From childhood it was a world of two...you and I...
I leaned lightly, leisurely against your heart and you let me in.
We were five I use to draw you rose scented flowers
using an ordinary led pencil. Youth! The world was ours.
Seven! I know that was the first time I saw you blush.
I whispered a song for you so no one else would hear.
Oh when we were nine! The potato sack race. I entered with Lisa.
You gave me that look. Oh that look! And you left without a word.
At eleven years old I had my "magic wink". "A Magic Wink" you'd
say sarcastically. How it made you giggle to make fun of it.
It was at thirteen we decided to burn the gym floor with our moves.
Our first dance. You stole my breath. Emptied the room of oxygen.
Fifteen...we started running and my God we ran and ran...
our shoe prints dug into the concrete. It was then I knew. Forever.
Then suddenly at seventeen in the slip of time you left, dissapeared.
Stunned! I slept through the next two years even in the full light of day.
At nineteen I swam an endless pool but even the chlorine couldn't
clear your scent from my memory as my spirit filled out hard as steel.
Was it on my twenty first birthday you showed up? You showed up
tried to hug me hello. Silent! Cold! I turned and walked away.
Was I still twenty one when I apologized for that day. When you asked
for an explanation. I recited false words but we both knew. Hurt for hurt.
Then at twenty five we still had issues to work out. I asked you bluntly
why you cut me loose in the prime of our youth. You my first and only.
I asked the question that burned in my gut. Without words your eyes spoke.
You were still in love with me. There was only me. I your first and only.
Finally our lips met to never part again. Left to wonder why, I accept our
lives without an answer. My love was that. Why would I have let you go?
Older than old now. One last time you leave. Death makes this choice.
Alone again I remember how I never knew why once you left.
Not everything is explained or understood,
like music by a one arm man playing a violin.
I sport my blank stare. Naked is the body of life.
Mystery sings blind the song of the lark!
i think of you.
March 29 2015
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES…
These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.
Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history
Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.
We sashay along bleached beaches
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:
We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.
Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015
If I forget you, would you remember me?
If I still love you, would you still love me?
If I fall when old, would you lift me up?
If I sleep, would you sleep by me?
If I run away, would you follow me?
But If I stay, would you stay with me?
If I see you, would you recognize me?
I know you would Not.
That is why, I wish I would whisper
And not hear myself.
I wish I could cry
not feel my tears
nor feel my fears.
Tonight, my final Farewell.
24 August 2014
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
Two travelers with different destinations, we met before our paths diverged,
and in that span between our first encounter and subsequent farewell,
we read in one another’s eyes a wanderlust that took us off our track.
We found ourselves in a meadow of grass seemingly never trodden on before,
where we became as two breezy joyous children, frolicking dizzily around
the wildflowers that became our world. Racing each other up a knoll,
we finally and breathlessly tumbled into one another’s arms, growing silent
as we gazed into each other’s eyes beneath a sky of blue.
Rapture soon discovered us that glorious day in the meadow. . .
Later, a nearby river enticed us with its rushing sound, so we followed it.
Coming to its end, we saw the sky grow black and tried to find our way back
to our first spot of discovery and enchantment.
Instead we wound up back on the common path where we’d first met,
parting ways as a sudden rain’s downpour veiled my view of your departure.
Every now and then I stop and wonder if you ever came across a place again
that could compare to the rapture of our time in the meadow.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
"As I watch the blue skies
Suddenly turned into gray
Darkness easily surrounds
Their clouds, covered in haze.
The rain will fall again, I say
A nature's moment I dismay
Raindrops will soon touch the ground
The sad feeling, again I'll be hound.
Splattering rain, the sound that haunts
Sweet and sad memories of the man
Taunting me to remember once again
The love once lost, never be back again
Every drop of rain that falls, I pain
Each drop it falls, my heart is in vain
"Try to listen" to the rain, he once said
'Tis like a last goodbye, could not hear I said.
The sound of the crying heart, I still hear
The sound of a weeping soul, I can hear
The silent tears that they weep,
The silent scream that echos so deep.
