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Prose Poetry Love Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Love

These Prose Poetry Love poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Love. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Love poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

She read me Dr Seuss

6:35 A.M.

Sunrise against my neck
that no cheap tan booth could ever match.

I ring the doorbell in anticipation of joy’s injection.

I needed it.

Because I left my cell phone in the car,
as I didn’t want to hear any chimed email
or text annoyances.

And the car just got cleaned,
only for the birds to have their way
on its waxy shine.


Time to grab the flamethrower from my trunk!

But, before I could scream in Braveheart declaration,
there she was.

Her 6 yr old smile,
made of 1/4 inch gaps between innocence enamel,
captured me like no other could.

“Tio”, she preached in angelica sonata.

As she held me,
held me,
with puppy love warmth.

Even the rainbows fell to its knees.

She took off my jacket with ferret-like perkiness and
asked me to sit on the floor with her.

But, not before offering to toast me some Eggo waffles
with a big glass of Ovaltine…
…in her Little Mermaid glass,
proudly made in North Korea.

It even had the dictator’s initials and a bucktooth smiley face stamp, signed in glitter
that said:

Thank God I just took my online course in Child Safety.
I was ready!

As I sip on Little Mermaid’s curves,
shaped in plastic, swirly straw weirdness,
a sound blasts off from a Barbie radio.

My 2 yr old angel galloped into this heart of mine,
with Tinnitus piercing scream & laughter,
tackling me in Incredible Hulk lunge.

“Hi Tio”, she whispered, before she hopped back upstairs, 
Ninja Turtle-style,
laughing maniacally with rapid head tilts, left to right to left.

Boys will fear her. 
And I couldn’t be more proud.

After two moments of silence, 
my 6 yr old angel places her Dr. Seuss book on my lap,
as she sits in front of me.

“I can r-r-read
with my eye-s

She carefully completed the sentence,
as my eyes instantly fill with leaky pride
and an ingrained smile.

10 minutes later, she shut her book and asked me how she did.
“I am so proud of you my angel.”
“You have come so far.”

I had to hold back tears because I didn’t want to throw her off.
Yet I think she knew,
because she kept her head down and smiled with gentle starburst.

Mission accomplished.

And it was then where I heard her say,
“Those who matter don’t mind,
those who mind don’t matter.”

But she was quiet, looking at me with tilted head & smile.

For it was my inner child, 

© Drake J. Eszes

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I asked to my father
Baba, What is life ?
He politely said to me, " Life is Duty . "

I asked to my mother
Maa, What is life ?
She said to me with smile, " Life is Responsibility . "

I asked to my teacher
Sir, What is life ?
He said to me with love, " Life is Education . "

I asked to my spiritual master
Gurujee, What is life ?
He said to me with confidence, " Life is Devotion . "

Today my son who reads in class nine
Asked me
Babai, What is life ?
I have said to him, " Dear, You are my life . "


( Father means BABA, BABAI and Mother means MAA in Bengali language .  Gurujjee means spiritual master in Indian society ) 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

If Not

If not passion then desire, that fills 
this heart with fire. At last this heart
has found that hallowed ground at
your side, that place of dreams. 
Where the deepness of my love is
borne on wings of angels, where
the words of  love tumble, fall as
blossom at your feet. Sincerity
lingers like a fragrance, warm and
inviting, soft as that first kiss. That
first kiss built on the foundations 
of forever, of beating hearts in
perfect time. There is passion, there
is desire, but it is the true essence
of love that kindles the emotions
within this heart. Swaying to and fro
like poppies in an open field, this
open field a vastness of the purest 
love. Horizons to be reached, wishes
and dreams to be achieved. With
this in mind I forget time and dream
of you in eternity.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

When the Time is Right

For nearly 45 years I never spoke of  that day; the emotional pain was too great.
I simply hid it in the lining of my soul, knowing in my heart you didn’t stand
a chance with me as I stood in the rubble of my life and let you go, wrapped
in my heart with a wish and a prayer- all I had to give. And for 45 years, 
I dreamed of you and me playing in fields of daisies under blue skies as
I cried inside, wondering where you where, and if there was a part of you  
that somehow would remember me- would remember the bond we made 
in that single moment we shared together, when the nurse held you up to the
nursery window for me to see as I  stood on wobbly legs, with my trembling 
hands holding unto a pole with a dripping IV?

I prayed. Lord! How I prayed that someday, by the grace of  God, 
you’d come back to me when the time was right. 

So I lived my life. Got back up and crawled out of the rubble that was me, 
and lived with half a heart that somehow still managed to beat.

With the passing of  time, I bloomed; sometimes red, sometimes blue when I thought of all the years we could have shared as I sat and listened to family and friends 
tell me of the joyful times they shared with their children, grandchildren 
and great-grandchildren as, I  smiled and  cried inside and dreamed of you, 
and all the years of your life I  missed and, all the years I would never know. 
It was then I realized I was a very lonely soul. So, I wrote and wrote and
wrote, never suspecting for a moment that  nearly 45 years later,
you would find me through a poem I wrote for you.

I know I can never replace the mother and father who raised you, for the bonds
of time shared  are  much stronger than blood. Yet knowing what a wonderful 
women you turned out to be, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate  
and now with a daughter  of your own, is enough for me, and someday  
when the time is right for you, I hope and pray , we will meet again.


                                                 Elaine George 

This is a true story.  It was through this forum ( poetrysoup ) my birth daughter found me. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Farewell

                      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.
                                     Therese Bacha
                                     24 August 2014

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Love is like a fire
It often expires
A comfort that revives
Your tender soul alive.

A blind joy soaring
The loveless signs ignoring
It rises high with freedom's grace
To spring a blush upon your face.

Love is sweet like antique wine  
It breaks the fetters of loveless mind.
Love is loving all the time
Love is a spirit unconfined.

Love is a constant kindness
A joyful untamed madness.
Love jealous not
Or is a selfish glut.

Love is a divine quality
Expressed in purity!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Best Friend

I had nowhere to turn, had nowhere to go, this is just something ,I think you need to know! I don't know what made me trust you, I still remember the day, when I told what I had been through! I thought, I should jump off, or go hide in a hole, but then I followed whatever you told!
As each day grew longer, my trust became stronger! Each time I wanted to cry, you stayed there right by my side!
Then I moved to the twelveth grade, I was really afraid, that my trust would slowly fade, But I was very wrong, the bond is still strong!
Eventhough you don't have time, you atleast ask me if I am fine! You are just seen for a while,with your contagious smile! And then you walk away and you are out of sight, I smile and then things are allright!
I am so glad,that only you were there when I was sad! You are the one on whom I can always depend, And this is what makes you...MY BEST FRIEND

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Loss of Innocence

I remember…

Shimmering gold ribbons
Draped over the 
Glassy surface of the bay of Fundy
On a black see through
Summer night

I was new to love
Shy beneath your penetrating gaze
At a loss for words

And you…
Telling me my eyes spoke volumes
And the tears that welled up in them 
Against my will
Eventually falling over the edge of innocence
Into adolescence 
As your whispers
And my sighs
Melted on the rippling crest 
Of  those waves
That came softly 
To break upon the shore
As the pale moon looked down 
In utter silence

Author:  Elaine George
Written: June, 2014

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My True Love

  I Love Him.

I will dream of him
lighting up my darkness,
covering me with his perfume
go crazy with love, 
and make our life sufficient
gentle and persevering.

It is time to look outside
and feel fearless,
face what I fear the most,
and when the fog's lights will
move in through my window,
its time for me to move on,
to make choices that I can
live with.

I am the reason why my shadows
are awake, I must find a new way
not to look backwards.
I am only human, I need to recover
from going to one extreme
 to the other.

I will look like a fierce 
passionate woman;
away, away I'll fly towards him,
hold him so tight,
together, we hear each other's groan, 
watch our lustrous eyes
 until dawn.
Allow our secret impulses,
urge our desire to land 
in each other's trembling

I'll tell him, "Listen to me. This night 
will be different." 
With the sigh of our breathing
echoing melodies will be sweet,
but those unheard will be sweeter.
Love me, the very word will sound
like a bell tolling me back towards you, 
you, my sole lover.

How I wish to feel the infinite love 
while settling together in my garden,
watch his divine face as an illusion
beneath that joyous veil.
Forbid the roses to miss the spring 
as their harmonious values,
lives in our souls.

Forbid our garden not to agonize
without the light of love, 
prevent the branches on the 
trees from suffocating,
without the light of love.
Prevent our clouds from separating
before taking with them, 
our light of love.
We will take the stand
to forbid the darkness,
and proclaim the 
light of love.

That's where the key is, 
if the light of love opens 
a door to our tranquility,
feeling safe, our love will 
become our strength.
Still together for,
forty five years. 

Written By
Therese Bacha
August 18 2014

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mother Teresa and I

Mother Teresa
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...

Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...

She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...

One day, I was twelve years old
I met  her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.

I told her only the sentences, 
'You are the mother of the world, 
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'

My father hesitated. My mother was silent.

Mother Teresa said to me with smile, 

Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you. 
I love you so much....


(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".

Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)

Details | Prose Poetry | |


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 

(c) 2010

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“Peace” whispered a child. It was an arbitrary gust that carried the word to a 
young man who repeated it out loud in a very positive tone. “Peace” he said and 
the message caught the ear of a sprite old man.

Loudly he spoke into a fast moving breeze “Peace’ he declared and the air 
carried the communication miles dropping it into thousands of ears.

“Peace” roared the crowd and the word grew wings and flew into a hurricane 
that echoed in the ears of the masses.

Millions uttered “Peace” and in an irony of nature the moving wings of a tiny 
hummingbird sent the expression on a trip that encompassed the whole planet. 
The declaration fell on every ear and every person was sure their God had 
spoken to them.

Maybe he had because from that day on every human had the spirit of peace in 
the blood that flowed through their hearts. Peace was now the liquid that 
sustained them and with it they could explore the beauty that existed both 
within and outside of them.

“Love” whispered a child. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Certainty and the Shade of Seven More Months.

He's infuriatingly...


and I follow myself over his smile to find my eyes, promising uncertainty and chewing on
my bottom lip with the hunger that resides in...


He rolled me over and kissed my dreams, his mouth became my salvation and I nailed myself
to the bedpost as we made love, my legs became morning while I screamed midnight to the

and I had never seen such a beautiful sunrise, I had never seen the beginning color herself so

I told him, as our eyes appeared shallow, as the light dimmed and he breathed summer on my

“Blue is blue, Dear, don't try to shade it with red.”

But he explained to me the art of bruises, he informed me the results were beautiful, and
he held up a mirror to my unmarked skin, places where the black and blue and...


has dissipated...

while he sheltered my chest with his hand, covering my heart with his palm, and told me
the results still beat...

I cried, tears of the rain that once fell in April, and he held me, time slipping between
us, beads of sweat that spoke eternity and seven more months, and I spoke silently so he
could hear me, I whispered his name...

“God, you're beautiful,” he said on the second I realized the sadness had left me, that
she had found content and was studying the games we never played with the fascination of a
child, I touched his cheek with the surreal movements that occur when one has fallen and
been caught and smiled at the thought of us...

I sacrificed my pain that night, I handed it straight over to midnight when the day broke,
I blended the sunrise with blue and watched the sky turn purple with him right beside me,
I counted the minutes to eternity and he laughed at my obsessions as he told me I was...


as he drank my belief off my left shoulder with a kiss...

and I looked at him, in the light, my eyes deep with the memories of the sea, as I kissed
him, with a certainty I never questioned as tomorrow started forever...

and he would live inside me
for seven

Details | Prose Poetry | |


                                     THEY SMILED EYE TO EYE

                                         They smiled eye to eye
                                   As if they met a millennium after 
                                      Strolling down into the valley

                                             They were silent
                                       Touching each other's arm
                                         Quiet flowed the breeze

                                They saw their images in the blue lake
                            Shy moon slipped behind the curtain of mist
                                      Little ripples met each other 

                               Their steps heard the whisper of wind
                                       And stopped short to listen
                                       What she said to the world

                               The road met with rambling forest paths
                                       They stopped near a grove
                                     And kissed each other goodbye
                                      A baby bird cried out in dream.

 © Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 18 September, 2014

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Forever Love

FOREVER LOVE one and only........Margie

 love's music echoes timeless
 spring fed      it flows forever

 Pop would get up early, make Mom's hand-mixed
 favorite black and green tea, and when ready,
 he walked down the hallway tinkling her teacup
 with a spoon, gently waking her.

 When he came home each day
 he'd whistle the tune......
 " I love you ......"
 alerting her that he was near.

 On occasion, his mood would be jubilant
 upon arriving home,
 just like his favorite basketball team,
 The 'Harlem Globetrotters'

 Mom was Dad's whole world,
 I could hear his expectant excitement
 in the tone of his remarkable whistling
 whenever I pushed him down the hallway
 in his wheelchair, knowing his one and only
 lifelong love would soon be in sight.

 He couldn't mix and brew her favorite tea
 anymore, or wake her with her tinkling teacup,

 but until the end, he could still whistle!

 .....and man! 

                       could he whistle!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Language Barrier

I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,

at least not all of it,

but the emotion pouring past her lips, 

the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists

enunciated more clearly,

than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,

and grabbed me, held me still.

                   …In that moment, her soul was in my arms.

In that finite, tender breath of our lives,

she was my mother, my best friend…

but I could not console her. 

I didn’t have the words;

and my heart sank into the 

concrete between us,

wet with the pain of God’s rain

and her tears. 

                  …Were my tears

So, I simply opened my palms

toward her crouched form and 

spoke the only words I could 

fathom, that would be accepted

by a stranger on a dangerous street. 

"I am sorry, It will be okay. God will bless you."

I knew she did not understand…

"Lo siento" 

                  “que va a estar bien”    

                            “Dios te bendecira’ “ 

the words were as messy as the overturned

duffle bag at her feet…and fumbled, slowly

from my lips, as my knees hit the street.

Two strangers, cried in the rain,

knowing nothing of each other’s suffering,

and yet we shared the weight,

together, for those few moments;

the barrier of language was broken.

Love spoke for us.  

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

…Love transcends any language


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Think of Me

Think of me and smile
Our time was shortly spent
Think for just a while
Of all the things we meant………
To each other we were Love, 
Laughter, Smiles and Joy
Think of all those things
Then think of us once more

Remember our first kiss
Remember our first time
Remember I was yours, 
Remember you were mine
The things that we would say
The things we use to do 
I heard you sing a song
I wrote a poem for you
Didn’t think we’d be together
Didn’t seek, but we did find
A precious hidden treasure
A love so true and kind

Now when the Angels come for me
My home now in the sky
Don’t hang your head in sorrow
For me don’t even cry
I will send a signal
And you will know the sign
The Sun will shine its brightest
The humming birds will sing
Midnight will be the darkest
Think of all those things

The wind will blow so gently
I’ll Whisper in your ear
You will smell the roses 
And feel my presence near
For you have known my spirit
For you have only seen
The beam of light now shinning
A dream that came to be
So just in case you’re wondering
It’s not because I’m free
But that I caught you smiling
And I knew, you had thought of me.

Patricia Templeton

"Women Only"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Enjoying Love So Undeserving

What sustains Life like water? What is as fresh and welcoming like the countryside? And as sweet as a newly made confectionery baked with honey? I just found one well placed in all corners of your heart. A feeling encompassing the goodness of life. Is it the blissful visitation to the tenants of the deep blue sea? Or a radiant rainbow floating in the moist skies? Is it red roses, milk Sunflowers and other colorful plants in pink, green and yellow? Or the site of a happy set of little quintuplet siblings? Is it the baby chicks peeping out from their nest to spy on the first morning rising sun? They all are no where near the unbelievable goodness of your love. Sweetheart! You are a majestic glamor full of gracious providence. Not even the magneting beauty of the Queen Cleopatra can be compared to the pillars of your virtues which prove to overcome time's curfew eclipsing my heart totally as I soak in the foam of your passions. A natural habitat have I found in the gardens of your affection and a new existence from the deep baptism of your unequaled care. I never believed a star could be as near but here I am; with a being who outshines a galaxy. My soul has lost records of its bountiful happiness from this train of love with the wish its rails are never ending and its journey, everlasting.

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Precious Treasure

How blessed I'm that You are in my life. I honored to be a part of you. When the sun going beyond The horizon, The moon late too To arise, Within the luster of evening, Your aura fills the scene. I can honestly say My dream has come true And you would never believe How much I love you. I hear the tenderness of your smile, I hear the softness of your voice, Your whispers are gentle echoes It will blaze so brightly That it's warmth lingers in my heart, Beckon my tired soul and Embrace me in its radiance. Your skin, your hair All so soft and fine How lucky am I That you are all mine. How lovely the music of your heart, The hugs, the kisses. The most precious treasure I have seized for ever. I searched the deep sea blue, I love you baby, my prize is you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Estaba lleno el Verano /Der Sommer war voll/The Summer Was Full

Estaba lleno el verano,
Estaba lleno el verano
de flores, de deseos
como un espejo de cristáles azules,
reflejando los sueños 
y el suave color del cielo,
estaba lleno el verano
con nuestro amor.

El color de las casas 
antiguas de Oxford,
limpias como después
de una lluvia de leche,
blancas y maravillosas.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestro amor
y de canciones.
Estaba lleno el verano
de calles angustas y cerradas.

Estaba lleno el verano
de espuma, de murallas antiguas,
de música abandonada y olvida.

Estaba lleno el verano
y nuestro amor hize brillar
los sitios como la nieve
hace blanquear las estrellas
en noches de invierno.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestros deseos,
lleno de flores frescas 
de un paraiso extraño.

Estaba lleno éste verano,
lleno de abrazos y besos de nuestros corazónes.


Der Sommer war voll,
der Sommer war voll
mit Blumen, mit Wünschen
wie ein Spiegel aus blauen Kristallen,
der Wünsche wiederspiegelt,
der Sommer war voll mit unserer Liebe.

Die Farben der alten
Häuser Oxfords,
sauber, wie nach einem Regen
aus Milch,
weiß und herrlich.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unserer Liebe
und von Gesang.
Der Sommer war voll
von engen, verschlossenen Gassen.

Der Sommer war voll
von Schaum, altem Gemäuer,
von vergessener, verlorener Musik.

Der Sommer war voll
und unsere Liebe ließ die Plätze erstrahlen
wie der Schnee 
die Sterne erstrahlen lässt
in Winternächten.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unseren Sehnsüchten,
von frischen Blumen 
eines fremden Paradieses,
voller Umarmungen und voll der Küsse unserer Herzen.


The summer was full with
flowers and dreams
like a mirror of  blue crystals,
reflecting dreams
and the soft colour of  the sky.
The summer was full with our love.
The colour of the ancient houses of Oxford,
neat as after a rain of milk,
white and wonderful.
The summer was full 
With our love and songs.
The summer was full with 
narrow, crowded streets.
The summer was full with
the foam of old walls,
full of forgotten and old tunes.
Our love threw light over the sites,
like snow let shine the stars 
in winter nights.
The summer was full with our desires
and fresh flowers 
of an unknown paradise.
The summer was full 
with our kisses
and with our hearts.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

In the Meadow

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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love letter - the island of our love - Part one

There is an island, the isle of trials and denials. I knew it well; for it was there that
I entered this world, into an environment of anger and argument. Of imprisonment and high
expectations, driven by questionable motives and an absence of love. Surrounded by an
unreasonable sea to protect against the threat of friendship. Threat to whom? I never saw
any winners in this game of nurture, if nurture is what it was. But I have no regrets. I
point no finger. I cast no blame. Maybe I was the winner, because I never lost faith. To
me, the island was the island of hope. Hope never failed to fill me with optimism.
Optimism filled me with enthusiasm. Enthusiasm filled me with ambition and passion. I
believed in myself. I believed in the possibility of love. Belief enabled me to dream. To
dream of how love could be. Should be. But I never believed, would be.

I accepted that true love was the rarest of all flowers; that I would never be granted the
privilege to hold it in my arms; to witness its beauty with my own eyes; to become
intoxicated through its sweet heady scent. The abundance of love, honour and respect in my
heart, would never lie its head on the soft breast of its mate. But, at least, I would
have experienced some small glimpse of love in my hope filled dreams.

Now, I look back and wonder how I could have been so ready to loosen my hold on all that I
hoped for; all that I wanted; all that I needed. For you have shown me the true meaning of
love. You have given me unbelievable happiness. You have opened my eyes. I have discovered
that the love we have is bigger, better, more intense, more beautiful, more intimate, and
more precious, than anything I could ever have dreamed or hoped for. You have made me feel
like I have never felt in my life before. You have taken me to heights and places I have
never been before. I am filled with such deep and unconditional love, honour and respect
for you. My eyes fill with tears of joy as I write to you; as I think of you.


Details | Prose Poetry | |


? ...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.. ? ? ?

(re-edited letter)

Details | Prose Poetry | |


When job positions within monopolies prevent us from working together
towards a goal far greater than lining the pockets of a few,
when schools stop us from educating ourselves,
and are instead, assembly lines churning-out tin soldiers,
when governments prevent humanity from achieving self-determination,
when media keeps us informed about current events,
rather than us becoming involved in the events,
then only in resistance will we find each other;
will we find ourselves in the purest sense. 

The masqued ones are erasing themselves
within a society in which everything is under surveillance,
measured, quantified and appraised,
where everything is determined by resumes,
credit history, internet profiles.
Background checks, gossip columns, intelligence agencies,
conspire to drag every last detail out into the open.

