, once forsaken
needing refugee in safe arms.
Tears she has dried, while allowing dreams
to become reality, with new found hope.
A giver of compassion, love, and acceptance,
never swaying, she stands.
A beacon of warmth as a new life begins,
guarding the rights, and safety for all.
Yes, she stands at the door.