Listen to every drop of rain
To it's agony, vain, pain,
Listen to the rain as it falls, maybe
There is your love, every drop after all...xoxo
Copyright © Anna Lo | Year Posted 2012
wake up to serendipity
ignorant and unknown
shaken and not stirred
blond can be bond
Reality, metaphor and cliche
cheesy juvenile decay
Love, care and hate
past the use by date
of fights and torment
and well deserved lament
salute to the solitary reaper
with Metallica... I disappear
Copyright © Anwar Hussain | Year Posted 2009
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
It’s a common saying that is decoded from the look of a man
But of a truth, genuine and true beauty is beyond what the eyes can see
Only the heart can feel it
It glows with such power, even the ‘blind’ will perceive
Regardless of our status, rich or poor
Aboriginality, the language or cultural background
We all can see and perceive this inner beauty with the same view
One advice for my fellow brothers,
Always by pass the look go straight inward
And from the inward, outward appearance can be well appreciated
And advice for everyone
As you take time to make up the physical beauty
Create more time to nurture the inner one
For when you are inwardly ugly
The outward projection is nothing but a fake
Copyright © Joshua Akinwande | Year Posted 2011
Ambitious Girl, your ideal for me
We living in a fake world, but you kept it real for me
Your drive is driving me crazy
Steering me to your direction,
crashing into your heart like I'm drunk doing 180
Make-up, you don't need it boo
Your beauty is a reflection of GOD and the image on the screen
You don't feed into
I love how your determined to follow your dreams
Be the next star on the movie screen
Not focused on material high price jeans at the venue
I love the genes thats in you
Love what you aspire to be, you inspire me
To do the same
You getting older so you don't have time for the games
These other girls can't even fathom your imagination
They show off ass, you showing off your aspirations
I'll be there for your graduation, you got all this passion waiting
My last one didn't have what your packing which is fascinating
I can tell you love the thrill of the chase
Don't smoke but these drinks you willing to chase
To have the pain erased, still hold that smile on your face
Your spirit can't be replaced
While you logging into school, in your dorm
Your honey to these niggaz who B ready to swarm
I'm here to help motivate,
My heart is a home for you so you'll 4ever have a place
From the Stress
From MD to wherever, our mutual respect will connect- GQ
Copyright © quincy cannon | Year Posted 2015
Being lost seems to be my only option these days
Confusion appears to outweigh common sense in my life
My ability to reveal truth from lies has wreck havoc on my brain
I now strive to train my thoughts to linger in limbo
Never truly desiring to leave
This is now my fortress my solitude
As I clutch my razor and feel the etching of the sharp metal
I’m forced to think back to a time when
I had a dream, had a plan, had a voice
Now all I have is just a corner
Not even my corner
As my peripheral view is constantly reminded of
Your pathetic attempt to hold on to the past
To a woman that I’m sure was drowning as am I
In the room of torture, clutter and stale air
She has now become my hero
Because she mustered enough strength
To run and start anew
New this sounds foreign to me
My tongue has difficulty allowing
The syllables to dance off my lips, mouth
I have to stop and regain my composure
Hope is something of the past
Hope is no longer associated with me
I now live in a corner stationed between
Past & Despair
Robotic movements mimic life
But as you approach you stand to smell
The vile carcass of my flesh slowly dying
Despair is my friend
Past is my new position in life
I had peace, love and happiness once
I felt it flee each and every time I
Entered your suffocating presence
Mister Kill Joy you have successfully
Accomplished your task of
Copyright © Tanya Jenkins | Year Posted 2011
Bathed by the ocean blue
There came a thought…
And it was solely of you.
How you’d dance across the night sky
With palms and the waves, waving good bye
With hopes and lights
All lost and wandering the night
Not at all lost…
But not at all found
I’ve wandered these towns…
I’ve wandered these thoughts,
Where has the time gone by?
No longer you dance…
No longer you play…
Just sit there in the sand
By the oceans nice bay
Dream with me tonight
Dream with me of all the things we once would do
Come back to life…
Dance with me one last time
Beside the oceans blue
Come back to life…
Give me one last memory of you
Copyright © Jessica Kuilan | Year Posted 2012
Sitting alone again, wondering if you're okay.
being alone, i remembered how i wanted you to stay.
looking for something I can hold on to.
It's the pillow that reminds me of you.
Every time the clock ticks,
I would always find a way to entertain myself &
hoping i can do some magic tricks.
before i close my eyes & go to sleep,
every night , i hope, i can be w/ you for just a glimpse.
every time it rains, i would always go outside,
but i guess no one would like to hold my hand & be by my side
I touched my face & i was already crying under the rain.
will there be someone willing to cast away all this pain?
until now, no one would risk,to wipe off these tears.