The masqued ones live in an in-between world
being squeezed by other worlds.
It is a world existing in the hope of understanding reality, 
by changing reality.
If the powers that be, can reveal the hidden world,
dragging it out under the searing spotlight of scrutiny,
under the spotlight of current mass-ideology,
then one more possible world reality becomes extinct
under the boots of Fascists using the freedom of speech
to silence the freedoms of everyone else;
eventually, even including themselves.

The controllers want to show there are no unchartered paths
leading away from the programmable masses of mundanity.
Therefore, the masque is seductive to those not fully conditioned
to become blind sheep led by shepherds, towards the slaughter.
The masque suggests mystery, unknowns,
alternative endings to a story covered in mildew.
The masque symbolizes a threat to an entrenched establishment.
The masque becomes the chrysalis in which a pupa
can evolve into something different; into something new. warrens deep below,
Babylon-kids write love songs,

and above ground, people preach rights and freedoms, 
while enslaving the world in the chains of a democracy
that has never truly existed.

Democracy is a dream turned nightmare,
so the Babylon-kids are keeping the dream
of a choose-your-own-adventure, alive.



Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE RAIN by Anna Lo P

"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

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love letter - the island of our love - Part two


And now, I find myself on a new island. An island more beautiful, more amazing, and more
wonderful, than any mind alone could imagine. An island that can only exist when two
minds, two hearts, and two bodies become one, through unselfish love and mutual respect.
An island surrounded by a sea of tranquility and endless possibilities; an island of
permanent warmth, trust and safety. For you are me and I am you and we are us, intimately
bound. Undemanding. Supportive. Sharing and caring. Our island is perfect because of its

It is not without its trials and challenges. I do not know how I will survive while we are
apart, but I know we will leave a part of ourselves with each other. That we will feel
each other physically, mentally, and spiritually, in our bodies, minds, hearts and souls.
That, in some powerful sense, we will still be together. Will still be one. That our love
will grow. That our hearts will forever know true joy, true happiness, and true love. I
love our island. I love our life together. I love you. Now, always, and forever.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Is My Heaven

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3

~Blind am I to be of love? Here be mortal eyes, seeing with mine heart. Whereupon earth, I behold her at all times. There in deep pools, from pebble tossed, the rippling flow of her hair. There, where lies the dew upon the buds. Her moist red lips awaiting my favor. In the courtyard fountain's purl, tis the beauty of her laughter. All about me is her visage, from waking morn, to deep twilight. Even the moon does look upon me. Gently caressing my face and does kiss me with her light. Blind to love I cannot be. Not when her love is my world, my eyes, my heart, my very being.~
For the contest, Romeo And Juliet; How Tragic Love Is

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Want To Invent You

I'd do anything To gaze at a Full moon in the sky Studded with the stars At night. I'd do anything For all the beautiful Things in the world Which make me Smile and happy. Even a rainbow, a butterfly. But I know, I'm with the Gods Most beautiful and Precious creation, That's you My rose of dawn, My beloved. I love you babe. Your company is soothing, Calming and reassuring inside. You are like the bubbles Of the fountain I moisten. Your enchanting smile Makes an illusion. An angelic presentation In your appearance Which captivate me, Makes me more attentive. Bit by bit I begin to recognize you. My princess, my angel I carefully watch your Billowing, beautiful creature Like my poetry. My love, the fantasy I want to invent you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Book of Soul for The Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber
A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds

A diorama played by shadow
A story with no beginning nor end
They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray
The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy

Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached
Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen 
They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace

And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time

This time someone seized by the story of a root baste
Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness
This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love
Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth

And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone

Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder
Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees 
Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek
But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story

From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light

This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers
This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony
A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy
In that house she knelt, release all her mess
To the house the journey was anchored

In every sketches that have been through
None could live without the presence of others too

Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house
Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life
Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity
Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot

They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls
Not as a complement nor as a reserves
Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story

Details | Prose Poetry | |

love ewe and blue

love ewe and blue 

aer rhyming words true
there is always inflection and poor attitude
limits of knowledge above snobbish refrains
trains run on time only in the movies
movies run on time only in a small town
there is very few movies shown on trains
blue can be an attitude blue can be a heart
love you can be used to start a heart apart from you
as you watch the blue southern train depart
from the blue stunted depot with the board walk floor
the little blue conductor yelling all aboard her
as the train takes the love and makes your attitude blue
soup mix tastes so wordy so blue so true and good
with a doubly heaping helping of a love ewe attitude

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Disappear

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

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Angel with a Broken Wing

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"?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Feel The Same My Baby

Your loveliness, Your voice, Your tone of skin, The color of your lips, The softness of your Careless beauty, All are memories etched Into my mind and soul. I suffer everyday, I love you babe. Even though so far away Alone at night When I look to the sky And think about you, Then ask myself why ? I'm in love with you. I have a picture of you Scorched in my mind Only to find you, Even in the collyrium, Lamp-black darkness. Your love surrounds me Stupendous galore. A sense of completion And overflowing pride. Feel the same my babe You are loved so much. __________________ Thank you for reading. Chitta.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Last memory

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…
Just once…
Dance with me one last time
Beside the oceans blue
Come back to life…
Give me one last memory of you

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 4

	Of course on this night we are supposed to be asleep so Santa 
could come, but we hadn't been home from Midnight Mass very long, and the 
invigorating cold was not conducive to sleep.  Even the hot chocolate did not do 
much to help sedate the excitement.
	We were hoping for sleds that year.  The snow was perfect for 
sledding especially like we did it.  We tied out sleds on behind the car or pick up 
and were pulled through the hills.  We got our sleds.  My dad and my uncle made 
them for us.
	No television and only in the late years were we allowed to use the 
radio.  Batteries were to expensive for frivolous use.  We spent many hours 
playing cards or games.
	I took time out and went to high school and college and got my 
teaching certificate.
	My aunt taught there only one year after the Federal Government 
turned the schools over to the local government.
	The last time I was back there the out buildings had been moved and 
Indian families were living in them.  The school was dirty and unkept.
	Now the school is gone.  The ancestors who once walked these 
dusty plains are gone.  The Indians who were there when I was a child are gone.
	They are Ghosts.  Ghosts whose faces can be seen in the clouds.  
Ghosts  who still chop wood on those sub zero nights.  And the drums we heard 
in the middle of the nights are still beating.  They beat as strongly as the heart 
beats in a healthy body.  The laughter of the children still echoes under the 
	The life blood of a culture, of a nation grows thin.  The Battle of 
Wounded Knee was the last battle to be fought  between the white man and the 
Indian on the northern plains.  It's cries still echo across the land.
	My foot prints in the creek did not last any longer than those they left 
in the dust.  But in my memories, this mile and a half by three quarter mile haven 
still lives.  And will live forever as a piece of unrecorded history.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Shelter


When I sink in your deep blue eyes,
You grow within my soul and mind
Let your wet tongue rest for a moment
 in my mouth and towards my face 

When I seek shelter in your arms 
You grow within my heart and body 
Let your low limbs cross in me to climb 
widely spreading branches for a shade 

When I burrow into your soft breasts
you retire from parched and barren air 
let your milk drops to my drought lips 
Crawling for a shelter from all storm

Williamsji Maveli

Details | Prose Poetry | |

~ For Her ... For Me ~

~ If were I to have my way ... the-welcome-of- those ten days, then I'd be sure, she would know. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My love the fairest dream-of all-I-wanted-to share the-one- held-so-dear ... that I-couldn't let-go-of-for anyone, but her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ As-yes plain-rides-come-to-mind-jet setting buried love and ~ daily qualms-the-quiet-suicides was all that came of those days, and because-I-have-come-to-find-parachutes are an option only for those-that-are of the living, and not for-those-walking-alone ~~~~ within themselves already-reeling from their regrets. ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Because I too exist-myself ... as I walk this valley, of the ~~ dead; and so it has become for me my own personal, peculiar quark of-twisted providence, the evidence of my-fait that all circles are not the same or brand entirely, nor an entity within themselves ... completely whole, because my experience has shown, that they too; given-the proper-vexing; like me ... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ can be broken. ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Your Blue Eyes

Where does this come from....
Were we educated at some time
And forgotten...
No.. we weren't....

We were royalty of a kind....
Welsh and proud... 
Roman blood we had in us...
From time long past...

Pagan...Yes we were
And proud of the past
But we lost our future 
to churches Lust.

But I have to say
to this very day....
That my mothers song
Fills my every day...

To be happy...and smile and sing
Is my legacy...from times
When we danced at the
Full moon...

Never to think of the past
But feel what is before us....
And sing....As there is
Nothing more important
Than the sunrise....
In a meadow...
On a hill.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Myth Uncovered

To love another more than life itself...

Is sweet bereavement...Sealed within
loves kiss...

...A love so deep...fathomed in oceans...
only truth can find...

A myth uncovered - discovered over time...

...To relish in this beauty...way beyond compare...

...To look into the eyes of an angel...
...Mornings first light...

...We feel with hearts despair...

...For we nurture this...

...This love we believe has found its way here...

...We cherish everyday...
...this love beyond compare...

...Immortal wish bestow...

....For we love in tomorrows tomorrow...

...This life this love we celebrate...

these two souls love has found...

...this life - this love...

...this love itself creates...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

WAKE UP by Anna Lo P

"Wake up, wake up" my sleepyhead Turk
"Wake up, wake up" my dear sleeping beau
each time I do this, I am so happy
because finally I can see 
your sweet smiles, intended just for me.

Yes, your smile, smiles that make me smile
though it really wasn't there for me to see
because you're so far away, lands & seas
I just close my eyes so I can see it 
with all my heart, I believe it.

"Wake up, wake up" so i say, again & again
and that your consciousness can be regain
staying you awake I always intend to do
so you can hear me say "ILOVEYOU" so true..

..xoxo my dear "YASAMAK"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Winter of deception

The eddy pulls hard against my torso
panic rises and surfaces, my vsion starts to zigzag
I swim harder in the strong currents of confusion

How did my life become a battle
My father once seemed to love all his children
Now where is the love?
We have to be the dictator to prevent suicide/murder
Begrudgingly he submits to the will of the family
Unforgiving, ungrateful, rebellious
time has the last laugh, my son shouts
I hate you, I never loved you, you are so mean!!
My father shouts, you don't love me, you just want my stuff
You are so selfish!
Tears fall....A heart breaks!

Will this trial end?

Mother says, my daughter has not been to see me in so long, I want to see my baby.
Mom I am here, I was here yesterday! I brought you food! don't you remember?

Life cycles around the eddy, swirls and swirls with no end...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Kis

A Kis



 Do eye need a kis. Eye need a girl to kis. Eye have a girl that eye can kis. 
Eye have kis her in the rain. Eye have kis her in mye heart. Eye have kis her in 
mye start of every day for years of love. Eye have only to the kis to go to read more 
into kis to find the place she dwells in this old mortal frame of yearning 
dwelling place. The kis is purple bliss of alarm blazing love waking me from 
death like a Snow White Charmed young man a captive smith to Pocahontas 
fame. A dandelion flower lost in the caverns of the depths Ianthe drowning mee 
in sea ward tufts of left and right bouts of beating on the air to keep from sliding 
to the depths of drowning in her arms of love. A leap at faith a death reprieved 
from Grounded Grave a leaping portent making waves of Gragon wings. An 
attitude of love refrained in every tuft of wind again the sound of love the beating 
of the water on the roof of tin the sound of kis inside the wind and rain. A younger 
man and woman would have hardware in the way the nose and yes the nose gay 
and the corners of the vampyrific fangs. The center of the tongue is one the belly 
button too. The snooker table has a cue it’s called the ball extender bridge it's a 
cheater it’s made to let the basest man to reach her in the wind. There is so 
many problems with people the gas is oughta sight at the pumps this country is 
no longer prominent but a third world country going south. The end of time has 
come and arrived the ruthless and worthless rule in the name of god money and 
time. Take a number wait in line what’s your name please fill this out and wait. 
The number of his namme. Have you got a credit card or payment of any kind iff 
you can give me seven dollars for an office visit eye will help you the doctor is inn. 
The man was lighting a candle in front of the computer and the lieberrian asked 
him what do you think you are doing he said eye cannot see the screen. There is 
not very many rich people in all those cars on the highway whizzing by the most of 
them is middle class or less the plastic hose on the back seat is a siphon they 
use it to get gas. Eye had too many problems at home growing up to ever be a 
father. The age factor plus the drug indicator keeps me from trying to further my 
benefactor with fodder or with mudder. The morality of this hurried fable of 
dividing documents is this a kis. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Dance

She carries dinner and sweet tea
to her man in the field
as purple hews of sunset
streak down mountain sides.

An evening breeze is welcomed,
cooling the damp dress
clinging to her shape
in the shadow of night.

Darkness settles over Heaven and Earth,
bare feet caress rich soil
as bodies held tight in rhythmic embrace--

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Crystal Clear

The window guys came to install the new glass. They took away the old glass that had become filled with moisture. The seals had failed, the result of nineteen years of Okanagan sun beating down on them. It's funny how we don't notice how things deteriorate over time, it happens so gradually, then one day you wake up and see and wonder why it took you so long to notice. I have had this happen with relationships so now I am ever vigilant when it comes to the ones I love. Unlike my windows I don't wish them to be replaced or perhaps I should worry that they may wish to replace me. The light is now shining into our home and as I look at my wife I smile and we look out the window together.  The view seems better with someone I love by my side.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Are So Far, Yet So Near

Underneath the bright moon-light The stars glittering on the sky, I alone with a phone in hand Awaiting for a ring. It's like an unseen shadow Which lies within us, It's like a new-born stream Which flows before us. The distance is no matter, The language is not burden, No matter how much tired we are, No matter how much busy we are. That sound of hushed laughter Over phone, A sweet, melodious sound from far, Seems so near and close to my heart. Minutes into hours over phone Fills me and my empty heart. It's like a new adventure, The time for you and me, Dancing the rhythm of Love over phone Which overwhelmed me. I love you much than The sun loves the moon. Much than the sea loves The sound of a river.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love In Reverse

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 
for me.

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 
in my
dreams without knowing your face 
Just an image of an unknown 
purpose that
lives around the corner of time and 
It is there, on this blind faith avenue, 
that I
 will carry you back home from the 
life we 
never had the chance to live...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mama's Song

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!!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Collecting the Cracks that Bleed Through My Voice.

We broke in two and it amused him that I was still counting...

I could hear the night whisper beyond his ears, the bed we lay ourselves down upon and
passion was considerate when his mind let go....

she was direct and unforgiving and I...

I could listen to the tumbling of my heart for ages and I collected music as my lips split
in half, it was only to kiss him, you see, only to allow him to know...

how I bled.

I tasted myself as the night wore on, exhausted yet hungry for his arms, I studied my own
in the afternoon, multiplied my freckles and wondered if my child would be ashamed of the
scars that decorated my skin, prayed she would never know how years could bite, so I
reached for him when the clouds became cold and I became...


as I frightened myself to death in the realization that we....

were still so alive.

The ground we walked on spoke of faults and mistakes, there were cracks in the earth yet
my hand still held his, he was clueless and I was silent but we slept well, he and I,
after passion erupted and the sky split...

when the clouds collected my music and rain sang, just to show him, how the days

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Haven't Left

You haven’t left my heart
You haven’t left my mind
I’m just trying
To give you some time
Something happened in your life
You don’t care to explain
Or just can’t talk about
Until you feel the time is right
It’s o.k. my friend
I can understand
Just don’t think of my silence
As coming from an uncaring heart
For I would freely give
All that I’ve got and am
To be by your side
To be your confidant
For you mean much more to me
Than a simple hello
Or kiss in the night
You’re the very hope
That brings light into everyday
And I’ll be there for you
In any way that you allow
You’re not just a hand to be held
A touch to be felt
Or a pleasure conquered 
You’re the very hope
Of what life could be
Were I to be the one
To win your heart
So while you take this walk
Know it doesn’t have to be
Or really isn’t alone
For you haven’t left my heart
You haven’t left my mind
And should you need or care to reach
My hand is always here

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Segun my child! My son!
Soon, the cock will crow at dawn
And the east will showcase the sun
Soon, you will leave my home, 
To found your own
With words of wisdom, you won’t be alone.
Like a mini-skirt, advice is too short
But it covers the body’s vital lot.

Hear me.
Your brother is not your friend,
He is another you, but independent
So your love for one another, allow no dent
For the sons of men…
Every journey far destination brings
Nature presents a transport means
The snow has the snow dogs
The desert has the camels
The long distant road has the horse

Even technology came to aid us
For the road, we have the cars
For the seas and ocean, the ship
For the rail, the train
The sky has the airplane
All, to lead us through our destiny lane

That is it with man’s life and the battle in it
For whatever fate comes to us, so be it
As the future hungers like a wild beast
Likewise on it, your eyes be firmly fixed
Take a deep breath my child, and learn this
Every master was once an apprentice
Be it the prophets or the dentists

Fate is most times very unfair
Be not defeated by the things you saw
For life is more like war
And all is fair in love and war.
But whatever life’s battle you face
Nature will surely with remedy surface.

When you fall or fail
Don’t ceaselessly wail
Inhale…count to ten, and then exhale
Turn stumbling block to stepping stone,
So the builders reject, will be chief cornerstone

Two Demi-gods are on man’s destiny entrance
Their names, Consistency and Perseverance
Segun, to them, you must bow
No matter what, no matter how
On their feet, bring your head down

I know my son, I know,
That adventure is the blood of the youths
But by rushing the moment, the petals are bruised
So, calmly assimilate my child, calm study
For so, Apostle Paul admonished Timothy
Never be the first to hate
But to forgive, be the first and be in haste

My son, all humans can’t love you
If they all do, then they want to kill you
Likewise, all humans can’t hate you
If they all do, then they want the best for you
What people suffer to get, yet you so easily get
That you must never despise
For it is your miracle in disguise

For the sons of men,
Me, myself and I comes first
Don’t follow that context
If you find the opportunity to rule
My son, take the alternative to lead
For where rulers doom, leaders bloom

When fortune knocks on your door,
Be quick to offer him a sit
Use your wisdom and condor
To keep him and give him no exit

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Shall Never Love Anyone Like You

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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Words Are Not Enough

Words are not enough,
Alphabets strung in uncertainty,
Speech slurred in disbelief,
Love endlessly professed,
Lacking in action or substance,
Intentions of the heart,
Inexpressible by vocabulary,
Pledges frustrated by timelines,
Lofty dreams built with bricks of vapour,
Visions written on sand,
Children of promise orphaned by unfulfillment,
In foster care of compromise,
Doubt takes up tenancy,
Sin, its landlord.

Grace grants clemency,
Faith offers a new lease,
Adopted by rectitude,
Shut doors avert imminent destruction,
Redirecting the path to destiny,
Visions conceptualized begin to materialize,
Pipe dreams turn reality,
Old debts reconciled,
The hearts intent,
Superseded by divine counsel,
Love endures its rule,
Substantiated by fidelity,
After all said and undone,
Words alone are not enough.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

That Which Is Real

Oh to be just a friend
To laugh, joke and play with you
Is not something
I know how to do
Oh how I wish it were
For it’d sure eliminate
All this pain I feel
Sometimes it happens
That starting off fun
Turns into something real
And what was meant to make you laugh
Turns into tears
That seem to take
Life’s  breath away
Leaving you to feel
Like there’s so much left to say
If only this, if only that
If I only could, if you only would
So many tricks of the mind
As we try to find
Justification for holding on
To what should be freed
So we can move on
Yet we hold out hope
In each accidental hello
That tides will turn
Though they have long washed away
It’s just the way of life
And how love burns
Until we learn
The difference in what we feel
And that which is real

Details | Prose Poetry | |

With a Kiss

~ (~) In-the-moonlight from here echos carry far. Grace lays beside innocence amid the shadows of love the measure of its hope, tranquility, delivered. (~) ~ ~ (~) With a tender terry to-and-fro-amid the murky acceptance of the open streams, dancing vibrantly humble weeds-can be-found rolling around in abandon toppling about-again- and-again-up-under them then-and-again amid-the-forbidding mid the ambling waters off the shores in lieu of the gentle undertow reflecting-of-their-brilliant-pastel-colored-luminescence — shining boldly in their naked dance coming to land softly then... and-again — each upon the mighty shores of the delta. And as they catch her eyes my youngster her passions. (~) ~ ~ (~) Tender-as she is as she eyes them there their velvet petals crimson her love grows sheltered between the bosom of the light. As she kneels down, reaches out between the wind, and-thorn... to pick up their essence her quiet ladies their beauty blooming.? (~) ~ ~ (~) Shadows scurry away, run... morning Sun wakes the dawn. Grateful eyes see, remember. (~) ~ ~ (~) Removed, bygone buried dead already I am... yes. No not bitter because grateful if the truth be known, a willing man I am today. Wishing only to abide in peace with no regrets. Because yes friend, found I have in the place of my bitterness, regret, today. (~) ~ ~ (~) No, you know I know I haven't any room for this. Praying to be as I was born but-one open soul my one driving ambition being, to be as complete. Absent of the motive of self ready openly willing to be emptied recreated filled to-overflowing standing in the repose of His peaceful pardon. This promise remains to be plenty for me enough. Asked God I did, for this. Trust Him now I do. Honorable He is faithful, wiped my sin away He did... sealed it, with a kiss.? (~) ~ ~ (~) And now given-to me this, God's illustrious heart extended for me held up high! His love has come, brought me to my knees... kept me. Echoes carry wanting only to raise lonely ghosts of the past. His love has become my only reprieve. No kinder thought is there to wake the morning. Carry onward with me, through the twilight-with-Him... fall asleep to in peace. (~) ~

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Winters Freedom

The Sky Wept Unendingly with Snow:

His thoughts in a Frenzied attempt at Normality,
Clung to the idea of a Priceless Freedom.

