Kashmir is the innocent beauty of nature
It lifted me above all mire dark and dense.
Kashmir is the divine smile
It gifted me a peace beyond all of my sense.
Kashmir is the sorrow
It showed me a combined pain of poverty, corruption and terrorism.
Kashmir is the beautiful helpless unmarried woman.
Whose neighbors are trying to capture her body not sweet heart.
Kashmir is the paradise on earth without dream...
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
( THE POEM IS DEDICATED TO EVERY WOMAN IN ALL COMMUNITIES OF JAMMU & KASHMIR AND POET ANDREA DIETRICH )
This is a day that I could have really done without,
Saying you love me and do this to me hurts no doubt.
Day after day I pray that you will please stop,
What pain you've caused me has taken all I've got .
I love you and adore you but it seems not to matter,
Still you continue to hurt me leaving my heart shattered.
You come to me with words I have only dreamed ,
But what they were meant for was to hurt me it seems .
Never have I seen a woman with so much hate ,
Taking revenge on me by disrespecting me till it hurts.
True I have waivered with my troubles with trust,
The one thing thats important and this is a must.
There are no more words or sayings that will ever work,
I have tried everything I know giving it all that its worth .
To the day I die I will never understand why ,
The woman I love does everything to make me cry .
So this my dream to be forever with you ,
Is only nightmares for me and dying is all I can do.
This a day I surely could do without.
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.
My bark is worn from time and life
My steady branches have withstood much strife
The life blood that raged in my youth
Its edges raw and at times uncouth
Time has polished and as steel has hardened
As I have stood watch faithfully in my garden
My saplings I have sheltered and nourished
Their tiny sprouts have grown and flourished
My work here is almost done and
I was content to stand silent in the sun
However, one day as I stood alone
Came a carpenter with hands gentle and strong
He looked past my peeling ragged bark and
Found my barely beating heart.
He has caused me to dream of my youth again
Of beauty, peace and the passion of men
I am his project to mold and to make
A challenge only he is equipped to take
I stand here now curious to see
What this craftsman can make of me.
I am going on a trip because I need to spend a week away from these aspects.
Don’t burn that money.
Don’t waste it either.
I’ll spend it on something that I dislike.
It may be a venture but since I have spent my money, I can get high.
Clip art are my drawings and they are of beautiful megabits.
I think I am superfly so I play Rock & Roll all night.
Escape to the highest heights of my imagination is when I know who I am and where I have been
Little am I and my jeans are tight.
With my big tits, I walk as if I am filled with sexual desire.
I see myself and smile.
I’m feeling something that is so real.
I knew, if I lost focus, I lose my inner being.
So I give self a darn bulge, know that this is my world; therefore, I don’t lose the sensation.
The impression I give is that of confidence.
Self-asserted and assured, I moving up to finer things.
Handsome is the day and the night falls so lovely.
But I need to see what’s mine.
I need to see what belongs to me.
Strikingly, I find that I own so many priceless images.
A landscape I may pick to be serenity.
Or, a portrait is nice for the stillness.
I’ll plant a flower field to enjoy the contentment.
Equanimity is a silent panic.
I am just a being of the higher intelligence.
The noise is a clamor that does not last.
I will be the uproar of happiness.
Such a pleasure to have told you this.
If you want a replica, you may do the same.
That is joy in a virtual domain.
No more is the chance than any other government.
I have ruled this empire as long as I can remember.
Directions are easily to follow.
If you fail, I will not fail mines because all are downloadable.
I do not share my empirical secrets.
I am a régime of systems.
Simulated by thoughts that is pure.
Only I can be the downloader.
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
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,
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
As she spread her crest, sweet fumes filled the air.
From a humble bud, she turned to a beautiful red rose,
Ripe enough to make a garden of its own.
With her scent, insects flew,
Tempted to taste its sweet milky bottom.
That's what happens when a flower blooms!
Something deep inside of me is longing to escape
to a better place outside of myself.
How will I get there?
Will there be anybody to help me find my place.
I'm not the same as before.
I want to walk away from it all but my first step is walking
through that door.
I'm afraid because I have no idea what's in store.
I want to live with no regrets, doubts or fears.
There's a big world out there for me to discover.
I have so many questions.
Will I be able to make it on my own or will I need
a helping hand.
Someone who will listen to me and understand.
I got to find a way to become the woman I so much
want to be.
I got to be stronger to make it in this world.
I want to say goodbye to the girl that I once was
and say hello to the new woman that is me.