The shadow of my past, well those are my fears.
i always want to hide myself from this world's madness.
I often feel that I'm inside a bubble or in a dark sanctuary,
where there is sadness.
I hope there will be a wishing star that will pass by.
I'll make another wish,to find the guy who cant make me cry.
i sat at the corner of my room, and in my hand, was a ring,
a question that even i cant answer,
"will i forever be waiting like an Angel w/ a broken Wing"?
Copyright © Marianne Nolido | Year Posted 2011
I wander through my journey, interspersed with joy and pain, always grateful
Though not by choice, some days are somber; yet others follow with abundant joy
In my solitude, memories come alive with the recall of some old song from another time
When life was carefree in everyway! No worries and not one care!
First heard as a child; the title now lost to me, so I’ll call it "Mama’s Song"
It’d start off soft and slow; its rhythm smooth, graceful, incredibly beautiful!
Then lingering on my mind, gently reviving memories lost somewhere in yesterday
It’d calm my spirit, take me away- away from countless, mundane tasks
All necessary things, but they arrest my days, imposing, threatening, vying for attention
There’s a constant battle that rages within, and I often ask, “Should I lay down this burden
of joyless pursuits which hinder valid expressions from my heart? Should I?
And to what profit? Surely monetary gain is a necessity, but at what cost to my spirit??
Were I guardian only to myself, I’d simply choose to live lean somewhere by the sea
I would cast my net for food, and barter for grain and herbs. However, the compass is set
So, I escape in the melodies, with my eyes closed, and fly high, above this terrain
Sailing on the massive wings of a Condor, unafraid; over rugged pathways and
Jagged edges of mountains that rise above the seas, far away from this place of constant
weariness, on my way to a place more tranquil, somewhere in yesterday
I hover over rivers that give life to green valleys below, quite an amazing view to see!
Like black velvet ribbons they meander through the changing landscape
At an angle they shimmer like fine crystal in the afternoon sun, and in one breath,
I am there! At Mama’s feet, studying her as she sews dresses for my sisters and me
I watch, I listen to her, softly singing; feel her contentment and peace through the song
Never complaining, never too tired to go beyond the call, to love and care for family
Teaching by example, using less words, her quiet spirit, ever steadfast, strong
Those times when I feel I can not go on, when afraid I'll falter, I still hear the the melody
and "Mama's Song"!
Note: For Mama - Thank you for putting us first! For the many lessons learned which we nowteach our children. RIP w/Papa!!
Copyright © Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2010
My love, were you as steadfast as I,
We'd drive the neverending chain
of a bond unbreakable and rev
the fever of a solidified love affair.
Yet, I ride alone in despair and pass
scenes of you falling out of love with
From our last I love you to our first
I see the twinkle in your eyes fade
And of all reasons to brake for
you change gears with good intent...
And I find that to be the most
Knowing, that I alone was not
to heal your fractured sense of self...
A failure I shall regret until I unlearn
my first memory...
For to have known you, is the one
of my thoughts that contained pure
Now, they fade in the wind shield as
do 100 to 0 in the lane of smitten
And should I be able to forget the
best of you,
I pray by moonlight that reverse
forward, and I can catch your smile
dreams without knowing your face
Just an image of an unknown
lives around the corner of time and
It is there, on this blind faith avenue,
will carry you back home from the
never had the chance to live...
Copyright © Audonus Taylor | Year Posted 2013
(In a churchyard in Northern Ireland)
Through the broken and barren trees
Winter exhales its coldest breeze
From the wintry breath of northern seas
That can chill the warmest soul.
Thus in the churchyard by the sea
Nigh one broken and barren tree
Lies cold a soul once warm to me
Beneath the winter’s rime.
As the heart of winter doth unfold
I feel its touch, so dark and cold,
For I yearn at night to yet behold
That soul once warm to me.
But in earthen depths doth she lie
E’er below the moon and starlit sky
As yet unto her grave I wander by
And despair the winter’s rime.
O’ the winter wails upon the still
With its bleak and bitter chill
That conjures from the nightly nil
A soul once warm to me!