Striving Forward, splinters of Ice cut and Maimed
Revealed patches of Flesh; Each Sting a Reminder.

A Cascading Avalanche of Memories Swept him
Into the past, amidst Those he Could Remember.

Each, a diminishing aspect of his weakening 
Internal Clock; The Gears, a Rusted Brown.

The Day diminished with him,
His clock struck Twelve.

An Inescapable Crossing of Thin Ice,
Half-Way across, The Gears Halt.

The Ice Gives Way.

The Sky Weeps Unendingly with Snow.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Shape of Our Kindled Past

You promised me anticipation
Of a fantasy future upon introduction
Happily ever after, you offered
But don't ask questions until info conferred.

Tentative and with inward questions afire
But with soft love in my heart for what I admire
I turn aside others' attacks and doubts
Until I can find out what you're about.

Slowly, you begin to unravel as I share
Myself, my heart, my sensitivities I bare
Wrapped up in you and your story
Though the tales are scary, I'm not wary.

Over time, I see the warning signs 
And often times would run and hide
Knowing what I see cannot succumb
To what you had promised our life to become.

Flipping back and forth, as fear abounds
Like I'd come face to face with bloodsucking hounds
I retreat and attack and cry to myself
Knowing without you my life will be put on a shelf.

So, I learn that my lesson to be learned
Is to face the pain that my actions have earned
Not to bring on needless sorrow or strife
Because for you it only cuts like a knife.

Learning to love another beside me
Has been the elusive mystery
That I've never been brought to
Until sensitivity showed blossoming in you.

Many months of sharing laughter 
And lifting each others' spirits after
Pain is inflicted on one or another
Which our strength we've developed endures together.

Being apart now hurts sometimes
But always now I realize
That our hearts are one as one can be
Reaching through the distance happily.

For when I see you, I know
You will always continue to grow
As long as you are shown love
And remain open to gifts from above.

Never let your feet get stuck
Where negativity is all amuck
For you are meant to blossom full
A rose that the sun does upwardly pull.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



Dance, dance,
your heart is dancing,
your hair is dancing,
your eyes are dancing,
and I,
I hold you in my arms,
my dancer,
with you scent of honey and lemon.
The music is ours,
dance, dance,
the rhythm is carrying us
with its arms
of love and tango.
Cheers to Carlos Gardel
and his sonorous songs.
With the bandeon of passion and dreams.
Signals of joy,
signals of vivid music
in the nights of tango.
Teach us to fly,
like birds without destination,
flying at unrestrained beat,
in the whirl of the night.
We love the music,
stars of the heart,
tango of dreams,
nightly desire,
and between lovers,
wellknown songs.
Nights of tango,
nights of hearts,
give our love the wings,
soft wings of joy.
The tango is ours,
dance  my  heart, dance.
Let the nights shudder,
and let us enjoy the madness of tango.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Last Moment

Day by day my body decays
And my soul waits
For the warmth of your embrace
The meaning I cannot trace
The time is now to receive your grace
I remember much
Yet memories past have no bearing
I can see much
The meaning almost clear
The dust settles and chaos vanquished
Peace and love echoed again and again through the halls of time
Bear no weight until the final moments
Jubilance captured
A single frame as I lay
Time will no longer wait and I can no longer stay
Weep not
Harmony engulfs me
Symphonies escort me
And angels guide me
My loving Father waits for me
I can almost see Him
I certainly feel Him
The old world fades to grey
Weep not
A brilliant glow not of this world fills me
A love not felt by mortals
It is the beginning of the end
My breath shallow
My thoughts clear
My soul readies
Do not weep
He is waiting for me
This is exactly where I am supposed to be

Details | Prose Poetry | |


God created hands for building things. Sometimes before you build something, you must first destroy something else.

Wildfires are never supposed to be put out. Their sole purpose is to burn the entire forest to the ground, transform living things to fertilizer, making room and preparing the soil for new growth.
It is almost paradoxical, 
that there must be death before birth

My hands have stared the grim reaper’s reflection inside the pool of my best friends blood. An old student I used to tutor told me that I am the best brother she could have asked for
She said she will always love me
This was after I burned every bridge that traversed the gaps between us
Stared at her from across her desk
Told her that she will never be my sister. That our bloodlines will never match.
Our gene pools are just strangers that made the same wrong turn.
I spent so much time trying to find my way back that I never realized I was home in being lost I found something comfortable, without expectations. I only corrected myself after she spoke,
because I heard something familiar in her voice.
She sounded like family.

I have the scarred and wrinkled hands of a senior citizen
I’m only 22 years old
I once got my palm read
This gypsy woman told me that my lifeline should have been cut short when I hit 17.
That was a year ago.
What do gypsies know anyway
I have defied the odds my entire life.
Been broke down and built back up too many times to count
My fingernails chewed raw to the cuticle out of anxiety
I enjoy the taste of my own pain
Sometimes I use my own hands to destroy myself just to see who my real friends are who will build me back up when I can’t do it alone

My hands have a desire to learn how to cook, but I’m not that great.
So when I am alone,
I tend to be hungry, not just for food though.
I starve for someone to talk to
It never satiates, because it’s not you.
I know what it tastes like to completely give myself to someone.
My biggest fear is being abandoned.
When I look into your eyes, I am not afraid.
I need to cook you up a feast of myself, then feed it to you every day for the rest of our lives
Please tell me what I really taste like,
Be honest.

Years after my grandfather passed away, my grandmother moved into my aunt’s house.
Since I was 5, every time I speak to her she asks me:
“Spenser, did you thank God for waking you up today?”
I think to myself, I never did tell my eyes to open themselves. It just happened.
So I don’t know how to respond to her correctly.
I tell her that I love her, that I am writing a lot.
She tells me that she puts her hands together for me every night
Prays that I will get the job I want
I guess some prayers do get answered.
Sometimes two hands in the right position, matched with a conversation with God,
Can change things.
I even accidentally call that place home sometimes.

My dream is that my hands evolve into wolves, become part of a pack and work together with other hands to make a difference
Some days they will be the alpha male.
Full of confidence, at the head of the pack
Other days I need someone to show me the right way to go
Because if I’ve learned anything
It’s that I am not always right
I can not always be in control of everything
The only thing I have ever really wanted is to know
That my hands were truly
A part of something.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

God's Goodness

. .. ... ... .. . . . Mercy longs-for a companion- peace faithful holds on keeps hoping, forgiveness sustains, love gently uplifting! Three hearts cry out one for the other; their candles lit each swaying together as they flicker-the-door, opens wide - Grace-generous aware, racing in brings them in their longing; together - Joy delights revels in this, surrenders itself one- for the other - Time honest- boasts of this remains-willing - continues marching. Like brilliant waterfalls do, peregrinating down-cascading themselves about them in their glorious way upon the humble streams as they-go, joyful is the soul trammeled grateful the heart the mind hopeful - its greater desire for freedom moving-it-a- ways-farther-beyond the- staleness of its-same tiered-old- prison - love opening the door - full of God's goodness the crispness of the air its pureness rushing in to greet it - its mundane life renewed as it were now - being made secure. Opened-through-Grace; a song, poetry I feel is-the-ever fervent-cry of-the-greatest-of the indifference's of the heart, mind, brought again to know the-joyous dance-of its tired soul-waltzing away riding gingerly on the feet of the Lord. The one-once-completely blinded trammeled; alone - resting sweetly now, weeping honestly under the refuge-of the humble willow - forevermore opened itself through this - willing; undeniably grateful - the perfect absence of hate in the face of pride, precious beauty, delight, of divinity's illustrious welcome - Hope peace, mercy, forgiveness-love, faith; grace - joy-knowing finally finding their place within; a gift for them - a permanent-home. 3 poems written 1 year ago. I decided to form them individually today here: 10th Dec 2010. Formed as I brought them from another site from their original forms as they are there. Was curious while in the midst of forming; noticed they would as I had formed them fit together. Had no idea they would fit this way together as they have now. Hence the name given for the poem in thank you, for: "God's Goodness", because it is He that was the inspiration, as well the Guide/Mastering of the hands that formed them. Thank you for reading. Their names are as follows as I brought them formed them: A Permanent Home, I'm Feeling Sick Today Let's See What and How Much I Can Bring to the Table, The Longing. I Had no idea I was forming a candle.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Spring New beginnings

Such a beautiful sight a valley of snowdrops, white heads nodding in approval of our love.   We wander hand in hand no more lookng back, just forward, stepping into the Spring time and the wonders of the new.

tiny sprouting leaves
flowers nodding downwards ...
spring morning

Walking together in  the countryside, we stop and kiss, just so happy to be together at last, lambs with bobbing tails watch tentatively, nervously bleating for their mam's shelter . A lone donkey in with a full of horses with their foals, is so happy as he feeds.

in green pastures
horses are grazing ...
springtime feeds the eyes

Our love has stood the test of time, new beginnings spring forth. Looking towards the winter of our lives together.

a glowing sun sinks
awaking lonely hearts ...
love blooms

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Son Asked

                                  ~A Son Asked~

How can i give when i have nothing?
Because nobody has nothing you have 
everything but did not know 
you had everything.

How will i know if i am in love? 
Everything you do is richer and 
fuller when love is there only when 
you fall in love when you desire with 
passion when you miss the flame in 
her eyes when you envy the ground 
she walks on when you leave her and 
regret doing so when your dream is
all about her wanting her to be next to 
you now this moment this second that 
is called a dream come true! Love.

Is living a dream?
Only when you wake up in the morning 
full of love stay in love the whole day 
no matter what look at the twilight 
smelling the perfume from your balcony 
having a reason to get dressed to go out 
full of happiness energy plan an aim 
with a goal & success this is when you 
start living it becomes a dream come

Is forgiving a dream?
Only when you regret if anybody was hurt 
if you stop judging & being resentful and 
you can sleep at night with no remorse it 
becomes a beautiful dream come true.

Is being human a dream? 
Only when you will feel other peoples pain
when you will open your heart and even 
shed a tear that is being human it becomes 
a dream come. 

Is sharing a dream?
Only when you start sharing even a piece
of bread give unconditionally listen to the
voice & respond feel the beating of a heart
be everywhere it becomes a dream.

Is friendship a dream?
Only when you become friends for
life it becomes a dream come true.

Is being compassionate a dream? 
Only when you love life when you
feel you can climb on top of the 
mountain and envy the beyond
& feel compassionate it becomes
a dream.

Is being intelligent a dream?
Only when you use your brain towards 
the right directions right decisions
be patient tolerant accept change
when needed proud of who you are
persistent succeed over the years it 
will become a dream come true.

Is having a mother a dream?
I can only think about this reply:
Since birth until the end a mother
is the shadow of each child its an 
everlasting love this is a dream 
come true.

How will you know if you are a writer:
Only when you never stop writing.
                                                                         Therese Bacha
Contest for PD  About inspirational poems.               6/3/2013

                                                                  Win as Honorable Mention.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Under The Wise Old Oak Tree

In luscious green fields 
As far as one can see
With her eyes closed embracing her tree of life, 
Her supple body 
And soft cheek pressed against the rough bark
Awaiting her beloved

Hugging her from behind
He’s hands cupping her bosom 
Pulling her ever so close
Gently turning her to face him
Passion in his eyes

The wise old oak tree
With whom she shared so much
Her memoirs since her 3rd birthday
When her puppy died
All her little concerns and secrets
It is here where their lips first touched
It is where they will lay to rest 
 Long silence, no more voices inside her head
No need for words while with her beloved under her tree
Though many years have passed
The old oak ever majestic 
Has lost some branches during the winter storm

She sighs with contentment 
Enjoying the shade it provides
After their walk and teaching him all about hugging trees
They settled on the lush green lawn for a sunset picnic
He picked up his guitar and sang to her 
 Love songs from his soul
It is where tonight they will
Consummate a lifetime of songs 
Exploring and learning
The air moist with mist blanketing 
Their pleasured sighs
In tune with the nocturnal symphony 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Nature In Our Garden


Today opening my door to descent the steps to visit my garden
makes my dreams come true, my green garden enlightens 
my heart most of the time i spend it there, whispering with 
my roses, watching the very old green trees, watering the 
green grass, i love it. 

Suddenly my heart starts beating just found an envelope with 
white roses sleeping at my doorsteps, anxious to discover the 
sender, with a huge smile my surprise, it was from my darling, 
he wrote:

You are the woman of my dreams, I am taking the liberty to 
announce, you are my reason to live, if you are not in my life 
I will not tolerate my existence one moment longer, I need to 
become stronger to carry you towards our love nest share our 
hot body, love the love that will slowly put off that burning fire 
between us under our green trees very soon.
Lay your roses down, free your hand to hold mine, together, 
we will walk towards our green garden and dream of that day 
when our eyes will meet to become bride and bridegroom 
surrounded by the green trees everywhere, friends clapping 
so hard for us to engage with that beautiful touch of our lips, 
a sign you belong to me forever. 

Will you marry me my woman with green eyes? Oh! yes yes 
I screamed not realizing he is not here but a letter in my 
hand, the invitation for my own wedding, how blessed we are.
The weather was happy the full moon lighted up the outside 
view to watch my roses blossom and maybe tomorrow we will 
walk together not only to get married we will upgrade our 
thoughts to the highest peak,we will reach our goals by living 
as one, we will enjoy whenever we can and endure when we must, 
we will not anticipate trouble or unhappiness about what may 
or may not happen, but we will walk towards our green garden, 
soon as husband and wife. 

We will not allow any obstacle stop us from becoming what 
needed to be successful, in love always, my heart was 
instantly beating towards positive thoughts a husband to love 
to sleep with, to cook, to wash, to wake up in the morning have 
our cup of coffee in the fresh air, i will stand by my man, 
no matter what.
A beautiful marriage in my green garden, all surrounded by huge 
green trees ancient as this house belonged to my grandfather
and I inherited it.
I felt like getting married with all those greeneries surrounding 
our guests i will place 100 white chairs on each side on the green
grass, and the aisle in the middle with green ribbons on the chairs,
at the end will be the priest standing behind a white table on it 
a beautiful green table cloth the chalice and cross next to the bible  
between white roses and greeneries. 

I need to sleep to wake up early run to my garden and prepare
the roses to share and whisper to me how beautiful they will 
become on that unforgettable day, the green grass will emerge 
to beautify their existence for our guests, the huge green trees 
will wave endlessly with the wind, a flow of some breeze.

We will be married as soon as he walks through my door,maybe today, tomorrow or after tomorrow.
Now we became a family with my green garden it will live to shine and
share the amazing wedding of two lovers married at last with the green 
beauty of our garden.

At that moment my thoughts tried to trick me in a discrete 
conversation saying, how do you know you will be happy? 
can you guarantee that happiness will exist? those were my 
repulsive thoughts, disregarding them, i shook my head
with sophistication a vigorous reply we will become
Thee couple in love forever. 

Our unique marriage in our Green Garden Of Eden was televised that day
a huge surprise to us and our guests by a close friend as a wedding gift. 

Therese Bacha                                                                 
              Contest for PD. Nature.. Win N0. 8

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Gertrude -- Gertie -- Gertrude Stein

-- Re:  Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Rue de Fleurus #27, Paris --

What would Gertrude.What Gertrude.What, Gertie?Have thought.Have thought what
thought?Thought thought driving,forward,remorselessly.Remorseless Remorse?Forward.Never reverse;no reverse.No.No remorse.Remorseless,spurning reverse,seated.High!Seated high in Auntie.Then in Godiva seated. Looming.Enormous.
Looming enormous.Unsinister presence. Certain presence.Definite.Definitely not sinister.  Positively looming;enormous in brown.Brown,in brown corduroy,driving Paris.
In Paris,through Paris.Looming high in Paris in Godiva.With Alice, quiet beside her.
Quiet; always, Alice.Alice always. And zipping, about -- coming to Rue de Fleurus 27.
Zipping to Rue de Fleurus.To 27. And Alice so able.Able Alice, each a.m. transcribing.Able Alice typing.Automatic Gertrude.Typing Gertrude.Great Gertrude.GeniusGertrude.Talking Gertrude.Genius talking.Great brown Gertrude;Gertie to Alice.
Absorbing, talking, buying art --- buying Matisse.Absorbing Matisse.Showing Matisse.Banishing Matisse.Selling Matisse,collecting Picasso.Great Gertrude -- genius Gertrude at court, holding court at Rue de Fleurus 27.And Leo.Gone Leo.No Leo at Rue de
Fleurus.Not at 27 After Leo, after Mr. Stein, after brother Leo.But there was Alice.Alice
was there Among Braques.And Cezanne.(Not Matisse.)No longer Matisse, but Picasso.And Picassos, Picassos, Picassos!And Alice; alongside, was Alice.Next to, was Alice.Alice
next Gertrude,Gertie, G. --- Gertrude, Miss Stein. Genius Gertrude Stein Quiet Alice
always.And a great Gertrude.A great brown Gertrude.A leviathan. A passing ship; a
great leviathan.Gertie, a genius.A hugeness.A shibboleth.But to Alice, just Gertie.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Warm thrill, brief unforgettable moment, Mario De Paz 11,19,2013

That field of wheat
Gilded by sun
Cherished by wind
Tender received
Our bodies
A warm thrill
Down in my back,
In my bones,
While embracing her
In the field of wheat.
A warm thrill
Is now quivering
Down in my back
In my bones,
To that field of wheat

italian version:
Brivido caldo

Quel campo di grano
Dorato dal sole
Accarezzato dal vento
Morbido accolse 
I nostri corpi 
Un brivido caldo
Scese nella mia schiena,
Nelle mie ossa,
Mentre lei abbracciavo
Nel campo di grano.
Un brivido caldo
Sta ora scendendo 
Nella mia schiena
Nelle mie ossa,
A quel campo di grano

Details | Prose Poetry | |


                                                   I pray to God 
                                      to keep us safe from every spheres
                                          by inflicting good consciousness 
                                          to do away from all evil actions 

                                                    I pray to God
                                        to lead us to the perfection in life
                                by pouring sense of love to all hard heart man
                                      to make the World better living place 
                                                     I thank to all
                                 who have given me support from any sides
                                either mentally, financially or with few words
                                          I will remember them always


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Coming home to you everyday

My best friend is just a few yards away
not feeling well she’s had a long day.
Right now in our bedroom watching a cooking show
I don’t under stand it, she knows all there is to know.

As with every thing else she always wants to do better
she gives it her best even when she’s under the weather. 

My best friend is my most loving wife
She has given me the best years of her life.

It’s been thirty nine years since I took her as my bride
That’s thirty nine years with my best friend by my side.	

A lot has happened since our day in September
some things forgotten but the best I still remember.

I remember the warmth and passion of our youth
I still feel it when I think of you and that’s the truth.

I remember worrying that my job would call me away
all I ever wanted was to come home to you everyday.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Beyond the Dungeon Door

O Catie love ye do ask too much of a poor scribbling poet to ask him to
open the doors so ye can view the terrible thing he knows himself to be.
All men and mayhap women too know what terrors hide behind our own locked 
doors. Yet still ye ask, so very well, I'll unbolt the door to allow ye to peer with-
in if ye are so inclined. I for one have seen inside and know what a putrid slice
of humanity I am and how I revel in the darkness when drunkeness or pain or even 
simply living allows those fetid shutters to slip and let me see. I speak not of evil 
deeds I have performed nor of any punishment I fear for these foul perfomances, 
but of the satisfaction felt when the girl who wouldna dance with me is paralysed in 
a car wreck or when my old boss hangs himself after going bankrupt. These 
thoughts and others like them and worse I have imprisoned herein. Because these 
things hang festering like buboes on my soul ready to rupture and allow their 
stinking pus to flow, I cannae further go. Still here be the key for ye to use if ye still
wish to see. I ask only that ye dinna remove my chance to suicide but leaved it 
within and bring it not into the light. I dinna believe we'll like each other after but I 
will understand if ye wish not to bear my company more. This key and my love as my 
friend are all I have to gie thee. Pray, use both well.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

She wrote to me

           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!

Therese Bacha

Details | Prose Poetry | |


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
love story,
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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I feel bad that you all got to stand on my path for your livelihood said sandy, Sandy will be less harmless in the days ahead. Sandy is glad to have a short life span. Sand is trying as much as possible to give you folks only the crumbs of her majesty cruelty. The peace and progress of this wonderful nation is too much, we shall never reduce it to minimum .
I regret why I brought rush into your quiet lives. Sandy regret why she brought pains into your lives. Sandy regret why she put sorrows into your lives. I regret why I brought tears into your lives. Sandy is just a tourist. My coming is sudden my departure is so sudden.
Sandy you brought down all our lifetime achievements but thank for given us a second chance. Sandy you brought tears into our hearts. Sandy you brought blood into our eyes. Sandy whiles us. We will be firmed to pick up shattered pieces impose on us by you when you will be far gone. Bye sandy.
Sand you make me shaver, you make me fear Sandy. Sand you make the trees and buildings of the nation capital tremble as if it was the capital of the unbrave. I will not be ashamed to start all over again dear Sandy, we almost love you only if we will not see you again so soon bye sandy. Sandy we known we have been stung by your wicked venom but we will over come it Sandy.
I will tell my cousin Katarina not to frequent come on land again but both of us are still storbbone said Sandy. If Human Beings were borne educated our society will be a very perfect one said Sandy. Sandy our subways will go better than ever. Sandy we promise to keep a fatherly eye on you dear. Bye san…

Details | Prose Poetry | |

For you, My Love

“For you, My Love”

I watch you sleep
Dark limbs entwined in sheets
The strength you show even while asleep
Makes my heart skip a beat
You are the one I’ve come to love
The one who exhausts me in fiery passion
The one who knows how to make me purr

Bless the day we met
At the carnival two years prior
Avoiding the crowd 
I walked right into your arms
Spilling my chocolate milkshake 
Over the front of your white coat
As I looked up into your hazel eyes
Saw the sadness replaced with light
Time stood still
You said something 
But I could only hear the sound
Of your heart beating 
Getting hold of my senses 
I jumped back fumbling in my purse for tissues
With a “your coat is soiled, sir”
You replied velvet voice “you owe me for damages, miss”
My mouth still hanging open 
We exchanged business cards

Anyway, long story short
We found each other
Love found us
Our exchange of rings at the altar
Promise of a lifetime of love and understanding
Holding each other in the palm of our hands
Kissing me awake with your loving touch
It thrills me thinking about it
You are my shelter
My home

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Changing Seasons

Changing Seasons

In a burst of color and animal choruses 
Sovereign sun heralds in a golden morning –
The air was delicate with the perfume of cherry blossom 
Blown in from the hem of pink rows that lined the 
driveway on Grandpa’s farm 

I looked across at hay stacked verdant hills that were
Tossed with yellow daffodils, purple crocus and white snowdrops 
They danced to the baton of the breeze and the 
Hidden orchestra of lilting bird song of that fragrant spring morn

Grandma sang to me her songs of childhood 
As we walked arm in arm amongst beds of fragrant roses 
and budding fruit trees that whispered promises of full baskets  
that would soon be heavy laden with the Summer fruits, preserves, 
Pies and jam of a bountiful harvest, a few months from now

Summer came rich with its harvest, merry hearts
and long hazy, lazy summer days and nights scented 
with wisteria, frogs and cicada, chirping and croaking 
their melodious summer anthem of  ‘All is well with the world’ 
as we toasted to our full and wonderful life

Autumn brought in a more somber note and amber tones
though warm and restful, they soon told me - life is changing again
time quickly moves on - it prepared me for the winter and 
the chill mirrored in the face of the full moon as it lit a silvery path
to my next season’s change

The cherry trees glowed white against the dark night sky like iridescent bones along 
the snow covered driveway - they waved their bony fingers goodbye 
as I crunched solemnly down the long white corridor with slow steps and a  heavy heart that was beating to the mournful dirge of  hoot owls and creaking limbs – I blinked back tears under that star kissed sky and full moon that lit my path 
The moon reminded me- each season has its bounty that I can treasure -I held those memories close to my well seasoned but thankful heart.

Brenda V Northeast

Details | Prose Poetry | |

With Myself and Me

The number of my Destiny is 7.
Solitary Seven it is sometimes called.
My birth path number 5 is fun and sociable,
but honestly, I love to be alone!
Alone I read my books,
alone I write my poems,
and alone I watch the movies I adore.

I love the company of family and friends,
but since my siblings all live far from me
and my own two kids are off and on their own,
and since my friends are mostly all online,
and the people that surround me at my workplace and at church
are mere acquaintances, busy with their own families,
it's by myself I usually can be found.

It's like that time I spent on my first cruise 
paid for by my husband's mother to accompany her grown daughter, 
a person with whom I share no common interests.
Instead of going with me to attend the talent shows,
the many ship activities like games and competitions
or enjoying karaoke, she was often off alone herself!
Meanwhile I just blended in with all the crowd -
laughing with the members of the cruise,
watching them all dance 
(I must admit I longed to have a partner then),
but all in all, I much enjoyed it all even though I mostly was alone.

I have no problem seeing movies by myself. 
At matinees I'm sometimes the only person there.
I put my feet up; no one's there to care!
Frugal, I rarely go out to eat. 
My husband is so quiet, the few times we eat out,
it would not make much difference 
whether he was there with me or not!
I have no friends with whom I go to classes at the gym,
but I am there to exercise, not socialize.
I'm content to have just the right amount of social interaction
every morning when I'm teaching at the school.

Yes, I am a solitary sort. It's always been this way.
In my childhood, alone I read upon my bed 
while downstairs my siblings liked to play. 
At times I joined in with them. In school I cherished friends
and hung out very often with my pals,
but in the end. . . . 
I find enjoyment in many things,
and many of the things I most enjoy 
I do quite comfortably
with myself and me!

For PD's the a poem' about you... it can be an ode' a self ballad, any poem about you.. THE POETPoetry Contest

Details | Prose Poetry | |

What is commitment?

Commitment is ….. beautiful when you love somebody. 
Commitment is giving something greater than yourself.  

It is:
A promise: To  Assure, Guarantee, Swear, Agree, Secure, Give your word
A pledge: A Promise, Oath, Word of honor

A vow: To  Be determined, Declare, Undertake, Assert

It is: 
Assurance, Dedication, Loyalty, Devotion, Steadfastness, Allegiance, 
Faithfulness, Duty, Responsibility, Obligation

If, to the one you love, you cannot give commitment, then you have nothing to give.

God committed Himself to us, He gave of Himself, He gave Jesus.  
Jesus then gave His All to us, He held nothing back.  
He took the cross that was due us.

Was that commitment?    I’d say it was … it was the Ultimate commitment!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You're such a lovely cyclone

Hey girl!
I love the way you whirl, 
and swirl,
so deep inside my heart.
you're such a lovely cyclone as you tear my mind apart.
seething lava in my veins,
tsunami in my breast,
a hurricane that's gone insane,
an earthquake that won't rest.
your tremors how they move me,
I simply can't resist,
so I sprout wings, sweet golden things,
and fly into your kiss.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


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
floors above,

And I saw You on your knees staring in the
elevator doors,
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
history together,

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!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Letter I

                            ~Why The Letter I~

Why the letter "I" sometimes feels sad or happy.
If I am downhearted I cannot feel happy.

Why the letters "WE" sometimes feels strong or weak?
If I am cheerless I cannot feel stronger.

Why the letters "YOU" sometimes feels loved or hated.
If I am depressed I cannot feel love.

Why the letters "THEM" sometimes feels aggressive or connected.
If I am sadden I cannot feel aggressive.

Why the letters "OUR" sometimes feels love or possessive.
If I am rejected I cannot feel any love or possessive.I will feel

Why the letters "HIM" sometimes feels sexual or indifferent.
If I am consumed I cannot feel sexual, I will feel indifferent.

Why the letters "SHE" sometimes feels adored or betrayed.
If I am crying I cannot feel adored, I will feel betrayed.

Why the letters "ALL" sometimes feels friendship or abandoned.
If I am unconscious I cannot feel friendly , but will feel abandoned.                               

If I will erase ALL those words 
Will you let me Love You?.
I already Love You.

Therese Bacha

Details | Prose Poetry | |


The Time is dying
Mine  is not .
There is an umbilical cord
Between my pulse
and your watch
 This Poem  written by : Salman Dawood Mohammed 
Translated by : Laith Seher

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Another man's wife

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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Science and Religion

My soul is Hindu...
My head is Islam...
My heart is Christian...
Every part of our body has various righteousness.

Every religion is teaching us the knowledge of humanity and love.
Truly religion gives us strong base of life and peace.

Similarly science means comprehensive knowledge.
Science is teaching us the knowledge of existence and prosperity.

Scientific religion is called spiritualism.
It's the historical contribution of science and religion.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

If And When

 ~She Loved Him At First Sight~ 

If she falls in love, 
she will open her window and stare at the clouds movements, 
sending with them her spirit and soul to fly away, meet 
with the highly demonstrative entourage of life, 
to smile again. 

If she falls in love, 
she will transform her ego in a delightful mood of romance, 
hastily search for another positive thought, to strengthen 
her emotions to become undisturbed, generous, rightful, 
and faithful, 
to love again. 

When she falls in love, 
her thoughts will want her strength to protect her 
independence, by joining freedom of her mind, to tutor her 
Heart to balance her brain and body, calm down, 
and love again. 

If she falls in love, 
she will embrace her happiness to be free, as a blessing was passing 
through her deep feelings, to join her strong signal of commitments, 
to love him forever, 
and smile again. 

If she falls in love, 
she will sense the sense of floating as in the ocean, 
feel the unpredictable delightful nature of herself, 
become super sensitive and challenging, when it comes to 
loving each of her thoughts, beg them, to react positively, 
to smile again. 

When she falls in love, 
one of her thoughts became the most delightful companion 
while walking with her through a path, that blossomed with 
a light drizzling rain passing by, allowing them to smile again, 
until she meets him tomorrow. 

She fell in love and both, smiled again. 

Written By Therese Bacha 
      6/6/2013                      Contest For Linda.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I am alone on the Island of Death

I am alone on the island of death
Around the bodies of hundreds 
Natural disasters happened a little earlier 
All dead
My enemies, allies, relatives
Some of the most intimate

I am on mass of ruins
Loud noise...Moaning...Unbroken silent in a trice
I am just at the end
There are no tears in my eyes, no fear in chest
I am speechless

I am in the midst of so much death, destruction
Creation is alive
It's my responsibility to rotate the wheel again
Just me.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Unconditional Love

In the warmth of a massive cozy bed, I lie
Enjoying the freshness of a washed sheet
Lost in a make believe world
Lovely enough, I can’t wake

But while in the deep of my fantasies 
I am suddenly awakened by my little one’s silent echo!!!

Her turns and sucks, 
Her little hand-full tummy, rumbling
Yet again, wet diaper.

Oh no!!! Why now? 
Sleep never felt so lovely
But I just can’t ignore this growl
Am I not her supper-mom? 

Sleep-walking; I grab some warm milk and fresh diaper
For who came from me, same flesh and blood!!!

Details | Prose Poetry | |


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.

Not until...

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
Placed 2nd

08:33 pm, December 17, 2014

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Rose Garden

      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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Man Who Loved Gimewanookwe

He searches her face, scarcely remembering a time
He did not know her; seeing now her dark eyes
Surrounded by age and closed against the pain.

He searches her face, remembering the first time he saw her
Stepping lightly across the river carrying the basket filled with berries.

He searches her face, remembering for a moment the sparkling defiance
Brought about by the choice she made for love.

He searches her face, scarcely daring to hope her eyes will clear
And she will know him again, know him as once she did when their love was new.

He searches her face, willing her to come back,
To lose the demons that return again and again to steal her power
And shut her away from him.

He searches her face, not wanting to look away,
He softly speaks her name, Gimewanookwe, remembering the first time
He whispered her name in love.

He searches her face, smoothing back the graying hair, stroking the lines of pain,
Feeling the faint, weak pulse of her courageous heart.

He searches her face, he speaks her name again, Gimewanookwe, she whom I love,
Gimewanookwe, Rain Woman.

He searches her face, willing her to open her eyes, willing her to remember
And rise up from this bed, rise up and be healed of this crippling fever.

He searches her face, praying for a sign, praying she will return to him
As she was before the white man’s illness.

He searches her face, wondering where she will go when she passes from him,
For he knows she is nearly gone; he takes her gently in his arms.

He searches her face and hears the first drops of rain falling softly upon the quiet land;
He knows what he must do.

He searches her face as he gently lifts her from the bed; she weighs no more than a child.
He wraps the blanket tightly around his only love and carries her out into the night rain.

He searches her face as he lays her down on the grass beside the garden.
Rain falls softly on her face; the quiet touch of God

He watches her face; her eyes widen and brighten.
Once again he searches for life, then softly whispers her name, Gimewanookwe,
Before he gently closes her eyes.

{In Honor of Constance, the Rambling Poet, 
in gratitude for inspiring this poem with her contest ‘Rain’.}

Details | Prose Poetry | |

i am sick of love

i am sick of love
such words and such nonsense
when love does not envy
yet its hard to live and not be green,
     (for love is hard to do
and i am sick of losing such hard-time battles
that i can surely lose my mind before my next birthday
those young lovers(that young girl and foolish boy with his side-chick
that is not love, that is nonsense)
oh, i have seen nonsense come and go,
and i have cried my grief and laughed my jealousy
all those girls with broken hearts, i give them a standing ovation
for they are all fools, and i don't give a fly's bum for them.
      (my thoughts have jumped,
       up and down and up and down
       summer autumn winter spring,
   -love is destroying and i am not living a happy life
yet i sat there and took the blows and cigarette burns on flesh
and i smile, yet i sit and smile the nights and days away
and so-called friends say "why that way"
and I say "U and Me aren't friends... I have no friends-"
       long haired beauties come and go,
       chicks and babes and boys with egos bigger than their hot-air heads are floating away,
and back and forth and back and forth
       party after party after party,
kiss after kiss after kiss,
and chests being groped after chests being groped
legs in nylon and high heels all around-
are all gone, cause they don't care anymore themselves

look now the negro and the white girl
walk the night train together
waiting for the first rail car to take them away from all things and all ways that kill them
and do not let them live
and i sit smoking a cigarette with no one and its quiet and i hope that tonight is the last night,
because i am sick of love already,
i am just sick of love already,
i am just sick of the damn games
of broken hearts and broken promises,
blue-eyed death come and take me away
      (but first lets have a drink- a pink of whiskey or two or three or four
and one last cigarette before the night is through,
and i shall tell you before the clock sticks noon
how i am just sick of love
for i am a man out of luck-
kiss me blue-eyed death
      (take me to your dark angel girls- and tell them to kiss me goodnight,
love me tonight,
as mortality has run its last grain of sand out on me-
and take me and take me and take me
too a place where love is just a figment of an imagination
-only a nightmare, a bad dream (too sleep the night away,
       too wake another day, and be in a different place then this
and to know love is gone from me
for i am sick of love already... I'm through-)

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Royal Changeling

Deep in the dungeon in the back left corner 
Was a mere shell of what was once a man.
He was shackled to the wall of his own design
By the love of his lady so fair, and divine
The queen of a land so far away in time
With a king who held her ever so dear
Locking them away alone from peasant's view
None of his subjects gazed upon this mentally ill king
He had a smothering love for his queen, 
Abusing her in every way
Never there for love, but only in his mind
She hadn't felt his touch in years, other than abuse
Then one day her knight came in on his white steed
They loved under moonlight each night in secrecy
Hiding their treasonous affair from the evil king
Until one night he caught them
The knight dueled injuring the king's ability to speak
The queen fearing their treasonous death
Plotted and schemed as not to be beheaded 
To the knight's chamber they carried him
Dousing the room in oil laying him on the floor
Dropping the lantern the knight held
Flames rose in the chamber, consuming him
The queen screamed to the subjects for help
All the court came running to douse the fire out
The knight and queen really started 
The true king was unrecognizable and couldn't even whisper 
The knight came forward as her husband the king
The queen burst into tears, 
Explaining how the knight attacked her,
Setting the room ablaze
All his subjects bowed before the knight, the changeling
I am sorry dear king, the subjects said 
As the knight pulled the queen to him, 
Ushering them to take him away, to the dungeon below,
Shackled, and chained, in his own kingdom 
In the dungeon the king waited, to be beheaded
The knight secretly became the king instantly
Taking his spot next to the love of his life, the queen
No one suspected a single thing 
She visited the king one last time before he died
Telling him how she loved him, stroking his cheek
Watching the next day as they beheaded him, 
Hiding her head in her knight unknown
Her dark side she displayed
The day her knight became her king 
And her king became some subhuman thing
He had truly always been
The knight now the king with his lovely queen
Ruled for many years, having ten children 
Of tainted royal blood, but no one ever knew 
Their secret love and darkest treason ever committed. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |



I am a citizen of that country
Today is her birthday
Surrounded by barbed wire,
Waiting for the command of firearms
I think that everyone has birthday
Somebody knows, somebody doesn't know
Sometime valuable, sometime worthless.

They have countries, they have rules
Mathematical formulas are known
They have birthdays, festivals
Then the red , black, white, how many countries
They have birthdays.

If give up all the barbed wire, discrimination
Mothers would be same with the smell of soil
Mother would be human being
Then birthday of the world, to me, your, everybody  
So today I feel 
My birthday has become one of the world's birthday.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love's corruption

Oh love, why is it by your touch our soul's happiness withers away?
Why do you corrupt our innocent hearts with your love?
Our innocence is lost, our carefree days are over.
You enslave us with chimerical hopes
and make us suffer the loneliness of reality.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Coffee Time for Two

The cups are on the table 
As the coffee starts to brew
Two flowers in the middle
Now all I need is you 
You called me up this morning
Said you'd be stopping by
My heart started racing
I really don't know why
I guess I'm just excited
To share this time with you
I can think of nothing better 
Than gazing in your eyes of blue
It's been almost an hour now
Since you were on the way 
Wish that you would call me
So my mind won't start to stray
Our coffee time's so special
It's where our love began
So many words where spoken
As our future we did plan
Now it's been two hours
Still no knock upon my door 
I'm feeling a kind of emptiness
As my "second cup" I pour
I sit and watch the clock hands
As the hours pass me by 
Even the petals on the flowers 
Seem so sad they start to cry 
My cup is now half empty
Your cup is barren and it's cold 
I feel a familiar feeling
There's a coldness starting to unfold
We've tried so many times
Perhaps this time is our last
Maybe thinking of our future
Is just something in our past
Though the petals have all fallen
 I'll keep the table set for two
For our coffee time is "special"
It's when I fell in love with you

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Kill a smile with a kiss
The demise of it will visit you in your dreams
Never will I let you
Drown in a pool of angry thoughts
I will be your unexpected smile
Every time I bring u roses b4 valentine
A wet poem I would recite for you

I would make you my 1st rhyme
your heart-beat will rhyme
Twist my beat box
Into a love song
A cartoon I would paint in your heart to keep you smiling
Your twin smiles I would define in vernacular
Though I speak no language from Peninsula
My parents will define your beauty as African splendor
Black mother nation
Smile please smile

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Be Still

And the westerly wind,
Will blow a sea of waving grass
And the sea's fine mist 
Will breathe drops like dew
And the sinking suns
Will cloak the sky's horizon
And the moons of Autumn
Will beckon the golden fertililty of the harvest
And the violet tinged edge of night
Will cry for the white bursting of the stars
And the carved thrust of the mountain range
Will challenge the forever yielding blue
And the hovering tunes of the dawn's awakening
Will mimic the lullaby of my dreams

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I could write a thousand words
and still fail to capture your
absolute beauty.
A thousand verses of sublime
rhyme and fall short of the 
intent of my love for you.
A thousand dreams in the
glittering of stars, all is 
nought to where you take
And the love song that I write
would only emulate the
beating of this heart, a long
slow pulse of absence.
I take the hand of my muse
in thought and feeling, ever
to caress that day when I
first said I loved you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hot Liquid Love

hot liquid love, 
pouring down from the skies,
splashing into your gorgeous, star speckled eyes,
my heart blows wide open,
and cries out in delight, 
the light of you blinding, 
so warm and so bright,
I'm a heavenly feather, 
floating high, and so free,
drowning deep in your heart, 
love's sweet ecstasy.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Imagine my hand touching your face,
Feel my fingers making your skin blush under

Imagine my lips touching yours, slowly,
smoothly, gently,
Feel my tongue inside making your mouth
burn in an uncontrollable flame,

Imagine my hart touching yours in a speed of
Feel my rhythm going through your veins,

Imagine my thoughts connecting with yours,
Feel my emotions consuming you whole,

Imagine us as one,
Imagine losing you inside me and me inside
Imagine deep blue sea,
Imagine sun explosion,
Imagine the sky,
Feel how we unite, making the entire Universe
to envy us! Just imagine! Just feel it!

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Sahrah tends. Sahrah tends the bar at the Inn. The ScourMoueINn. She washes dishes 
passes out Ale to the largesse man drinks droughts ever pays. IN the corner passing 
unnoticed is the small monkish man with the leer, so eye watch young Sahrah tend. When 
approached reproaches some nervous curses foiled. Foible but talented drinking no ale at his 
table but soda just impaling his eye upon Sahrah, sure he is never noticed young love never 
notices old want. His blemishes fails. She comes laying left on the table near the old mans 
soda was a Valentine Heart full of young love twisting it turning it over the old man read 
Sahrah loves... but the namme was failing no namme was forthcoming his misunderstanding 
was in thinking Sahrah never loves him, she loves everyone just the same as she tends even 
him. The largesse man no threat head bent half asleep full of Ale on the table. They soon all 
get away. Sahrah came. She stood looking inside like all young women have there own 
interest do. Reaching her hand out to touch once the elder mans beard. Then they left the 
largesse man there asleep turned the Key to the Door of the Inn. A Valentines Heart will 
come true. At the ScourMoueINn. Sarah tends. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Race Though My Veins

you race though my veins
like a manic fire truck
my eyes smodering from the engine
of your torrid passion
fire hoses squirting out my skin
let me in sweet darlin'
fling the ladder from your pounding heart
climb into my vacant mind
strip me naked and fling me
into your bubbling inferno
your liquid lava seething
every sweet cell breathing me in
as I slowly rise,
and dive into your
silky undulations 
microscopic penetrations
wrap yourself around me
and catapult me deep 
into your long forgotten sleep
let me in sweet darlin'
envelop me completely
my senses scintillating
corpuscles palpitating
drown me with your magic potion
breathe me like a dragon
soak me with your moist emotion
and lift my heart
into the tranquil eye 
of your whirling swirling hurricane
let me in sweet darlin'

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I want you to know

I know a girl more broken than the aftermath of a bull in a china shop. She knows that her pain wont stop, so instead of trying to fix that, she only ever tries to make others happy. She puts everyone above herself and if life was a shelf shed be the ground. The most common sound escaping her lips is sorry. She cries herself to sleep every night, she has cuts on her arms as if too tally up all the hate she receives daily and if she could pay the bills in blood she would be able to afford a living. Lately all she's been doing is forgiving. 