Copyright © Robert Liam McCallum | Year Posted 2015
I Shall Never Love Anyone Like You
My heart ache as I watch you fall for another.The pain hurt so much I felt sick.I didn't have the courage to tell you my feeling I din't have the courage to tell you what my hearts feels.But I can't refuse to watch you fall into he hand of another.May i blind myself may i break my own heart may i give relief to the feeling that I had when i could no longer hear your laugh no longer see your smile and no longer feel your touch.To me being alone and feeling nothing is worthless I shall miss what I have lost but this I have done to protect what little shard of my heart remains.You feel another never knowing my feeling for you.but it fine now for I shall never love another like I loved you.
Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2012
In love I was lost
I plunged headlong
Oblivious of the consequences
For she was fair to behold
E’en fairer than the lily of the garden
She took me by my hand
And together we strolled
We explored the new frontiers of love
My company she greatly adored
Until she couldn’t break free
From the spell of love
Cast on her by fate
Uhm! It’s amazing what love can do
Damning the consequences
I forged ahead with my newfound love
Paradise was unraveled before me
An adventure of some sort it seemed
“Give it a try,” I urged myself
Shutting my mind deliberately to the odds
For if she had known
Then she wouldn’t have allowed me
Entry into her life
But her actions defies all explanation
Void envelopes her being in my absence
What had suddenly come over her?
In so short a while
When she laughed, I laughed
When I cried, she cried as well
The blissful times we shared were dear
Held close to my heart like a testament
“Could anything be this cherished?” I thought
Life definitely seemed very good
She withdrew at certain times
Not because she was through with me, nay!
But she remembers her Man-the Man
“You cannot understand,” she tells me
“You cannot understand,” she affirms
I am another Man’s wife
Like a thief in the night
Her man came
The show he stole
For he had cut short his journey
Unannounced he strolled into the scene
After all he owned the show
He assumes his manly duties once again
Giving her love and succor as it were
He was the man, I was a villain
I was soon relegated to the rear
Despondency and dejection became my theme song
Jealousy I spat out like bile
No one would empathize my shattered heart
For I was warned before hand
Not to fall in love with
Another Man’s wife.
Copyright © Funshio The Poet | Year Posted 2010
Once, the fairy tale vein do I embrace,
once upon a time
in the past not mnemonically distant,
were we the two poles of a magnet-
if you be the South,
me the North Pole.
If I be a flying matter,
You were the gravitational pull.
If I be the water,
You were the wave.
If I be a bridge
You were the pillars under it-
Yoking stasis to dynamics.
Now, as stasis and dynamics are unyoked,
I am all water under the now defunct bridge.
Copyright © Sarwar Morshed | Year Posted 2010
She Wrote To Me
My secret lover I left you 5 years ago I could not take it anymore I had
to fill my emptiness without you since I left I would cut out my heart
every night & in the morning its full again.
I got married to a rich noble politician thinking I can forget you I made
myself well known here in London as a musician playing the piano in
my own theater every night.
The theater was full the sound of my piano was known to everybody
living all over London due to my husbands political involvement in the
area for many years the whole theater would be booked.
My entrance was always approached with loud voices cheering till I give
the sign of performing .That specific night i was in a very determined
mood to involve my audience listen to the sound of my piano around
and everywhere the lights were on me already but no sign to begin
waiting for another noble to make his entry in the front row.
I was wearing that long dress in black and white strapless the one I had
worn on our first date doing my best to belong to my audience tonight
while craving to catch a glimpse of your existence live standing opposite
me the way we were your place was empty but not in my heart.
The audience were standing up clapping waiting impatiently to listen to
what they had already known music from the tip of my fingers will allow a pause through their breathing.
The lights dimmed no introduction was needed I was going to play an old
tune from the 80`s called Feelings remember when we danced to that tune I am dedicating this musical evening to you my love my first lover before we were obliged to be separated due to family upbringing.
That same evening tragedy stole my expectations of living a love to
perform an absolute change of a physical identity a living spirit awaiting
to be executed when suddenly I collapsed unconscious on stage my fingers
were numb my blood betrayed my heart.
It was a heart attack paralyzing me on the left side cure or no cure
is still unknown that had left me scarred when witnessing my dreams
shatter in disrepair.
I have been forced retirement at a prime age left with no choice
hide behind the shadows of the twilight abdicate my thrown
to an unknown.
Escape was a forgotten word before this chute as an invalid carcass today
my escape to the cottage was essential maybe a celestial miracle would prevail.
The cottage by the deep sea will become my quarantine from what was an enlighten world to a world of darkness, my retirement was a runaway from
the mockery of mankind who might disperse my dissipated soul.