	I want you to know that it's always darkest before the dawn, so if you have to wait another hour for the sun to rise, I will sit beside you with a watch and a red bull the size that two people need to keep them up just long enough to fall asleep together. If the weather is on our side or not, I will stay just to make sure you know you stay up long enough for that sun to rise. It's not a surprise when it does, and if it means you've gone a day without painting in blood, I will do what it takes to keep you from it another day. I suppose what I mean to say is;  

	Put it down. Just pretend its not there; let it disappear into thin air without a hair of a trace, because all it ever does is hurt you. those cuts mark the scars of your pain that will never fade. Cut into your skin, you don't remember the beginning, but you can find the end. Send a message to all the people that made you start, you're a work of art that just has a splatter; it doesn't matter, you can paint over it. Just sit down and look around you. You've built so many walls. You're trapped in a labyrinth made to keep people out but in turn you've locked yourself in. You can't climb the walls, all you hear is the echoed calls of your pain. 

	If you search for a while, maybe you'll find another face trapped in their own maze and you'll both smile; because it's comforting to know that you're not alone. Maybe that person you meet can give you a boost over your wall so you land feet first in grass. You don't need to ask, they're still there; trapped in the maze. Its sad how the price of happiness is almost always someone else's pain.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Siren's Song

I long for the open sea while gentle waves call to me in my sleep
Dreams of salt air and a boundless horizon
No words ride the night, yet I hear her song and know her voice.

Stand I here at waters' edge while the moon bids her rise to greet me
To embrace her as she beckons me to follow
To become one with her, or perish in the striving

Marooned, here I stand on this island in the sun
Afraid to plunge into the depths, I am rooted…captive
Denying myself passage to that distant horizon

O happy tide, would that I were as free to leave

Details | Prose Poetry | |

It's time to astound you

with nary a sound
I walk up behind you
and kneel on the ground
a smile on my face
a glint in my eyes
as my arms wrap around you
with a pleasant surprise
gentle persuasions
wet lips in a race
hot breathe on your back
I've quickened your pace
and now
my fingers are darting all over the place
temperature's rising
hearts palpitating
cosmic vibration
skin scintillating
I know you can feel me
I'm glad that I found you
breathe deeply my love
'cause it's time to astound you

Details | Prose Poetry | |

She Has Nothing I Want

I understand the importance
of remaining faithful to the one you love.
When two hearts become one, and the knot is tied,
no simple thing was done!

It really had no resemblance
to taking a stroll through the park. 
Though there was much to see
there was far too little time to sit.
It wasn't like watching a terrible film
and then badgering the employees -
no refund was available, this was it.

What I don't understand, however,
is how readily available women
are with their ammunition,
when you so much as look
in another lady's direction.
She becomes hard like a Catholic teacher,
sending me straight to detention.

The female form is a beautiful thing.
Would you not agree?
You don't have to be a guy
to notice how lovely.

I believe you should be incredibly worried
if I never looked at any other.
Even the best of us are quite stupid,
but don't call me disloyal

I believe you should have faith I won't slip up.
You didn't just pick me out of the gutter...
You planted a seed deep inside
and turned this dirt into promising soil.

That girl in the red bikini
who walked daintily on the beach
was simply that -
A girl in a red bikini
walking daintily on a beach!

The truth is I don't know a thing about her:
her favorite color or what she smells of when she wakes,
or whether she's into dogs or cats
(I know when you see a kitten with a ball of yarn, your heart just quakes).

I don't know her ticklish spots,
the perfume she wears, or what she likes to eat.
Can she down just about anything, like you,
And still remain light on her feet?

I haven't the slightest clue
for she is simply a girl passing through.
She has nothing I could ever want,
nothing that would ever hope to satisfy.
She is like a pretty picture
- a reminder of my humanity.
But with you, my dear,
you make me feel like I have wings,
that could so easily touch the sky!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Never make a perminent decision on temperory feelings

Never make a perminent decision on temperory feelings. I cant take back the words i never said. When me and you are together nothing is better . He was so easy to love , but i guess love wasn't enough .The past is ment to be left behind , the present is ment to be lived now and the future is ment to make you everything you are. Ending everything isnt as hard as it seems i guess it will just make everything ok for me. People don't change , they just become the person they were really supost to be .

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lord Let Us Not Forget!

Lord, let us not forget,
The devil and his greatest trick,
That we can err without regret,
And the lie that he doesn't exist!

The Lord came to us with a gift,
Full of love and the power of the grace,
But amongst us exists a rift,
'Twixt those who do and don't have the faith.

Once you find your way,
And the Spirit fills you up,
With grace and lights the way,
So that you may share the Love.

The Lord in all of his splendor,
Awaits the glorious day when,
All people will bow and render,
The joyous love they have for him.

And on the day the word is read,
When our Lord rides from the East,
Each of us will then bow our head,
The great even unto the least.

by My Gull Wheels On
a.k.a. Michael Wilson

Details | Prose Poetry | |

First Kiss

he held my hand at sunset,
caressed my arm as we watched the ripples on the ocean,
leaving the hairs on my back standing, 
the most passionate first kiss

gently pulling me close
as I feel weak in the knees
tingling all over as he held me close 
for a long time our senses soaring
beyond the present
like a magic the world spinning

nothing else matters
but the two of us
in our heavenly embrace
of our first kiss

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Liquid azure sky

In a dream, I walked naked through a shimmering valley, high in the sacred mountains of a
distant world. The air was warm and moist; the ice I trod upon sparkled like precious
jewels. As I neared the precipice, I became intoxicated with joy. Suspended high above me
in a liquid azure sky, three golden suns drenched my perfect body with benevolent rays of
pure liquid love. I am the sun, the prism, and the rainbow. I am soul, child of God,
resplendent, perfect and free.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


A lady’s instincts remain under scrutiny, as though each validation 
of rationale is fodder. I’ve no interest to imitate men, as heroic and 
pragmatic as many appear. My intelligence challenges even the 
advanced gentleman. Intrigued by imagination, they ask questions, 
encourage discourse, at first, until my argumentative nature annoys 
them. It’s ludicrous. Odious, this attraction to all the irritants which 
ardor begets. Arrogance, pride and belligerence are not admirable 
traits, and yet ... and yet... on HIM each seems undeniably fascinating. 

Oh, heart of mine, I’ve trusted in your ability to observe character, 
uncover certain aspects that aloofness may appropriate.

Love is such a strain upon the illusions we attain, vigilantly, over time. 
Is this obstinacy? Darcy understands me and this alone makes amends 
for insults, for inflexibility. Should I demand of him excellence, 
bonis artibus, which I’ve not obtained? 

Charlatan!  I must acknowledge that I’m impatient, quarrelsome and 
fussy, as well.  I love a man indisputably, passionately, evermore his 
and his alone, despite arguments. How overwhelming but astounding. 

This affliction, this adoration, came unexpectedly like a will-o-the-wisp 
I happened on the other night, enchanted by affection resounding. 

**David, lol, I just reread your rules AFTER writing this... awk... took 4 HOURS! Now, I see that the vowels must be in a certain order. Don't worry. I'll pull this from your contest. But I wanted you to read this, anyway, as you inspired it. I hope to give your contest another go, perhaps next week. Cheers! 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Essence Of You

Fragrance of earth’s

Clear mountain springs

New life unfurling 

As young love is blooming

Nurtured by the winter sunbeams

Love is on the rise

Fresh like the morning dew

Hand in hand

Playfully running on this sandy shore

The gentle waves our love's tune
I let go of your hand 

Racing ahead

Winter’s rain is cleansing all doubt

We are growing strong and inseparable 

Living in each other

Breathlessly you catch me and hold me tight

I hear your heart’s beats fast and loud

As you seek my lips 

Never will we be apart

Forever living in each other’s hearts 

You are the mountain

Uplifting me with your strength 

The essence of you pleases my senses 

And fulfills my dreams




Details | Prose Poetry | |


When you are sleeping in the bed, with the bible god be my witness
I don't know if I can love every again.
I mean I try to date but something just keep hold me back hold me back, 
self confident is not even the worth trying found words,
word, this type love could bring a grown man to their needs- 

I never reallie got it when they said but your had on the bible,
and swore the oath for better or worst,
or when you hear music at a wedding and you dance the night away,
what are school proms for?
I though I better night would be resident evil and game cube
only if so one would clue me in-
Self consciously years later you question your action in school,
why was she the first I ask if she would buy a key chain from fbla 
and the first time she said uh and then maybe the sentence 
didn't even make sense so natural like
natural selection like we was sync- 

Why in the world am I going to a baseball game another county over she was their,
and I did not realize I
was good at baseball in till I got older a simple sport I sware but I am part puerto rican it come natural
what am im saying it is to early for this like five in the morning-

but oh my god that dream a dream dream,
I don't even think I was on earth and 
then two year later on mother day at western sizzle before
they shut down she came out no where like a ghost 
and was sitting behind me with her family,
but why aren't you eating but texting-

but the real question is because im like slow is did they 
reallie write me straight out of high school, 
I mean I am like a street fighter the alpha type,
but a vibe like that 
you gone have ask her because im shock when she took my sit in first period 
like what are you doing?-

I don't know if im lost my mind or if she playing mind games? 
They say it is the end of the world I say so what is she doing?
I guest the world will never know-

I got the chills and it not because of the weather all I want to know did he cry 
when he walk you down the ally,
people always say you know when know but,
what am I saying I have never experience love like this before-

and im usually shy and word on the bird is uh right cause you took my breath away- 
I don't think any one going get this
what was she doing at that ice cream store 
I didn't even know that was a ice cream store 
I did but I never notice it in till it was gone-
dream a dream dream still shaking up,
first thing I did was hit speaker on the phone 
and hit every number it was it was scary but it beautiful,
a beautiful nighmare it was indeed,
I can not catch my breath let me go get the bible
this would be a reason to go back to church every 
Monday Wednesday and Sunday-

All I can say is A-m-e-n , A-m-e-n, A-m-e-n
Cause world felt like it  has already ending,
Friday thirteen J-a-s-o-n!!! and "Jason is my nickname"-

Details | Prose Poetry | |

God And Woman

God And Woman

I did not want anything from The Almighty
Sacrificed untouchable realization
Which is symbol of myself
And dedicated emotions, silence.

I did not demand anything from the woman
Allowed her into the corner of my mind
Which is the center of bleeding
And presented my intuition.

The Almighty and the woman repeatedly call
Destruction in my lonely life
It's the ability to do more by them...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Reflection of love

Cold winter has frozen my senses,
I can’t feel anything but emptiness,
You left and I can only feel pain or less,
You come to my dreams and we make passionate love,
We kiss like there is no tomorrow,
We touch like we haven’t been touched before,
We whisper love, amore, ljubov,
We cry because dawn has come,

You left me broken,
You left and my hart has stop for a moment that still lasts,
You left and my soul has frozen,
But every cell of my body still feels you insight,
Every part of my broken hart, still pulse you name:
Love, amore, ljubov!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Butterfly Kiss

I felt it soft and gentle
Best taste ever
taking me to a strange land
where i long to be

I mounted on it's wings
Best ride ever 
taking me with eyes close
where nature makes me happy

I felt this wonderful kiss
best to win a heart
A butterfly looking deep in my eyes
And made me to love again

Details | Prose Poetry | |


written 17th Sept 2013

When it comes to love, I AM poisonous
 don't let me curse another, leave me loveless

For the first time in my life, I felt your pain and cried for your heart
 my heart finally hurts, knowing I passed this pain from the start

Please find help to set your heart free
 trust me, it's not a life you recover from easily 

Damaged goods I told you, unrepairable
 but some how, you managed the impossible

Unlovable for my entire life
 yet you had no problem, getting me to become your wife

Yes, it's been more than both of us should have ever had to bear
 at this moment, every cell in my body is overwhelmed, so I really do care

Please don't enter my life's pain and despair  
 you don't deserve it, you are so patient and filled with such love

I'm sorry I let myself fall in love knowing it would poison you
 soul mates forever and eternity, my love belongs only to you...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Shining Star

When I look at you....
I see the pain in your eyes....
They tell a story of anguish....
And years of devastating pain....
I am here to help you heal...
I will be waiting....
With open arms....
To catch you my baby....,
With all my might....
Keep the tears away....
We had our share of pain....
And make you smile....
Listen to your stories.....
And laughter as we play....
Kiss your cheek and stubborn chin....
Forever my baby is a very long time.....
It is how long I will love you....
My shining star.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Without you

This morning when I woke up in an unfamiliar place, dark and empty.
There were no doors, no windows I was trapped.
No light, I could not see.
No air, I could not breathe.
I cried out for help, no one could hear me.
Alone and smothering as the rhythm of my heartbeat grew weak until there was no beat.
The glimpse of my soul once filled with vibrant life now fades away as dark as the place I find myself.
Wait this in not a room,
Wait this is not a place.
But, this is my world without you.
Dark, empty, alone and hurting.
I am alone in the dark
A shadow covers the beam that once lite up my life,
My heart is empty,
My dreams shattered,
This is my world without YOU!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

For a Thousand Years

As I kneel beside your bed I just want you to know wherever I am, your husband is always thinking about you. The times we spent together have been the happiest in my life. You look so much like an angel as you lay there, but unlike in the movie Snow White, you're still sleeping after the kiss. Some say your eyes are deep blue like Crater Lake in Oregon, but your smile to me is more beautiful than the stars in the heavens on a clear moonless night. I lit a candle at La Cathédrale de St. Corentin today.  I remember the first time we visited there. I stood back and watched you with your long shapely Norwegian legs. The wonderment, innocence, and the look on your face is unforgettable. You must know I would give anything for you to open your eyes again, to hold you in my arms with you looking at me with your smile. Instead there are tears and the sheet beside your bed is starting to get damp. You must know I’m here kneeling by your side each and every day. At night they let me in to light a candle at La Cathédrale as I plead my case to take your place.  In the morning I light another candle before I come to see you, my love, my life.  What am I going to do, I was always your rock and your shoulder, but now I am broken, I am lost baby. I brush your hair to the side of your face remembering that your touch used to make me tremble, your kiss would make my knees quiver.  When I touch your hand I remember I was so sure of everything when we held hands together walking side by side. My faith, my devotion, and my passion is strong. I will come back here for a thousand years just to be by your side. For now I need to leave again to lite another candle and tomorrow I will return to hold your hand, and take care of you as long as I breathe.  I love you baby.

Edward J Ebbs - Nov 19, 2014
Written for Contest: Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place

Details | Prose Poetry | |

To Touch The Heart

                                                       To Touch The Heart

                                           I to feel and gain respect from love,
                                           But knowing that your lover is much fond of,
                                           That warmth and caring that love gives,
                                           From feelings shared and now love lives.
                                           But that of life's little minutes one can see,
                                           A picture of perfection and reality.
                                           Surrounded with love's handy touch,
                                           And that glitter from feelings felt so much.

                                           But with much beauty from loves shame,
                                           One noticing that hate has lost this game.
                                           And now tell me of how to feel from pain,
                                           When my heart touches your name..

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Can't Take Back My Eye's

I can't take back my eye's From you the most elegant girl. I observe the billowing, The wavy immature, The adolescence of Thy creature. You become disgusted, It's natural and beautiful. I can't take back my eye's. You the princess of flower, Roaming hornets moves restlessly. They try to sing an effective song In a choked voice To win over your attraction. Your tremble and nimble eye's Artfully neglects this prologues. You trained by the nature About their manners and customs. You keep intact your solemnity. Some of them blown out and gone, Some of them wrathfully gone, I whom you guess a bungler Astonish you, Is now your room for an idol. Still even now, I can't take back my eye's.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


What is it to me
that I cannot place you
in the picture painted by the years
the life has already spent?
Do you merely lurk,
and leave at a much later time?
you are staying

If you may.
I pray.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be 
themselves amusing.

Ah, the grand scheme of things -
                            a forgetting.
A familiar spirit we feel -
                            a remembering.     

(Note) This piece was inspiredly written for the beautiful souls - even the 
strangers - I have met along the way and will still come upon in my lifetime. To 
each special one, you have stirred quite a familiar spirit within. A remembrance 
of forgotten past, I suppose. Thank you for letting me peak through your 
soul's window. The veil of forgetfulness has never been thin as now to me. You 
have so given me a gift I shall treasure in the moments I may tend to forget 
who I truly am - a being with a soul.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The scent of her

Her hair.....So blonde
The scent of it....I love trapped me.

Her full breasts temped me
To do bad things...together
We danced....
At night and again in the morning...

And New Years....just a soldier
We did things...together....
She was from Los Angeles...
My home town...

I knew her name
But a plane she took....
In the morning..
As she kissed me good bye...

This was our moment
She said to me.....
My one week....
Before I die.

Years later I read her daughters poetry
About a man her mother once knew....

He was a gentle man
He made me laugh as I
Never knew I could.....
He was a soldier....
A man....
Who simply loved me
For the woman
He saw.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Innocent Perfection Of Vibes Across The Telephone Line

Innocent Perfection Of Vibes Across The Telephone Line A stranger call’s familiar voice familiar tone How do I amend for such a tone? Sinecure as a ghost to father past question remain have we met before? So the question that I a post do you believe, in coincidence or do you belief in fate So I decide to chat with her a minute to find out what her truth agenda was- As we would speak more and more we would start and finish one another sentence’s And time with in time we would speak of the exact words in between sentences, a rare a currency Indeed Solomon tears do applied to form but I what it to pause and ask her, sure You don’t have the wrong number what a coincidence that I was nineteen all on my on, and As I beginning to fall to sleep the telephone had begun to ring. Maybe it was fate As when I did decide to get a phone to get long distance as well, it looking in deeper. Only a fool would be dumb Found it to Hang up on such a soothing tone. As she kept the conversation with in an hour about her son that got Injury in College sports that happen to be part Cherokee same as me All I kept thinking is when did I register to vote? Soul channeling bed chancing we seem to be on a different plane, Maybe it’s me or maybe it is us if god put us together surely the heaven would rumple, A vibe this strong could surely deceive the devil, (hat trick) Ghost handle of a ring barrel of a magnificent figure of mist of sure air of breeze seen such vibes across The Telephone line chills ran up and down my body standing strain hair up to freeze saying to myself what a Wonderful innocent of perfection to make an acquaintance still hook on the fact it was coincidence as She Apologize for speaking so long and thank me for being a great listener- Two and half years later time well spend in the hood that felt more like prison and trust me I’m from the Projects Like Ice cream milk and cream please and what I was told if I could make it in That hood I could make it in any giving hood giving the repetition of My city – It may have been fate as the whole project was rebuild spiritually and finance by the state And I had move into an apartment complex as I was told could go for a 1,000 in upstate; fate or coincidence as this familiar voice would call again but this time different name And she what it to sell me a product and what me to be partners in a company and water who could Market water and profit and, Idea Chesire to believe, but those that did belief proceed and say once again I said to myself when did I get money all and all six year later I was and looking to relocation the phone rings again instead of Asking Was this coincidence or fate? First thing came to mind was “Some One Clue Me In”- I figure out whom this Anonymous person was But when I say who in the world gives gift cards for cable all away from west Coast to “City That I’m From” saying to myself, is it still a recession? Was this fate? I had a place to live or did I have a Guardian Angel? Question after Question Miss and serve me- Will I ever get pay for my endeavors and read a quote that said “no good deed goes unpunished” And phone ring once more- To The look in A man’s eyes never lies asking once more Was This Fate Or Coincidence- And the last words that came to mind before the college basketball finals game came on was Captivating and Memorizing-

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hypnotic Beyonce

A love that is stronger than my pride,
trying to keep feelings my heart can no longer hide
Emotional honesty is trapped within me,
relieve me, and oh please set me free.

How to give my heart if am afraid to be hurt
Turning my back on love ignoring what its worth.
Refused to reach out for his love, I ‘m all left alone, now
loneliness thrilled me to my very bone.
Playing the ‘hard to get game’, now I’m left like a clown.
Trying to escape from such a feeling; truth that my heart is revealing.
Silence screams music in my head, pushing me to switch on the TV
There came Beyoncé doing her show, singing her new song ‘Halo’
Amazed, her voice melted my frozen stare, so I sat down on the coach to listen.
Her music turns hypnotic and pulled me in, sending thrills all over my skin.
Her voice were clear as the Caribbean sky on a cloudless spring day,
and every word she says just melts my heart away, giving deep feelings that
Consume my tender heart, leaving only mystery with no ultimate attempt to define it.
Her word touches my emotion from the core of my soul, and it seems like 
everywhere, only my lover’s face that I behold. 

Then a happy time filled my mind, giving sensation of a summer breeze tickling my 
skin and amplifies the deepest desire I felt within. This perpetual bliss, abruptly I 
found myself in the arms of my love wth Enthralled Melodies making Passion 
explodes into flames and from this very moment, I know my life will never be the 

 By  kelleyana Junique.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Drowning in your sacred love

your glistening crimson lips
beckon me
I waltz into your seething passion
a sexy serenade into your luminescent mouth
liquid ecstasy
upon your undulating velvet tongue
frolicking in your frothy lotion
swallowed by your rainbow kiss 
lost forever in your sweet emotion
drowning in your sacred love	

Details | Prose Poetry | |

dry your tears

dry your tears
death has gone
and I am here,
no fear my love
no fear my dear

no fear for love is a monster
with flowers for hair
and a warm heart with a sore thumb,
no fear my dear, for love will not eat you-
but in turn will make you smile and laugh
-with a joke or two-
(about a fool in love)
and love shall sing you a song
and lead you to me
so my love don't cry
dry your tears
for I am here now,
no fear my love... fear my dear...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sacrificial Rite

Her Fate lies on a
Predestined canvas
Of muted red

Darkness speaks truth
Though gifts are silent 

Blindly, she feels for
The magical key
That will finally unlock
His lonely chamber

Her spirit is gentle
Ready to disclose the one
She has loved 

’Drink the blood that patiently
dripped from my heart into
this Sacred Cask, and as you
feel me rushing through
your veins know…I love you’

Can he see beyond
Time’s Regal cloak?
Lift the veil of which separates
logic and emotion?
Sight and touch?

She’s coming for him soon
With the key to his 

‘Meet me at the
Bottom of the Spiral Staircase’

The tears she sheds
Belong to him…
For him…

Within the nucleus of an
Isolated cell

Love hurts that much
A seemingly black abyss
She descends
Answering to the Dark
Moon's Call

The deepest place
That eats away at her flesh...
She’ll sacrifice her life
For Him…

If one moment
His eyes see…

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The clock strikes twelve

The clock strikes twelve
and it is time for her to go now,
I hold her for another hour;
she tells me she really has to be going,
then I say, "My love, don't leave me."
I am afraid of the dark
and I need your love
I need you;
both you and I need each other.
"I really must be going," she says.
I hear it in her voice,
she doesn't want to go either,
as a blooming rose says to wintertime,

I hold her hand and I kiss her soft lips.
She is tense,
but she loves, and she loves good.
My dear, one more hour that is all I ask;
do that for me, if you truly love me.

      (Times ticks and tocks, as the old grandfather clock gongs-
-My love another hour please,
leave with me,
go with me,
to the garden of beauty and love with me-
Come now my love, another hour we spend together,
I cannot help myself, but hold you closer and closer to my heart,
one more hour,
let me crawl in your heart and warm your soul,
and watch a movie in your mind,
a sweet romantic movie- no popcorn or soda- for I wouldn't want to dirty your mind,
and we shall go together,
and love together simultaneously, to the ticking of the old grandfather clock.
Only an hour more my dear- my love an hour more is all I need.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Happy Father's Day: Your Sweat Is My Increase

your left hand was hard, but your right, gracious putting me in the balance of Love of which its fulcrum is discipline and respect. Your weaknesses were classified just to ensure I see beyond mine Your chastisement was not without pain of which its appreciation is a strong indicator of my gradual maturity. You always guard the gates of my territory like a Centurion and fight against all antigens like a warlock. You taught me how to be complete and provided the staff and Ass as I journey across Life and appreciate. I initially thought of you differently when you gave me the partially made sandal, when you refused to help with the air-tight metal box, when you gave me bone while milk was still my best delicacy when you laughed at me while I'm confused and worst of all, stopping Mum to come to my rescue. I never knew they were task of Life I most needed, finishing off the sandal made me industrious, opening the box, made me determined and never relenting, chewing the annoying bone made me grow up; your scorn and laughter actually made me decisive and rescuing myself made me independent. All these sum up to making me a MAN! Which makes you my Hero and role model. Before I was, there was you; in fact, I am in existence because of you. I've always clinged unto you as my Life's support but you allow me make my mistakes so as to be the best gadget. Your regulation of Mum's affections only makes me be an unspoilt egg. I always increase when you sweat and your headaches are stepping stones to my zeniths. You are such an irreplaceable asset and your love, so refreshing as the evening air. What more can I say and how else can I show gratitude? As much as I know, you need none of these, One thing I must always say is, I LOVE YOU DAD!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

myanmar poem, poetry, poet from myanmar

For many people outside the Myanmar poetry, it may come as a surprise that there is such a thing as language-oriented poetry contemporary poetry scene in Myanmar. The Poetry of the bourgeoisie and the "art for the people" left-wing poetry.
I feel like I have to say to me about how this had happened in Myanmar, the country was under military rule over the past 60 years their poetry broke away from the traditional style classic writing about the monarchy the old and the Burmese Old Burmese way of life before the annexation of British Burma in 1886. The hair experimental poetry movement 1 of the 20th century, was 2 in the movement of new writing, which led pilot Dag on (which is now in his 90s and blind), after the end of World War 2. Influenced by left-wing ideology known of the historical period popular poetry, realism and the Marxist-oriented, through the 40S late. There was at that time, an ideological struggle between the so-called "art for art's sake" The Poetry of the bourgeoisie and the "art for the people" left-wing poetry. Has described those who did not support writing the new "bourgeois" and blasted the "progressives." Although the new writing system that is based on experimental poetry rhyme 4.3.2 with some changes in the number of syllables in each line rhyme scheme, which makes it more flexible, and was aimed at, faith, and the content of a revolutionary. The art for the masses, and poetry is the weapon of the masses against the landowners and capitalists and national. It is unfortunate that the writing of new, while winning the hearts and minds of an entire generation of young poets, and in some cases made just propaganda, and the adage is that the hair must be less aesthetic and utilitarian more so that even the common person would low education "appreciate" poem with ease. UNSUPPORTED CODE myanmar poem UNSUPPORTED CODE 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The color of love

Without him beside me, my future seems so bleak, being naïve, 
i was told he was not meant for me. Ignoring this world of cruelty
and its power tear our world apart. Now sitting i ponder why I being so naïve from the very start

My tomorrow will never come, for I will forever live in his yesterday. Turning my back on the one who loved me in every single way.
Not even time can heal a shattered heart, but I guess somewhere in his heart he loved me after all

Many times I’ve dreamt of him and unable to hide my tears,
As I reminisce that sad day I decide we go our separate ways,
I pinch myself, as in a dream, knowing it is not true,
How could I let go of such a man, no woman would ever do.

I remember the look in his eyes when he dropped by and found my note. Pain crippled on his face leaving such a heart in pain, as he read along “My heart is with you but I will forever be alone, never will you and I share a place of our own. Rejected by all to cross the color line thinking my love is blind".

 If again such a love should come my way, I’d break free of those dark days I’d confess my true heart and reject the rest and  break through this racial barrier and fallow my lovers path wherever he lead to ease this heart that beat to grieve.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Are You The First To Be An Ex

There are some colours that can never be repainted, marks that can never be removed and stains that can never be covered. Move on! My past loved one, don't hold unto my shoulders as though nature formed us together. We've once crossed that bridge but even before reaching its middle we had crashed into the river and were swallowed by the rocks of its depth. Do you remember, at first we built a garden coloured in trust and grassed with unbelievable care? But we converted it into an Oven where love and hate mix and our problems; I'm the only one trying to fix. Unfortunate episodes of our heated drama was already counting at thirty and six. The beautiful songs of our hearts we remix as sadness and anger feasts. Why shouldn't I leave and prevent my heart from an avoidable accident? But you stick around only to suffer from self torture. My new and bright countenance makes you wanna have sex with other male colleagues, I flex. It's barely two weeks that makes you perplexed well; it's your problem b'cos I'm not bothered if you're vexed. Are you the first to be an ex? Just move on, my dear past lover! It will be the height of folly and the worship of loneliness if you visit our world again.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sweet River Man

Let's wait for the sunset one summer's day
down by the river where I always liked to play
we can kick off our shoes and bury our feet in the sand
come on please be my sweet river man
We can call the wild geese up with a little dab of feed
or jump in the water a little too deep
in that old Red River we can laugh and sing
take me by the hand, make that leap

Write our names in a heart in the sand
you can be my sweet river man
and I'll be your sweet lady river friend
we can hold on for life and scare the catfish twice
anything’s possible that time of day
my white sundress is a little bit dirty
from that red water that always stays so murky

I wouldn't want to be any other place
than down by the river where I always liked to play
and when the moon comes out tonight
and the stars shine bright
your sweet river lady
is going to sing to her sweet river man under the moonlight

watch those stars shooting in the dark as you hold me tight
until we see the sun start to rise
yeah down on the river where I always liked to play
nothing’s changed much since I was just a babe
but now I share with my sweet river man, my favorite place to play

Details | Prose Poetry | |


The primacy of love is 'totalmente' undisputed,
An authority of orderliness in a tumultuous society,
A powerful dose to subdue war;  
A conspicuous symptom of our world's malady.

Love 'originalism' is not 'paternalism' but an explicit form of 'maternalism',
It's not a brimborion expression nor a vacuous indoctrination,
It's not professions of some 'high-falutin' 'gran rabino',
But an absolute lifestyle of a dinkum person.

(c) 2011

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Someone Clue Me In

Somebody clue me in
Why oh why must this women toy with my emotions,
Once again dear lord why oh why does the phone keep ringing
And chicks call and hang up, I have gutting to the point I can tell what type
Of day they had by the way the phone ringing’s and hit the dial to hang up

I don’t what to say anything blasphemy or even out of character but even
A man has his breaking point, this is not another teen movie or sequel or even prequel
But I did not know I knew so many woman in till I got on facebook took two and half years
To clear up clarification of what was said and what  was  facts and fact is we was just friends nothing 
More Right all right …

Last twenty days I have gotting calls from a colordo spring company, Burbank CA, Albant Or,
Hudson,Fl, Hartwell Ga and who in the world does a fund raiser an nine clock on a Sunday,
You Should name the fund raise the “Unity Front” I know I been told all woman hate me or was
You just flirty I cant tell so cruel and ususally, why call from 0-0-0-0 number and pick up the second time 
and keep call me madma then call the next fifteen mintues and then I get a recording “saying goodbye”
This is not “Shaun of the dead”
This is not another teen movie but” Jason is my nickname” so how far do you want go?
But please don’t bus out my window glad my mom sold my car she didn’t bus out the windows of my car
Is the music effecting your behavior?

If you don’t know now you know I got call id, call waiting, speed dial, and the call that pop up
On the tv. And if you seen the "Big Hit" I got the bust buster buster do you know what that even is?
I get it I’m a nice guy too nice most men first call they get they said the first thing that comes to mind I 
wonder what word that is?,

And for the record I am not a celeb yet I might of spoken to a few
 here and there don’t even know 
How they know me truth be told I don’t have a dime to my name don’t seem like I going break the 
Bank anytime soon but yet I keep getting twitter invites borgobaby- love don’t live here any more life goes on.

Yes Sir, but for the record my fare lady oh im sorry my fare ladies I am not a player, 
Gentlemen a tier.
But once again my nickname is Jason so game over, the wait is over
and I must say I adore woman to the 
Fullest extension but love don’t live here anymore once more and 
I don’t what to play games like most 20 something 30 is acoming and sound more cool then “not 
between but tween” “not alright but all right all right all right”
and “absolutely”, “ 4up 4 down tip top” don’t for get I came up with most this "clinches" in 09’
But I choice to stay anonymous speaking of anonymous FedEx call at twelve where is my packages? 
Woman I don’t understand someone clue me in?
"A Poet and Still Running"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Should I die before you miss me

Should I die before you miss me

I spend my days dreaming about you
Dreaming about how good it felt just to be around you
I miss the smell of your hair; your smile and your sweet face
ShouId I die before you miss me
I want you to know I love every inch of you.

The love that i have for you even gods envy it.
Wherever I will be if I am allowed to envelope my heart;I will stamp it and address it to you.
You gave me hope when there was no hope
You gave me strength when I was losing the fight
Should I die before you miss me
I want you to know I would have changed everything about me so that I can be with you

You made me whole; when I was just a lost piece of the chess game
You became my queen and protected me like a King deserves
In anger I send you away
So should I die before you miss me
I need you to understand that you are the only one that can bring the sun to me .You are the only one that can make my name rest in the comfort of the sun. You're the only one that can let my soul dance in the grass .Should i die before you miss me i want you to know i will not rest till I find a way to walk into the corridors of your heart again.

written by Tawona M Ranganawa

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Trolling for Love

I'm floatin in a boat,
in the middle of the sea,
and I've got my trusty fishing rod with me.
I'm trolling for love, 
sweet, soft and demure,
so I cast our my line, 
and my heart is the lure.
come on precious mermaid, 
come hither sweet girl,
hop into my boat, 
and lets give it a whirl,
with our wing tips igniting, 
and our eyes brightly glowing,
deep passion pulsating, 
sweet liquid love flowing.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Proposal

The dearest heart you will be to me
affectionate I'll always be
reverent our love to see
lasting forever we both decree
In as much my deepest desire
is never to extinguish my fire
give my love each and every hour
pray  my God to give me that power
my lady, my love, my life
will you marry me

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sitting On The Grass

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 
you alone.

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 
your happiness,
use your vigor to promote
 your emotions,
 steal success,
 and throw away failure. 
Acknowledge your age 
to improvise
what is best for you,
 as looking backwards 
can have an impact 
on your life.

Young man,
 I need my children
I live in agony, an era
 that seems seamless 
without them,
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
young man?
Yes, I guarantee
they will rescue you,
before dawn.

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
  last 20$.
This is for you,  
to thank you for sitting
 on the grass with me.
 Young man, your image
will be engraved in my
thoughts, forever.

 Therese Bacha

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Grandad's Missing

There's a void, now
Where once a steadfast heart beat time
The soul in perfect harmony with life's uncertain pulse
With those who clambered eagerly in solace or in joy
To scale that mighty pinnacle
The Rock, within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
But marvel at the structure, the firmness of the ground beneath
The strata richly layered with wisdom of generations past
A fault free seam constructing firm foundations
Binding those within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
A hollow cavern 
echoing the anger and the pain
Trust time; it has no fear of finite elements
The source of unremitting pain
Within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
So fill the emptiness and catalogue the memories
Harvesting the richness of their meaning
The fullness of the seed sown long ago
To bloom forever within the bosom of the family

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The hand named Love

There is a hand out there
and it is named Love;
don't be alarmed,
for she is a lovely hand and she smiles at you,
yet I can't find her to save my life.
If you find that hand called love,
please could someone shake it for me,
yes- please shake it for me.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Rain the Clouds

bring home a sweet memory in every doing
leave back nothing but take them home
a saviour waits in your midst never forget
take them all back home where they belong

from your heart to your soul its always yours
no matter when your time is right home surely is
no matter how far yet with a hope they wait
all for a home one waits, like a rain and a cloud

nothing breaks it apart day or nightfall it comes
even sometimes to a surprise like a thief at night
do not forget take all back home on a Calvary hill
where it all begin waiting to take you home

peace and security, love and joy
free at will in his arms as he waits
remember your heart alone it matters most
for its you and for you like rain and clouds

never leaving you out of his sight, a sinner or not
it doesn't matter only your heart to draw you home
give it all you have till you have no more
its all free for now just take me home.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love and ice

When I sit alone in my ice block 
And I sing by hunger or cold 
I think,it’s paintfull the process, 
That without you I’m melting 
Buckets of hot blood are licking 
Thoughts as birds fly to you… 
I’m the prisoner of my own love, 
It fetters me and it’s flocking me 
Tramelled in fer of pollar fox 
I sit with my eyes on fire,so they can get 
Something of the hotness of a night in an igloo 
In frosted nord and solitary 
I have no body,what should I look in the mirror? 
Either a mirror I have.i don’t need. 
I mirror and I siwm in your look 
In nights with cold winds 
That blow the ice in your eyes. 
We hug at the end of world 
And your tear,from the pain of the crock of the ice 
Born,it makes a river at our feet. 
The aureole is then a rainbow 
We sit on the edge of the river and we fish: 
Dreams,then we divide them brotherly… 
In cold nights we hunt pollar foxs 
We run on the horses of dreams.Star dust 
Rises in the back the hoofs of horses of fire and wind 
We have no words in our mouths. 
We only have mouths that chew and fire 
Which melt the suplimentar ices. 
When we hold our hands 
The lava flows on snow 
And the fire slowly melts into water 
The rain washes the face of the sun 
The day comes hurried and when leaves 
The night,with small stars 
The fire starts in us. 
You burn slowly in the bed which has no wood in it 
When you show up in the sill of the door 
Un warm smile and the eyes become 
Blue ice,almost white. 
The whole darkness enters to us 
And turns off the vision about time. 
The dawn comes more difficult 
I found myself in your arms, 
In sleep and in dream…

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sunny Day

Rays of sunshine dancing on my back 
This flamenco goes on all afternoon 
The ripples glisten with the light 
Sitting here next to the lake 
Everywhere, colours are out to play 
The green in the grass 
The blue in the sky 
The pink in your lips 


I offer you a strawberry 
From the picnic that you brought 
The sweet smell entwines with the flowers 
That scatter where we are sat 
Your head on my lap 
I stroke your golden hair 
Catching my pinkie on a bead of sweat 
That trickles from your forehead 
You laugh and go to take off your sunglasses 

I stop you 

Your eyes would make the whole day 
Seem the night 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost into a deep black hole

I was trapped
and bemused
feeling sad
and confused
a subatomic particle
lost into a deep black hole
and suddenly
you stuck in your magic telescope
and I opened up
like a flower
I shot out like a periscope
a mystical kaleidoscope
like a solar flare 
without a care
my heart exploded into a supernova
and then, 
I woke up in your constellation
a phantasmagorical revelation
so ecstatic
and divine
and sublime
I'm staying here forever, 
until the end of time.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Read my lips.
With your lips. 
They’re saying kiss,
Kiss me.
In the rain,
In the back of my car.
Read my lips that are saying,
Don’t break my heart. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You The Symbiotic Fantasy

Hi....You the Symbiotic fantasy, I want to paint You on my Background Of the minds canvas, By some soft and smooth Stroke of my artistic brush. Your tremble and nimble eyes Are the symbol of eternal beauty. Your soft and sweet pair of lips Can defeat the petals of rose. There is a simple honesty In every groove of Your glamorous Physique. Your rosy cheeks is the Beautiful example of Erotic sentiments. Aristocracy on your Perfectly round bosom. A silent invitation in Your sparkling eyes, Desires message mirrored On your full lips. I can feel the waves of heat Rise from you. A hidden jewel perfect And priceless.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Who i am

Who i am

Gazing at the mirror observing what I see,
all might not be perfect, but it all belongs to me.
In the eyes of the mirror, a woman beckoned me,
when I looked at her from head to toe, I just love what I see.
 There might have been a part of me, that to me was never known,
 i would have search to find it, if I had only known. 
This love for myself that was embedded inside confused an approaching frown
 and the moment I spent to discover myself, my world Turned upside-down.

I was afraid of people saying, "Who does she think she is?"
 Now i have the courage to stand and say "this is who i am".
 Never will i follow the majority of living a life of constant duplicity,
 as a successful rebellion, take me as I am, or watch me walk away.
 What makes me, me is my originality, with lots of sincerity
 and I cherish this freedom which lies in being me.

The eyes of the society might not project its light on me,
but never will this bring me down or makes me think less of me.
 No external source will fulfill my void, within me i find my eternal joy.
 Known life's is too short to be self- obsessed but when my eyes sent me a rainbow
 filled with gentle colors that project confident within me, 
my world seems brighter each time i opened up the window of my face. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lingering Glance

Silent moments together that Creates passionate desire.
Feeling the closeness of nature that bloomed on face of the one we admire,
creating warmth that ignites into a burning fire, giving feelings that takes us
to the seven heavens or even higher...

Gazing in nature marvel as our eyes met each other so profound that
 we immediately drowned into each other's gaze. Holding each other there,
 and no use for words to say, as we exchange a visible frisson in lingering glance.

Bodies so close while we shared a romantic dance, a sensation like a hypnotic trance,
 Then our heart takes over and emotions conquered the rest searching for comfort,
 I rest my head upon his chest. Feeling the pounding of his heart that beats only love for me

Accepting the gift of love that overflows the hearts. Awaken flame 
which makes no other pleasure feels the same. A complete satisfaction of wholeness
That goes beyond physical attraction to a deeper commitment. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

One Red Flag

As I look around me, I see beauty that my eyes have never seen before….like taking in a majestic view of the Rockies…I never knew that beauty such as this existed. I feel ever so fortunate to have stumbled across this, surreal, breathtaking, making my heart skip a beat…air so crisp…no thoughts, only seeing what’s there….the splendor of it all, hearing nature exist, the striking landscape, the fresh pine scent, not believing what my eyes are seeing. Wondering how much longer could something so astonishing last, experiencing this all for the first time, I soak it in. Delightful, feeling free, I stretch out my arms and just spin around, like a little girl in a field of flowers….until I hear a sound. A sound that doesn’t belong in this picture, almost like a flapping sound. I scan the valley, the mountains, the lake, being so blind by the exquisiteness, I find it hard to find the source of this noise … this noise that is interrupting my happiness in my moment. Searching and searching …I find where the sound is deriving from….standing alone in the distance, almost lost in the surrounding scenery…is one solitary red flag. Flapping in the pine scented wind, the red flag is dominating, even from a distance. Had it been there all along? How could I have not seen it? Was I that blinded by my regal surroundings that I never saw it? Like a stain, the flag is ruining everything, taking away from the beauty I behold. But this flag is all too familiar. I have walked through a field full of them, like weeds among flowers, I tried to walk around them, to smell the flowers….but eventually all the flowers wilted…until I was in a field of flags…crimson red flags. But this is only one…one flag…will I choose to ignore it in order to be surrounded by this beauty…or does the flag make it all seem like a dream that fades away…will I find myself amongst more red flags…until I’m tripping over them …or will I walk up to the flag and pull it up out of the ground and throw it away…in order to stay blinded by this beauty….who would have thought…that one red flag…would play such a important part in my life….one….red…flag….