My shutters are unclosed as their usage was worthless brightness
obscurity made no difference to me in that room.
The ocean view struck me by its calmness, huge waves were
not prepared to release their passion and splash on the shore to bring
forth their own melody.
I went for a walk walking like in a dream a dream with no feelings of body
and soul the moon provided me to detect another lonely shadow of a stranger yet this time it was the shadow of a lost fish wavering on the sand nearly lifeless, our eyes met needed to be rescued I said to myself even not feeling my withered hand I bent down kindly carried it and threw it back to life what a wonderful sensation. You will do that to me my darling, I will wait.
My decision to escape to the un inhibited cottage was a knowledgeable
step as only seclusion and spiritual wounds would heal to prompt a new attitude that will lessen my sorrow inspire my moral to long for
a tomorrow differing than a yesterday.
Stand by me today, my awakening will hoist a sparkling light of recovery
during this long coming journey. Intentionally I am your free woman.
Here I will sleep now until destiny will allow both of us to cure and leave our fears behind with our past, together venture back to where we belong.
I loved you and still love you. Me!
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
~ To My Brother~
When I live in the darkness for days and nights I don't
envisage to write a poem,but here I am crying over
the loss of my brother who died on Easter Sunday,
I stopped allowing my roses to come and sit by my side,
I left them those dozens of exotic colors to die,
I don't throw them away my living room with the china
vase looks dead,even the colors have faded away,I watch
my China table its on the verge of closing on itself,
just to get away not to breath from my grieving air.
Tonight I am in pain,my vision is overflowing with
endless tears,I am alone because my brother left me
and went away,he didn't even say goodbye,I didn't hear
him cry or even try to live as he knew he had to go away
in silence,carrying with him his lung cancer disease.
He died alone on a hospital bed his heart betrayed him
Why,he was still young 70 is not old,what was he feeling
we will never know,was he afraid,was he sad,was he
suffering,he was screaming they told me out of pain,
he was struggling maybe wanting to remain alive to
come back to see us at least one more time before his
final breath will give up on him,was he delusional
the whole morning till 6 30 PM when his soul became
muted,sad,as God wanted him to join his late brother
mother and father.
My pain is not only I miss him,its in what state of mind he
was in when he gave up, we will never know.
This endless emptiness he left behind will linger forever.
Now only I can wish you a goodbye.My children & I
Will always Love you.
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
Young man sitting next to me
on the grass,
I asked him,
If I am depressed can you help me?
I heard his voice,
I will expect you to feel alive and
never look back,
go on with your life when
I'll bring you back home,
and will never leave
When I am chilly young man?
will you cover me with your coat
protect me from thunder and rain?
I will carry you under the tree
shield you till the sunrises.
Young man, I lost everything
and I am trying to survive,
will you help me?
I will reason with you
as some things in life are made
not to last forever.
Young man if I am crying
as I live daily only as an image,
walking dead as a tool
which makes me feel
like a fool?
I will wipe your tears
& embrace you, search
for a way to please you,
and make you proud
of who you are.
Young man if I need a friend
how will you help me?
I will befriend you forever,
lean towards sharing,
consent to create a harmonious
lovable atmosphere ,
till you sense never
be solo again.
Young man if I want to kill myself?
as my injuries can never heal,
it's my soul's wounds?
what will you do?
I will forbid you to do that,
but enforce you to predict
use your vigor to promote
and throw away failure.
Acknowledge your age
what is best for you,
as looking backwards
can have an impact
on your life.
I need my children
I live in agony, an era
that seems seamless
inform them to grab me away
as my heart is heartless,
Beg them to stand by,
pick up the broken pieces
before it is irreparable.
Will you do that for me
Yes, I guarantee
they will rescue you,
My friend young man
get me off the grass,
walk me to the bank,
Arrived at the bank
holding his hand,
she asked the teller,
bring out my
This is for you,
to thank you for sitting
on the grass with me.
Young man, your image
will be engraved in my
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2014
? ...GONE... ?
I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt
To lose someone you never really had,
Days can be tough and at times cruel
To much for one to bear alone..
I was hoping that you would say
If I feel that I can't hold on any longer,
You'll take my hand and we'll go through it until together.
When the time comes, that if I can't stand on my own again
And I won't need you anymore, I will let go.
I will let go, if that would make you happy..
If you're lonely and your heart feels empty,
Just tell me and I will step inside.