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Storm of feelings inside me,
high, cold walls around me,
I just love you, nobody else, just you, "amore!"
It's hard to fight when my mind wants you,
my heart beats for you, every cell of my body
exists for loving you!
You are not mine, and maybe you'll never be,
but the stars, the whole universe moves
before this storm
of feelings, the sun isn't strong enough to
fight it,
the Earth shakes every time when I think of
only the ocean can absorb and calm my soul,
but nothing can stop this eruption of pure,
simple love!
You want to be loved, but you don't know how
to love.
You want to open your heart, but it has been
closed too long.
You want to be caught by the storm,
but you only know how to run from it!
Then run!
Wherever you go, wherever you hide, every
cloud, every raindrop you'll see.
It's going to be me, "amore,"
me and my storm of feelings!

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Where do I sit.
On the floor at your feet  ?
I cannot readily pull up a seat
Joining the crowded
table of your life.
I cannot see where 
there's room for one more.
This love I have for you is to big
to be petty.
To grave to be shallow.
Too full to be empty
Everyone here is clamoring
 to be next to you...
Do not squeeze me into
your overcrowded life.
 My bold love cannot
bear to kowtow   
 You invited me here
Allow me- Where do I sit ?
I, the not so-obsequious one
There's no-one in your lap..
May I be seated.?

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Americans say that India is the largest democratic country .

Asians say that India is the country of spiritualism .

Australians say that India is the country of huge crowd . 

Africans say that India is the country of great M . K . Gandhi .

Europeans say that India is the country of philosophy . 

Politicians say that India is our strategic partner .

Economists say that India is one of the best place for investment .

Communists say that India is the perfect soil for communism . 

Capitalists say that India is the market of products .

Historians say that India is the center of history .

Poets say that India is the country of Rabindranath Tagore and lovers

Everybody says many many sentences about India !

Although soul of India says to her people
"You are citizens of India but residents in the world .
And the World is your original mother land ." 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

If only

If only I understood what you weren’t saying

If only I read the statements your body spelt

If only you took my hands

If only you had me stay

If only you drew me to your racing heart

If only

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Twinkling eyes

Twinkling eyes that sparks, funny how emotions can takes over the heart
Impossible words that is hard to find, thinking one movement and he might cross
the line.  He wore his pride like a badge, but the wounds in his heart is deep,
and for him to love again is just a broken dream.

Even through loneliness scream when he’s under his sheet,
He rather succumb to its sting, other than listened to the silence song his
Heart had to sing. Known his heart is a self made wall,
And he’s not the type of man she should tell how much she loved afterall.

Thoughts kept running through his mind when he recall
how profound he looked her in the eyes. Making him feelings so awkward that
 he could not control all he knew is having her besides him daily, his love will grows.
He realize that her tender care is the only thing that keeps him alive, yet he 
Settled with routine and afraid go beyond the boundaries.

She reaches out to feel his touch, but somehow had not get enough
Thinking of going her way, but she knew her mind will suffer in everyway
He took her in his arms, where she found security. Hands in hands 
She looked in her lover eyes and saw the love inside and
Made him show the feelings, he always had to hide
Tears fell down his face as emotions takes over
his body language says everything and there things became clear.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Thoughts from the Mind of a Blogger

It was a chilly morning in paradise...

Autumn was already here...

A time for strange things to happen, as it is that time of year...

She was up most of the night, doing a write....

Regarding some hubs and her series titled "Legend of Fred "

Ahh the questions she had... rolling around in her head..

Were “where were her readers, her followers “ her Hubbers...?

They had all seemed to like what she wrote in the past..

But lately her hubs were falling so fast....

She had written articles on health and life..

perhaps she had targeted too much strife...

Maybe they wanted to read about food..

But when you're not a cook, that would be kinda rude..

Oh, will wonders never cease ?

So she decided she'd get some zzzzz's

She lay in her bed, not moving at all...

but breathing quite deeply, as I saw the covers fall...

So I stretched my muscles and walked ever so slow..

So as not to wake her , then I spied her big toe..

Sticking out from the was such a temptation..

And with me having such a" foot fixation".. however...

She needed the rest , so she can finish her quest..

I have some thoughts of my own...

that I would like to share in a poem..

And I would be happy to help her.. but..

I don’t think the world is ready for me...

as I am a BLOGGING CAT.. you see

So I will close for now...everyone have a great

I'm off to seek something that has a tweak and a squeak..

Details | Prose Poetry | |


nobody to dream about
now that your gone
no happy thoughts to set
my dreams on
no waiting spirit
to give my love to
no future plans 
of what we would do
my hope was murdered
by fate and cause
my wishes denighed
by one simple clause
i wanted because of you
things i could'nt have
but wanted them for you
there went my striving
my will to live on
waking for another day
without you in my arms
my fairy tale ended
as shakepeare's tragities
everyday wondering
what will become of me
i write these words
with tears in my eyes
my deepest emotions
i give with pride
the truest love 
there will ever be
is a love that 
will mourn for thee

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Soul Awakening

Soul Awakening

Wrapped in your arms
My soul awakened 
From a long dark sleep
My heart is now alive
No more do I weep
My lover’s smile 
So tender and true
A sweet ray of God’s sunshine 
Lead me to you
Blissful now
Content somehow 
Where once my heart 
Was pummeled 
And pounded
No more do I fear
Love sounds
Love is now all that I hear
So hold me close
My darling one
With you by my side
All fear is gone….

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You are lovely with your Irish eye's

I'm always thinking about you The only subject in my mind. Like the lines of Shakespear's sonnet Nothing wrong in you have to find. The most beautiful flower in the world is rose, That's you my beloved girl. I fall in a love for eternity, With you my enormous pearl. You are lovely with your Irish eye's, Like the full-moon on the sky. I dazzled, happy see your smile, My princess, a great creation of Thy. Two heart pounding into one, The world conspiring us to unite. This poem is for you my love, Please, don't take it ease and light.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

her name is love

her name is love

i am so pregnant with love
when she's born, call her love
by the winds and treasures of love
i (will) wrap her in comfort of love
and grow her a culture of love
in tears and joy for love
to love and share love
cuddle with her in love
seduce to stand by her with love
stick besides her like love
with pure love 
without denial by love
carry me as you dry me, 
a tear of love
as i am caught between love
to tease me for love
and brand me a love
to call her love
....let me call her love

extracted from 'her name is love' an except from 'hands of hope' book no.9 of 2012 (august) .
ntema's unique poetry (nup)

Details | Prose Poetry | |


MY LOVE - straight from my heart......

My love is not just a name of yours written on sand;
which can be easily washed by watery waves away.
but; it is something that is craved in streaks of my hand;
which can never ever be rubbed by any one away.

My love is not just an aroma that comes with haze;
which will be easily blown away by allied like air.
It is the cluster of your memories to kill my every rage;
which will never ever keep us apart at any reason fair.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Today God Asked

do you love her?
cant you see it in my tearfull eyes
and when i am angry
what hurts me inside
what are my worries 
and why do i cry
why cant i just forget the things
i want to hide from my pride
what are these prayers
while walking and wondering
why do i suffer 
from yearning and longing
as if grief is not enough

why is it that i refuse 
to be comforted by anyone else
why do i feel so sorry for myself
no one seems to know my pain
nor does the one i love
when my voice should make it so plain
it doesn't have a choice
it can feel her name
is it a greater sin to covet
what i wish i had
and is blaming God, all together bad
why am i constantly reminded
that it is time to let go
yet hoping, always for an open door
and while i suffer all these pains
i never know if they are for loss or gain
when or if they will ever end
or do they just come again and again
do i love her?!!!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Has No Reply

Love has no reply-it just waits- 
love has no reply - it just prays- 
Love understands- as it hopes 
that rage will be quelled- 
That the core of your heart will 
be overwhelmed- 
and overruled-Disenchantments 
of the venial mind-are allowable 
If you never intend to exhale- 
then inhalation is inevitable. 
Demons seek company - 
Presenting illusions to keep misery 
side tract' in sorrowful elegies 
The cardinal mentation-will automatically 
tick when you tock -- 
Tock when you tick- 
You came here with no instructions-- 
Love requires no action 
Does not have to reply 
No matter the jargon 
the meaning of "no"is the same. 
Whether you wax or wane
with wagers parlayed 
invest in the" WAIT" like the yellow light 
"Spread your bet-green light- keep moving 
Not always smart- to bet on a sure thing- 
red light stop wait -think about 
what you're thinking of doing- 
win win situation 
Prior truth is not necessary for 
what is "yet to be believed" 
Permanent solutions 
should never be applied to A   
temporary condition. 
The efficacious-ness of the syringe as a method in 
seeking answers to concepts --is horribly ineffective.   
Love has no reply--- No outside stimuli - 
No dos or don't s ... from the I ... 
Strictly and inside Job

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Dawn rises, and the Sun is Grey, again : One can hear the tears flowing.
The nakedness of the mighty Oak :  Withers : In the shadow of “ LIFE “
I watch “Mother Nature”  cry Tears of pain : in the West wind blowing
I catch those tears of Pain: For My Beloved  “ LENORE “  My “ WIFE “
In the darkness after Dawn ; in the Ebony of the Moonlight  : I still Live
Sullenly, I reminisce  of the LIGHT of the Past ; When I still had a Heart
As the Shadow of Death , follows me into an abyss, where only Death can Survive 
I think of Winters gone by, before the History of Forever : was torn Apart
Through the Corridors of  unknown Sanity  :my eyes cry tears of Empathy,  Dead
There is no morning Dew, on flowers wilted in a new Life  of nonexistence
In the Gloomy Mist of time forgotten I stare at Heaven from my Eternal bed
Hewn from a tree standing alone in a Forest , of Humanities nonexistence
Blinded my the Aura of death I seek a rebirth of Light in me to shine in my eye
           Will I ever Know : as I once Knew " LOVE " ~ before I Die ~

     Inspired by the Contest : " Dark Prose " Sponsored by " Catie Lindsey "

Dedicated to my Lost LOVE "Lenore" ; My LOVE Anew EVERLASTING " Barbara Jean "

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Unconditional Dog

First of all, it’s a big responsibility,
especially in a city like Jacksonville, or Philadelphia, or wherever really.
So think long and hard before deciding on love.
On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security:
when you’re walking down the street late at night
and you have a leash on love
ain’t no one going to mess with you.
Because crooks and muggers think love is
Who knows what love could do in its own defense?
Broken glass bottles.

On cold winter nights, love is warm.
It lies between you and lives and breathes
and makes funny noises.
Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.
It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.

Love doesn’t like being left alone for long.
But come home and love is always happy to see you.
It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life,
but you can never be mad at love for long.

Is love good all the time? No! No!
Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.

Love makes messes.
Love leaves you little surprises here and there.
Love needs lots of cleaning up after.
Somethimes you just want to get love fixed.
Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper
and swat love on the nose,
not so much to cause pain,
just to let love know “Don’t you ever do that again!”

Sometimes love just wants to go out for a nice long walk.
Because love loves exercise. It will run you around the block
and leave you panting, breathless. Pull you in different directions
at once, or wind itself around and around you
until you’re all wound up and you cannot move.

But love makes you meet people wherever you go.
People who have nothing in common but love
stop and talk to each other on the street.

Throw things away and love will bring them back,
again, and again, and again.
But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.
And in return, love loves you and never stops.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Manly Man

"Manly Men"
Manly Men are never alone
We have pride and honor to help keep us company. 
Our strength's are many, both seen and un-seen alike.
Tangible and Invisible.

Manly men have no feminine side
We are natural leaders and fathers
We are Gentle and Kind
Protective and Vigilant
Nurturing and Giving.
In a manly way.

Manly Men sing and laugh
And embrace the mornings dawn
As another testament for their
Love of life and wife and family.

Manly Men cook and clean
We feed good food and make
Warm beds for all who come to stay.
It is our way to give and share
The honor we bear for being
Manly Men.

It is our way to love the day
and all those we take in our 

Beware you unkind, un-noble few
Our wrath we seldom show
Manly men face danger 
And destruction we can

A Manly man's embrace is wide and good
His smile can rule the day.
A manly man attracts good friends
and loves his family.
And they in turn, love him for who he is.... 
Their manly man.

So take a look at what you see
Be bold and strong and clear.
A manly man has nothing to fear
As long as his heart is true.

Stand Up, Be heard and sing
A manly mans good song.....
Life is good and great and kind
with a woman by his side.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Like Mother Hen

"Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it"
Swedish Proverbs

All the while I went my way
Hot hostility halt my been gay
Anger defiled my melodious voice
Frightened love, fled far from been mine
Each dawn grew my melancholy phase
Still you cared, it made me amazed
Each of thy smiles slightly faded my repugnant scowl
It a little, shamed by burning anger
My heart pictured if thy world was true
I began to believe for I was always at rest with you
Many a time I would have gone back
But amidst my distressing scowl,
Mama smiled like my scowl was a charming smile
Felicitations of envy I'd give to men
But you were ever gentle and patient 
An insolent child is not thrown away, I'd
Hear her say
Just before hate could ruined me
You gave me reason to believe love is true  
Slow ridding years mended my heart
Your incessant warmth refined me
Your warm embrace taught me the 
Way of love; comforting, reassuring 
Ever patient and forgiving
You showed me the beauty of love
Now the world is a mirror
When I smile they smile bright too
You are the constant sky in my life
I love you mama

For the contest “The Right Time” written by Ingibo Benson
Fourth July 2011

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mary Beth

Mary Beth You remind me of the sun, soft and warm. Not yet touched by the hands of December days. Maybe October's fingers have fondled you skin, but not enough to leave scars of chilling days. I Love the sun as I Love you, winters frighten me away, they're so cold and bitter. Please, avoid December days, and I'll bring on August months. I believe in you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Open Letter To The Golden Black Angel

The black angel on earth, the one proud of her skin
The hot chocolate in Africa, the one with glorious power
The ebony strength beneath the sun, the one full of sensuous splendor.

The golden black angel, the one flying the clouds
The shining star in the rich land, the woman defining beauty
The rich, the warm, the dark, the glittering flower breathing in Africa.

Just look at her eyes, the narrow eyes sliding to the sides
Just give a glance to her ruby lips, these syrupy, luscious and tepid lips
Just stare closely at her smile, am sure you are zooming the sun.

I feel her hypnotizing presence, the soothing aroma in the world
I feel her soporific nature, the one that naturally sends me to the sky
I feel her wafting movements, the movements worth every sane eye
I feel her tantalizing voice, Scandalizing my ears to lick it.

Am i forgetting her curves, the curves surpassing enchanted love potions?
Am i forgetting her manners, the manners giving me bedroom tendencies?
How can i? How can i not talk of the African woman? Eh? Tell her i adore her

Yours African,
Mzee Mwau.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The sunrise of your sacred love

the sunrise of your sacred love,
paints the hollow desert in my mind,
scattered grains of windblown thoughts,  
frozen remnants from another time,
your liquid brush scrape shards of pain,
from deep within my dark terrain,
and like a scarlet phoenix I rise again,
I climb your thighs,
and stroke your breasts,
I kiss your luscious, tender lips,
drink your luminescent eyes,
and dive right in,
such a surprise.
I didn't realize, 
that your love would be like this,
you've raised me from a dark abyss,
and placed me deep within your heart,
I'm warm, content and gently smiling,
lost forever,
in your love beguiling.

(from the chapter "Divinity of Woman" in Love's True Home, now available online in
hardcover, paperback, and as an e-book)

Details | Prose Poetry | |

What We Shared

Take my hand and help me climb, wedge my tumble,
Let me lean on thee, halt my heart throb, humble
Me with thy warmth. Once there was a guy who
Knew me and identified  with me, my heart
Would skip at the sight of him. "I love you"
He had said to me. His lovely smile
Thought me gentleness. His caress made my 
Heart dream of an eternal bond. And it
came to pass that he found me for a bride
But he passed away with the enraged wind  
Of life and my heart had since endured this 
Coup. None have been like my John, no; Their brain 
Registers no truth. Love is not money,
No, nor is it honey. Love is all so
Deeper than beauty or form. Oh! It's what 
My John and I shared. Beauty shall always
Urge body attraction, attitude shall
Birth true interest and commitment shall 
Birth care. Money maintains love, not money
Brings love, my teacher had once said to me
Rich or Poor, man has a right to be loved.
They say everything  that goes around
Must come around. Let the coin turn it's back
And bring me love with treasured moments or 
Let tide and time reverse, that I might meet
My John, and enjoy what time had denied us.

It is completely fiction.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Sometimes everything seems fake to me, and I am so tired of people acting like they remember what love is. 
Everyone says it. 
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
No words are more meaningful to me when sailing from the lips of a true friend or a kindred spirit, but the rest of you have to be careful where you point those syllables 
because that’s like taking the closest thing to

 the Lord’s name that I ever understood
in vain. 
I was walking back from the gas station a few weeks ago and some girl I didn’t even know looked at me and said it. 
Her lip gloss opening and closing like some kind of sea creature fishing for plankton, and I just happened to be the nearest thing drifting past.
“Love you!”, like it was hello. 
Now I have just one question
You have no idea what I am. 
My smile’s like this because my parents had the money. 
My eyes are not the windows to my soul. 
They don’t mean jack except for genetics that I had no control over, and what my mother ate when I was in utero. 
That’s like acting like my poetry is who I am. 
Like how myelinated the neurons in my linguistics center 
I can feel the right to decide that I am more or less, valuable. 
It happened again earlier too.
I was sitting on the greyhound back home, having a conversation with a girl with guys all around her like fire ants with their mating tubes out. All of them with ink, piercings, and sizing me up 
because my six-foot-four stature could not speak for itself.
I’d like to think we talked about something more important than my assets and destination, but as she turned to disappear out of the bus with her escorts, she cast the three words back on me
like throwing a fishing line on the off chance something might bite,
“I love ya.”
….what in the world. 
After this, I think of the only one whose words held their weight. 
I don’t mean no harshness, 
but if I could go back in time and have half the balls my poetry does, I’d take you aside, and tell you something you wouldn’t understand. Something like, “BAM! I am a tulip field on fire at sunset.” 
Something like, “My shirt, is from the Goodwill.” 
Something like, “You’re telling me Christ could have saved the world with His cheekbones?”
“You’re telling me I’m viable and worth a few minutes of your attention?”
“You’re telling me tall, black, and attractive is what’s in this century?” 
But let me tell you.
You don’t have any idea of the size of the planets you’re saying you want to try and swallow when you say those words to me. 
I’ve been waiting to be able to hear, feel, taste, smell, and know those words for too long. You have to mean them to say them. 
But you see, I was a philosopher before I was a poet, so I have to take that back and reflect it on myself. 
The truth is, I’m so confused that sometimes, I don’t know which end my head is at.

Poetry flies in my eyeballs that should never make it past my lips, but I’m getting tired of trying to impress people. 
In this past month, I’ve been day dreaming about the girl smiling at me and it meaning more than
“You look like you got good genetics”
“Could I please date your self esteem?”
I’ve been day dreaming of the girl who reminded me of what those three words are supposed to mean. 
Like when my acne came back, and you told me not to scratch at a handsome face.
“I love you.”
Like when my poetry departs, and all I can do is ramble things too big for my head. 
“I love you.” 
Like when I didn’t feel like just a romantic stereo type anymore. 
“I love you.” 
What those words meant to me, before I made the world make them less.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Thread of Hope

As all I’d ever termed wondrous bliss unexpectedly died -
As my fantasy of a reality with destruction did collide -
My hopes shattered around me like glass in countless pieces,
Fragments suspended in mocking beauty as time freezes…

The clock hand ticks forward and it all crashes to the floor
My knees hit rock-bottom when I could take no more
All I now see is blackness where once there was color
Gone appears the light from the sun and its fervor…

I begin to walk away from the pond of shattered dreams
But the glass is in my clothes and cutting through my heart, it seems
Perhaps I am too close, the smoke is clouding my full view-
Glance up at the tower, instinctively know what to do…

Run up the steps; one, two,three hundred endless stairs
And I barely catch my breath, or have time to fill lungs with air -
Before the ground beneath my feet crumbles into sand
Loud thunder above me rumbles as I fall back down on land…

And I hit rock-bottom again
Thinking this must be the end
For surely no human can go through this pain
And still see rainbows through the rain…

The whole world seems gray and black tonight
With not a speck of pure, identifiable white in sight
Nothing is untouched, gone is everything -
Then how do I glimpse in that crack a thin white string?

Among the dirt, surely this uncorrupted clean string is not real
But just to verify the hopeless doubts, I reach out a hand to feel
And to my electric surprise, it’s most tangible indeed
I yank it out attached to a note, uncrumple it and read:

“Verily, with every hardship comes ease” [Quran 94:6]

That white thread...
Of hope.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

BEYOND by Anna Lo P

..beyond fantasy, beyond reality
  beyond past, beyond present
  beyond belief, beyond faith 
  beyond imperfection, beyond beauty
  beyond youth, beyond gray.

  beyond joy, beyond hurt
  beyond honesty, beyond lies
  beyond truth, beyond doubts
  beyond humility, beyond pride
  beyond good, beyond evil.
  beyond kindness, beyond cruelty  
  beyond happiness, beyond sadness
  beyond possession, beyond obsession
  beyond boundaries, beyond time
  beyond death, beyond Life.