But if One Day, you'll be needing that space for someone else
Don't worry and gladly I will give in my space..
Like in a painful, sad love story
It's amazing how easily to fall inlove with someone,
Who simply smiles, talks or stare at you
The only hard thing to do is to make that person fall for you.
They say that time heals all wounds, but all it's done so far
is give me more time to think about how much I miss You..
Okay, so maybe time heals most wounds, right?
Then why does it feel like it?
The wound is getting bigger and bigger every second.
Maybe Love is just a beautiful dream, and then we wake up..
Just as they always say when somebody leaves
When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness,
Instead keep your head up high and gaze for the stars.
For that is where broken hearts have been sent to heal..
What is the opposite of Two?..
...A lonely me, A lonely You...
They say relationships are like glass
That sometimes it's better to leave them broken
Than risk hurting oneself in trying to put it back together.
Lost in my heart, lost in my mind, I'm lost in your eyes
Entire days, weeks, months, ...a blur...
Flickers of light in the darkness
Only to be enveloped in shadow once more.
And yet within the shadows of pain
Might be the faint flicker of love once fel,t
And that could make all the darkness worthwhile
Because a single "I Love You"
Is worth more than a thousand goodbyes..
I'm tired my Beloved..
of chafing my heart against the want of you,
Of squeezing into little inkdrops and writing it.
Ask me why I keep on loving you
When it's clear that you don't feel the same way for me.
The problem is that as much as I can't force you to love me
I can't force myself to stop loving you..
So I tell myself sometimes..
'Count the gardens by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall.
Count your life with smiles and not with tears that roll." ..
Though sometimes, these tears say all there is to say
And the scars don't ever fade away,
I am thankful that for a moment
I once met You, I once felt you look my way.
I once felt You within me, in my heart and mind
I once was happy and alive with You
I once Loved you and still Loving You... xoxo
P.S ..KYHYCYILY.. always.. ? ? ?
Copyright © Anna Lo | Year Posted 2012
The displacement camp is overcrowded with a sea of people.
Today another village burns while families are killed.
It’s not safe here for this camp has been attacked.
Where do we flee or where do we hide.
A home would be nice…
A normal meal…
A normal life is just a dream…
Where is the justice.
Why can’t there be peace.
My hope is for my people to be embraced for who they are.
I ask those who hear to light a candle;
A guiding light to help us find our away.
We may never see the light of our hopes and dreams,
But we remember memories of our blessings and gifts.
We are not be part of this world anymore,
But we are thankful for this world in which we live.
May we find peace until we have light for our path…
Edward J Ebbs - 08/27/14
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2014
The river flowing tumble of snow
jackets the buildings and the road
on the last twilight of 1998.
As the sky is slowly draped by darkness and coolness,
there I am on the coldest loneliest walk of my life.
All around, I can see some dancing colored lights.
The houses spells the happy shadows of families.
Some sharing a meal.
Some laughing out loud near their Christmas tree.
Some on the middle of a party.
Christmas carols flying free on mid-air like:
"...But heaven surely knows
That packages and bows
Can never heal a hurting human soul..."
With only a coat, long thick black hair kissed by snow
and some old worn socks to warm me,
I traverse the street--
finding, finding a place I can call home.
About six days ago... I was also with my parents,
so happy, though we only share some bread and cheese
plus porridge that Christmas day.
Me and my parents hugged every night
allowing me to stand the icy nights of December
under the roof of our wooden worn-out home.
My parents though they can't read nor write,
they diligently work day by day for our needs specially mine.
I wasn't given any gift nor we can't everyday eat some meat.
However, my days with them are filled with fun-loving memories.
a monstrous fire eat voraciously
our home and three other houses nearby.
My father though old with arthritis
carried me fast as he can to a safe place
and so my mother but ---
father ran back to the house
to save some of our things but unfortunately...
The roof of our home fell.
The fire so ferocious swallowed everything including my father.
My mom and I dealt with this pit of tragedy as one
but later I saw my mother slowly, slowly crumbling down.
She more than me is slowly falling down faster.
Her lamp of hope blown out.
And not long, past six on the same day my mother died.
Hence as the surrounding gets cold
so is the the life of me gradually reaching the freezing point.
***Inspired by the story: The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen
and with some lines from the song: "My Grown Up Christmas List" by K. Clarkson
©O. E. Guillermo
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
Contest Name A Christmas Tale
08:33 pm, December 17, 2014
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2014
INTANGIBLE ASSET – The Transcript
He learned very young rather vaguely very untidily and blissfully unaware. He thought the only reason to do something was to do it differently to establish its difference by his own existence. It sheltered him from the world, kept a certain distance from reality, a very private person, a mythical figure conducting the water, shaping its sound until it was a bit wet, the humidity absolutely a revelation, the sudden clarity and unaffected structure sounding like a machine, not human in this phenomenal performance.
Composing, he forgot where he was he was in a trance. He would go back into his trance easily, there to attain that distance from the world that requires a lot of work, a lot of work, and he would go back into his trance quiet secluded preparing new things reworking old ones. He had enormous control over himself, transcendent ecstatic power with immense enthusiasm, a fragile person himself, throw stones at him and he will break.
And did you love him? Yes. Too.
The more he was used the more he was consigned to the netherworld, a particular kind of genius, a total identity in himself, a moonlight sonata. There was nothing to show changes, all the juice out of him, a peculiar thing to do if you want one word. Yes, the northern part of his being. The only alternative to peace was a mind crack-up, some room to think, a space to be in by himself. That other part that wasn’t evident was hidden. Anything pretentious made him ill, but the children loved it.
He had scattered memories for a while; that was a bit of an issue. He was actually extremely cautious and careful in a very real way, so at peace, a weekend thing, a very straightforward triangle, dead, a force of evil, sort of a variable perspective, the unexpected fruit of that rather more democratic assemblage, and he woke in the morning to find that everything had changed.
A larger theme drew him to the project, a post-Freudian glance, buying the best, and he loved the sound in there. He was mesmerized and could not believe the technique was absolute perfection from beginning to end, a little bit strange, he thought of the kind he had never had before, a world he could control, an odd instrument.
He could not operate as time went on. He did not function. The eccentricities became more important very intense and engaged for his sake as his paranoia became more evident a limitation he couldn’t accept. His personality began to change radically. Someone else began to emerge, but getting there was something else, gaining something and losing something at the same time, farewell a goodbye. It records his frustration.
What are the reasons for maintaining, for ending he could not easily surrender? It turned out that was the reason and he was very distraught. It was a very sad moment in his life eccentric life doesn’t have to make sense. The more he stared at his own body the more helpless he seemed to dismiss it as nature-boy stuff.
He didn’t actually go to the hospital, and felt very uncomfortable about that, but at least they weren’t all aimed at him, he was his own man. Sometimes they resolved themselves sometimes they didn’t emerge with the raccoons at twilight, take a little time and pull on this section, the most glamorous person he knew: joyful exuberance.
He messed up the words he’d gone too far this different man. There are certain things that become more beautiful. He saved for life a certain fulfillment from life. He was making it worse and he was calling after a big hole that suddenly opened in his chest. Definitely shocked he was not going to make it something was wrong. The king is dying and when it finished that was the end.
Copyright © Jack Jordan | Year Posted 2014
She is like a tree dancing in the wind,
her love is like tree leaves that's blown
away in the dust.
My love for her is not her only trust,
she liberates her flesh for lust to enter.
I cried for her love when she is gone,
she sunk like the sun in the west
as the evening creeps in.
I am like a cloud hovering over
her face sinking in the sea.
She rises again at dawn to smile
on a fresh new day for me.
Love me no more O My darling of woe!
Your love invade my soul and then
you vanish like the wind.
Come back to me and tell me your false
your name is now written as my fading history.
I am the wind coming in the rain,
you are the sea on the shores of my destiny.
Come back my love and embrace me with a kiss,
for our love to grow for you to dance like the
tree in the wind once again.
Copyright © Gideon Cecil | Year Posted 2011
Say something to me,
Shake me, brake me,
Don’t just stay quiet.
Say something to me,
Touch me, let me, have me,
Don’t just stay there silenced.
Show me love,
Show me more,
Breath with me,
Walk with me,
Talk to me,
Feel the life with me.
Say something to me, Say anything,
Open your hart to me, And your mind will follow,
Say something to me, Say my name,
In a slow and stimulating manner,
Say your deepest thoughts and feelings,
Say it freely,Inhale my energy,
Say it with your eyes,Just look at me intensely,
And let us be present here,
Now, just us, lost in the moment.
Copyright © Jelena Krasic | Year Posted 2014
They say there is a rose garden that blooms inside us now and again.
I remember how your breath was so sweet I wanted to swallow it
Whole – gobbling up your gasping wind – to drown my screaming
Passion, ignited by your soft molasses coated tongue, with the scent of rose
Blossoming inside me, where my blood rushed your love home – yes!
Later I thought how strange it was, that it could last for so long, with me,
Still breathing after you had left – for three days – I was exhaling your fumes!
But, that memory was not distressing, no! Mildly hallucinogenic; it was swirling
There in my blood, like the alcohol that washes away your scent – sometimes –
Life is like searching a beer garden for a bottle of aphrodisiac potion you’ve lost.
What’s more troubling is that all the other flowers continue to bloom.
Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2014
My stained glass image
was a ripe peach
with spilt Zinfandel
like electric rubies
pooling around a gentle ray.
It was a colour hungering
to weave spirit out of light,
so that all my prism
touched felt nothing
but the energy of day.
Then there was Love,
A star brighter than the sun,
halting Sol Invictus
and his fiery chariot
before Aphrodite’s temerity.
But Love’s luminosity burned
a fearful depth of heat
until all my eyes witnessed
was overexposed film
begging for clarity.
My stained glass design
mixed metallic salts
fortified at melting point,
colour forever permanent
to mark my very being.
You dipped your brush
on a pallet of your vision
and Trust let you paint over
my very soul,
creamy light forever fleeing.
Your paint, by the very nature
of it belonging to you,
curator of my love,
fused to my glass
as if cooked in a kiln of fire.
Never could I have believed
you to devise a colour
so terrible and diseased
that sickness would filter
where light used to transpire.
Stained glass window,
more true the words appear,
But where others fear
I can shatter my own
glass or heart or soul
and clean the tarnish
by leaving out every piece
you painted with twisted stroke
and amass myself together
until the colour of my light is whole.
Copyright © Krystal Cochrane | Year Posted 2010
The spring is coming in a slow pace,
But I can sense something in the air,
Something coming out of nowhere,
I stood in front of the elevator on the third
floor in a nice old hotel,
Going to a small diner with friends,
Some nice food and wine to fill my soul with
The door opened, and I saw a man inside,
Thinking how I must have lost my mind, after
so many years, it can’t be You,
And I stood frozen, and You stood frozen,
Until the grey metal doors closed and brought
me back from the Universe of lost souls,
I run downstairs to stop you leave,
Seeing unfamiliar faces, seeking for you - my
ghost from the past,
While You pushed the elevator button many
times, screaming loudly: go up, third floor,
now, go, move… Is it her, or I’m loosing my
And the doors opened, but nobody was there,
You couldn't find me- your lost love, your
ghost from the Universe of lost souls.
I screamed, You screamed,
We screamed in an erupting pain so the whole
Universe can hear us,
Could it be that we lost each other again?
I took the stairs and went up,
I could feel how our pain reunites,
I could feel that a lost soul is shouting three
And I saw You on your knees staring in the
And You felt my presence coming from
You felt my steps getting closer,
And You stood up,
Seeing tears coming from my eyes,
While I touched yours going through your
We didn't say a word,
But our minds were talking,
We didn't say a word,
But our eyes were walking us through our
We didn't say a word,
But our hands....
Our hands united,
Our souls united breaking these cold hotel
Breaking the ice around our harts,
Breaking the past,
Amusing the whole Universe of lost souls!
Copyright © Jelena Krasic | Year Posted 2013
A word was softly spoken
Causing beautiful inner
Feelings to seed and grow
As they began traveling
To waiting ears hoping,
That a special heart might
Come to know.
The glorious intent of the
Message he sent, hoping it
Would open her mind so
She would see…
What he was desperately
Trying to say to her heart,
Because for her love he
Had a desperate need.
He had spent the night before
In quiet dreams, trying to
Think of the right words which
Would turn her smile his way…
And the next morning his efforts
Were rewarded, as his words
Came together bearing fruitful
Seed this day.
When her heart heard his
Delightful message of deep
Longing, her spirit was now
Moved to really believe...
That there was now a true hope
For love to begin, in a place where
She thought it would never
And she told him also of secret
Feelings she had, for her
Hidden dreams were always
Of loving him.
And she gave his heart the
Thrill of a lifetime, saying
Because of his sincere love
She was also ready to begin
A lifetime of love together.
Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2013