  To surpass all these, lies both their Fate.
  He will find Her, to have a purpose & see the light
  She will find Him, to have a meaning & feel the life
  Fortuity, Serendipity, Fate and Destiny 
  They'll meet again, holding onto their Love & Faith...


Details | Prose Poetry | |


When I tumbled into your azure eyes
I didn't realize 
that I would land so deep
like a liquid tumbleweed
I swam into your beating heart
crimson tidal wave
tsunami in your chest
circling nipples on your breasts
purple kisses, 
swollen lips
lightning from your fingertips
drowning deep within you
is the only way to go
when my mind stops breathing
your sweet love starts to flow
I drink you now
imbibe your essence
I am your skin
bright effervescence
in your presence I behold
all the secrets left untold
saturated with your passion
drenched by you
pure satisfaction

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love's Symphonic Passion

Love's Symphonic Passion
                                by Odin Roark

Shimmering whispers urge forth,
A beginning seeks release from darkness,
The voicing of struggle proclaims arrival,
Like miniature cymbals of resolute announcement,
The humble cries of emergence
Clash ever so quiet with air and space,
Once portending grace,
Now its melodic genesis.

The matrixes of parent/conductor
Anxiously hum nursery rhymes
Through white enameled side-rails,
Vertical portals to unfettered ears,
Absorbing even when sleeping,
Evolving passion's invitation.

The precious first movements
Grow from those one-finger dissonant phrases,
Sometimes pounded upon the black and white landscape
Where an merging piccolo's infant smile
Finds support by paternal contra bass and maternal cello echoes.

Remembrances of tinkling melodies
Soon enjoin its pure and simple
With conflicted movements of trial and error,
Evolving the inevitable adagio of growing up.

Hence forth
The scherzo's innocence of adolescence
Crescendos into threatening measures,
Where layered tones of choices
present challenge,
counterpoint to independence,
or sympatric harmony.

The family of voicing
Develop love's thematic material,
And more complex harmonies,
Creating the free fantasia,
A coalescing of passion's varied workouts.

Its strings worn thin,
Arriving at life's largo movement of peace,
That place of reflective consonance,
The weight of its chambered containment
Rests forth its closing bars,
Housing now but the waning echo of a baby's chorus.

Its shimmering whispers
Float upon one last wave of the baton,
Stirring life's ethereal essence
Into heroic chorus
A higher bonding…

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A.A. Milne's Intuition and the Magic in Nothing-Else-To-Do.

“This is where we are,” I said, as I aimlessly threw pebbles to my left...
and my hand ripped grass, the destruction of Spring and the creation of happiness as we
gathered ourselves in the midst of nothing-to-do, my nails recovered dirt as my palms
discovered life and he

carelessly, without thought, as if it was the only thing to do...

I checked my knees for bruises and found the fading black and blue of Pennsylvania, the
pattern resembled the horizon we gazed at beyond the cliffs where my feet felt slightly
unsure and my fear of heights dared me to step one inch closer to the edge, I had watched
him and found his fearlessness to be divine as he went two inches and ignored the rocks I
had payed close attention to race to the bottom of nowhere as if to find the somewhere
that existed...

beneath us...

I gazed up into sunshine and followed the trail of Saturday clouds, dreams scattering
themselves, their shapes secrets that hid in the middle pages of picture books, and I
imagined us as my tongue spoke the wisdom of A.A. Milne and thought about the
intuitiveness of childhood, I smiled, and inched closer to his side...

“Here we are,” he sighed, slipping his hand underneath the back pocket of my favorite
tattered blue jeans, and as his fingers fumbled with the frays in my fabric, he kissed me,
once, on the lips, a Saturday quiet where only we existed in the time it took breath to
meld and touch, and settle weeks beneath skin in the slight chill of April, and I nodded
as the sky watched us and thought..

we'd make a beautiful picture book, we'd settle in the middle of a page whispering secrets
that could create the smile that spoke of youth.

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Filbert - Fall

It's fall they say it is today,
The leaves so pretty,
Gold and red
Falling every where.

Around my house
And in my yard
The leaves decorate
Colors I love to see...

Sniff... sniff.... sniff....
I love the smell
Of leaves from fallen trees.
It's fall....

The trees are getting ready to sleep....
Winter is coming with it's comforting Blanket
To awake again in the Spring,
My trees.

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Forgotten Clothes and Stolen Whiskey

She left me cold, like a forgotten sweater.

Walked right out the door, without even checking the weather.

Now I’m crumpled up by the fireplace, frayed by the rough

edges of ashen bricks that smell of burnt flowers and sun tan lotion:

That stuff she always seemed to smell like, even in the harsh depths of winter. 

But coconut oil and rose petals aren’t enough to regulate body temperature;

So, I guess it was the whiskey that kept her flush that night,

because in the heart pocket of my jacket that she stole  

was a flask of absolution.

Each block she rounded, she doused her frigid organs with

another shot to warm the notion of shattering the path we built.

Fueling a new engine, to carry her blur past the life we once thought

was forged by two souls meant to keep each other warm.

But now this existence is kindled by abandoned perrineals 

and bloodshot revelation. 

I watch fire kissed petals curl up into themselves and gasp

for love’s last embrace until there’s nothing left for the 

fire to feed upon. 

It’s 3 A.M. 

The smoke is beginning to dissipate;

her throat is dry, her legs are tired. 

…We’re both so tired. 

I pull her sweater from the bricks,

feel the wool tear and clench my ribs. 


I fold her warmth gently as if tending

to a wounded animal and tuck it

beneath my skull; hoping for dreams 

of summer nights, but sleep won’t come.

It left with her. 

She has reached her apartment.

Staggering toward the door, 

she thrusts shaking hands into

my jacket in search of keys.

The flask falls onto the concrete,

the last drops spill out. 

There is nothing left.

The door opens, and she falls to the bed,

cold in the leather too uncomfortable to return. 

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved

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A running chestnut or no - on essay,idiocracy

Altogether unprofitable sentimental but no fool they call him an old sap 		        The taste of knowledge to him is sweet to get more valuable than sap to a tree	   even more valuable than the gold that runs from seven hills					 prolongs the days: but the years of the wicked shall be shortened.				  The Lord does hate pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth         the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom with an expected end pure love                  as God gives the increase I have tasted the Lord is gracious				           A strong warning from the savior Jesus He is Lord						   whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire                                      some may say the old sage is just saber rattling 					             Essayage the shoe on the other foot walking a mile				                   in someone else shoes who has two left feet and one leg longer				          truly your feet are bound to get sore circling around the mountain 	 			    just assaying the metal who is your maker I know mine 					         For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 						        works for us a far more exceeding eternal weight of glory						 I am not straining gnats just spitting out the the filthy camel 				      Love the Lord God Jesus and every man your neighbor                             all the glory of man as the flower of grass like sagebrush					     God made foolish the wisdom of this world                				put your faith and hope in God and not in men 								 though man's urban inflections change the Word of the Lord stands sure                       Everlasting superior are God's ways than man's momentary dullness

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Stolen Hearts

Cold, callus, crying, shivering,
and covered in sweat.
Wondering what has happened.
Not yet understanding this fate I’ve met.

What of a guy that stumbled around,
just trying his hardest to show he’d been found,
after all he had just been purchased
from the human pound.

That promise to you.
Man I broke it.
I told you Id stop,
and for a time I did,
but that stuff two blocks away,
my will power just wasn't work-n.
My wrist watch again broken.
Always from the look on my face,
you could tell Id been smoke-n.

You tried.
You tried so hard,
but the mind wasn’t mine.
only a shell of what used to be,
all of me you were trying to find,
and I didn’t get this till my alone time.

I was pushing.
You were pulling.
Then it all pushed you away.
It was all down hill from here,
so naturally you couldn’t stay.

I sit here so sad
for the way you must of felt.
Let alone how you dealt.
Ill never understand how I could do this to you.
You're so prefect,
even your aura dances in ambient light.
You’re the best friend I could of had,
and that leaves me really mad,
that the rest of the world
may never know what we had.

The thing is I know now,
that you loving me.
This really was Much more,
than I loving you.

~Ha,Turned around this insecurity was always mine.~

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Love is as Love does 
love does makes demands 
Love demands' no expectations
Only IF we are driven- 
by Love will our 
love be of any value' 
Love is Kind but not cautious 
Love is even foolish 
Oft times silly and unwise. 
Love even takes bold chances
Love is a driving force 
a dutiful obligation 
your love interest may 
give nothing back in return.
So love what is it good for?

Love is the beat in your heart 
and the "Good " you have
put into motion, that keeps
the energy forces going -- 
keeps the heartbeat- beating  
and the blood flow- flowing. 
As our purposes are fulfilled 
Love keeps us alive-
Love what is it good for ?
Absolutely everything.

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the game

i make a move 
and you make a move
and that is how the game
is played
a little clue
handed over to you 
and wait until
intentions are made
sometimes it takes a while
and sometimes it takes a smile 
to continue what may have begun
a little hope and alot of rope
to find if feelings are being shuned
it's all the same weather young or old
falling in love is like finding gold
a beautifull cake with all the trimmings
a wonderful life you've enjoyed living
the end of a wonderful day is at bay
and tommarow yet another wonderful day
i dream at night and durring the day
that you will see my heart and play
i make a move and
you make a move
and that is how our love is proved

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Did You Observe It

One day I said to love
Will you be rain
She is speechless !

Next day I expressed to love 
Will you be sunshine
She is soundless !

Day after day , I have been requesting her
Will you be sky
Will you be bird
Will you be my pleasure
She is silent !

one day love says to me
You will be soil
And I shall be flower

Thenceforth when the flower kisses to the soil
Memorial of  love is created at that place

Did you observe it !


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For You I Belong

When the time passed through
The laughter deserted by the absent of you 
Filled by the emptiness, 
Sink by the loneliness

Whenever I cornered by the uncertainty
Standing alone to my anxiety
You were there, paved the ambiance of the bright
Pulled me back through the light 

For you are my sunshine
For you are my moonlight
The world would not be complete without you
'Cause the world got the half of me in you

Recall the moment when I'm with you
The warmth last in our point of view
And I desire you felt the same way too
That I was there 'cause belonging to you

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I see my life on the edge of a sword
And yet, I walk willingly.
With each step I take,
It cuts deeper into my flesh.
The blood pours out of my soul,
And I scream.
Yet I feel some relief,
As I walk to my destiny,
Not wavering,
Not tripping,
Not stopping.
Closer to Me,
This is all I ever hope to be.

Does my heart not bleed enough?
Does my soul not suffer enough,
That you have to cause me pain?
More grief,
More sorrow….
So much pain,
So much, so much.
Tired, weary
Trudging through.
Is this the light,
Where I see you?
Is it just an illusion?
Why are you playing games with me?
Am I not of you?
Deep in your soul, does it not hurt you to hurt me?

The sword cuts into my flesh,
Deeper and deeper,
As I walk forward to you.
Yet walking back looks harder.
This double serrated edge.
My feet are cut,
My soles are bare.
My soul is bare.

I have nothing left,
You deserted me there.
You opened up my heart,
And you planted seeds of hope and of sorrow
And you let them grow.
Now the wretched thorns of the beautiful blooms,
Prevent me from ever reaching,
The sweet nectar that I desire.

Why, why, why?
What made you lie?
What made you think it was okay…
To hurt me?
To lie to me?
To betray me?
When all I wanted was someone who loves me.
What did you gain,
From all my tears and pain?
From all my grief and sorrow?
If only things were different tomorrow.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


(Dedicated to Penny Wilcox)

Nice people, rear to come by without ulterior motive
 Good fellows tend to strain from doing what they do
Because of unpleasant surprises they sometimes get
Bad girls are everywhere pretending to be angels
Animals in human physique living “animalistic”
But you are different, of exceptional attitude
I believe that your virtues are divine
You are a fabulous creature that really exist
Radiant, full of happiness and love
You are sweeter than honey pie
Eagle –eyed with supersonic focus
My first love that saw the need to smile in me
And always encourage me to do smile
You are not too old to be my sister
Neither are you too young to be my mother
I am whatever you want in me
Very perfect to be my friend
The first to know by revelation that I’m blessed
I know I am a blessed man because I have you as my friend

© 2010 

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The Lost One

Shivers my heart, by the sound of thunder,
In the world of darkness, alone the soul wander,
The twilight that has no string of light,
Seems its brightness is eaten by night,
Frightened, every particle, every life and the nature,
I find the world no longer has a  nomenclature,
All my directions lost, ways surrounded only by monsters and ghost,
Sails my ship in the deepest sea, with no sign of the coast,
The storm of life which is obstructing my route,
Rain! my only partner which makes me sooth,
When no one recognized drops of water from my eyes, 
You were the one who showed me where another world lies,
You changed my route, my life and brought back the hope of light,
Without you i would have never seen the sun so bright.                              
Waiting for my wrecked, sunk voyage to come ashore in the sun,
Sweet heart! move on, because I am now forever the lost one....

                                                                        -'Panchi' Panchal Hitesh D.

(for more please visit:

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sentiment of a rose

speaks in silence
volumes of the heart
for the giver
the warmth and eternal love 
fresh in the morning dew
 a rose  presents
a blooming bud
of a glowing true love

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Holiday Season is almost near
Christmas rush which you can hear
Beautiful lights seen everywhere
It can be felt in the air anywhere..

But still I don't have a Xmas gift for you
I'm not sure if you wanted it too
How I wish I know what to give
Something that you will be appreciative.

I wish I have the magic powers
To make the reindeers run thereafter
As the elves too busy packing
What Santa may carry for you and bring.

I wish I can put Lapland in a box
A place where the Snow Queen rocks
And where Santa and the elves live
Even those reindeers, I wish I can give.

But they're an impossible wish
A wish I hope I can accomplish
A gift I want to give to make you smile
Even just a little and only for a while.

Merry Christmas to you my dear
And A Happy New Year too.. Cheers!

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Lost in Your Eyes

I feel myself being pulled out of my body 
into wondrously beautiful orbs, 
so deep and mysterious but yet so full of emotion and life. 

As I enter I am immediately infused 
with the most profound feeling of love and kindness 
that my only thought is that 
I have passed into the very place imagined by many to be heaven. 

An immeasurable power of comfort and compassion swirls around me 
as if it were a mist made up of tiny soft flowers, 
beautiful and vibrant, smelling like a meadow in the springtime 
when everything that is new begins to bloom. 

The sky is colored a soft and calming blue 
that gives a promise of a lifetime of warm summer days. 
I wander through this place aimlessly but unafraid that I am lost, 
and then I see a form in the distance, 
a vision so beautiful that my eyes struggle to focus 
and my mind is barely able to comprehend. 

As I look upon this angelic presence I am suddenly aware it is you, 
your face softly gleaming with the radiance of life and love itself, 
sending it throughout this place like the sun lights the earth. 

Your hair, streaming upward 
and giving the very sky its color and promise of everlasting summer days, 
your arms feeding the mists of comfort and compassion 
that swirls and drifts through every part of this wondrous place 
and blankets it with your tenderness. 

At this moment I realize where I am, 
I am in a place I never want to return from, 
I am lost in your eyes......

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Wore That Yesterday

The same frown...
The same sad face...
The same dismay
over and over ..

You said the same
mean words to hurt me. 
Today I choose
to wear smiles.

I have come miles 
since yesterday!  
The happiness I felt...
The freedom I have now...
Since you left 
and went away; 
Please in fact, 
don't come back! 

Putting me down-
Wanting to see me
with that same
sad face,with
that same 'ole frown. 
The same dismay.  
I can't wear 
those feelings 
anymore no way.

For I wore 
that yesterday.  
No complaints,
self esteem  
has risen.  
It feels good to be free
from your 
verbal prison. 

Nope, I am wearing a smile,
enjoying my new freedom.
No frown-no
feeling down-no dismay.  

Can't wear that outfit,
feeling like a misfit, 
see I wore that
yesterday! ....
No way can you 
taunt or daunt 
my spirit or depress 
my spiritual side.
No more can you 
appall or terrify 
or fill me up with 
I am free! 
No longer disabled;
So ring the alarm-
I won't respond,
I have the courage,
The courage to say.
I am not wearing 
those feelings of dismay,
I wore them yesterday.
So say what you must 
and do what you will.

My spirit has 
traveled far from you.     
Today is my day.
So don't come back
to try and dress me in
that old tired suite,
made by Mr. Dis-May 
I don't wear that
label anymore ...  
I wore that yesterday.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

TONIGHT by Anna Lo P

..The clock ticks, the Time pass
  Coffee I sip, as I taste, Alas!
  One more cigarette, almost up,
  What else is with me, me, still up!

  Waiting for the green light
  Beside your name in chat
  This computer, is already hot
  It's been on, since I last woke up!

  I don't know, I don't care,
  If they say, I look like a scare
  Eyes that look like of an owl
  Since I've been up like a fowl!

  To write another piece
  Of my sadness, of my tears
  The songs I always play
  Make my heart feel in dismay!

  Up all day till night
  Because my heart is in fright
  Will he then tell me"it's not alright"
  That is something I need to fight!

  Oh my! please give me a sign
  To be in sorrow, or should I be fine?
  It feels I'm running out of time
  That's how I feel, for all this time!

  The clock ticks, the Time pass
   Another coffee sips, I say Alas!
   Another cigarette I lit, just to be up
   What else is with me? just a memory on recap!..

Details | Prose Poetry | |

An End to Aloneness

In my life I often feel I am alone; alone in my thoughts, alone in my musings, alone in my day-to-day movements and unsatisfying activities. I move like a ghost through hallways and down sidewalks, unnoticed and, at times, gratefully so. 
I do not wish to be eternally alone. I long for togetherness. But despite this desire for a real connection, I find myself regularly retreating from that temperamental beast that is human interaction. 

“Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t lower your head. Don’t look away. Look up! Smile at someone! No! Don’t go back into your bedroom. Don’t lock the door! Why are you doing this?” my brain will plea. 

I can’t help myself. Aloneness is comfortable. In being alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself. I don’t have to please anyone else. I can think anything I want, wear anything I want, listen to anything I want, and laugh at anything I want. 

And still there remains that nagging desire to be loved and wanted and needed by somebody. I do not know the feeling of being truly desired. I do not know what it is like for someone to crave my company, my smile, my kiss, or my touch. 

                                                                              But I would like to…

I cannot make someone love me or like me or want me in some primal way. It may hurt, but I cannot make that handsome boy want to hold my hand or brush my hair back behind my ear. I can only struggle on. I can only work within myself. I can only try every God damn day to hold my head up, keep my eyes fixed ahead, a give the world the best smile I have. I and I alone can bring myself out of the safety of my bedroom and into the bright world that lies beyond that locked door. 
I often find myself alone with nothing more than my thoughts and the ever-strong glow of a computer screen. But no longer will aloneness be the constant in my life. It is true that never having known the caress of a man’s hand on my thigh doesn't make me any less of a woman, but I fear that if I stay confined within myself much longer I will begin to become less of a human. A flower cannot grow if it retracts its leaves and petals every time it feels the warmth of the sun or the kiss of a gentle spring rain.  
And I want to grow. I want to grow so tall and blossom so big and beautifully that every place on earth is touched by my shadow at some point in the day. And I will grow. I will push myself and share myself with the world, and finally
know the closeness and comfort of love and honest, unabashed companionship.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota Intro

	In 1957 I took my teaching certificate back to the land of my mother.  
She was raised on a cattle ranch in the north central area of Nebraska.  The 
famous Sand Hills.  It was there I found my cowboy and we ranched for fourteen 
years on the eastern edge of the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota.  The 
teacher in this story is my mother's sister and our experiences at the Indian 
Government School of Spring Creek during my early years.
	In the year 2002 Cowboy and I moved to a very special town, Harper, 
Kansas.  This town is just a few miles down the road from the memories of my 
Kansas childhood. How lucky to be able to have all of these memories and with 
the help of God maybe another dozen or so years down the road I'll have another 
set of memories to pass on to another generation.   


	Yesterday I was sitting at my computer working  when I looked out of 
my magic window 
and noticed the swing set.  The wind was fiercely blowing up a gale and the 
swings were rocking to and fro.  That didn't bother me, but when I saw the glider 
was in motion, I didn't even have to close my eyes to picture the children playing 
on it.  They weren't my grandchildren.  They weren't my children.  They weren't any 
children I could recognize, but I felt blessed.  I didn't care who they were, they 
were happy.
	And then I thought back.  Back to the reservation.  I could hear the 
laughter of the Indian children, but whenever we came into view they would run to 
hide behind their mothers or grandmothers and peek around at us.  Some of the 
older ones, seven, eight, nine or ten year olds would line up in front of the shack 
or tent to stare at us.
	I can still see them dressed in faded, wrinkled, soiled clothing.  
Disgards from who knows where that ended up at the mission.  Their large 
round brown eyes staring from behind the greasy scraggly black hair. Some with 
their dirty fingers stuffed in their mouths. The little ones clinging desperately to 
the skirt as they peered around at us,  always had snout trailing from their nose, 
and their feet were either bare or encased in shoes three sizes to large for them.
	I don't know if it was a tradition of some kind but it seems, in my 
memory, there were never any men.  Only women and children came forth.  I 
have my ideas where the men were but I shall not go into that here.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Your crazy passion

you inhale me
saturate me
with your crazy passion
as you exhale me
I shoot out like a flaming comet
from the constellations
swirling in your eyes
exploding like a meteor shower
high into the sky
and then 
you drink me in
and cast me deep 
into your torrid rapids
my glistening wings
slowly melting
shimmering silver rivulets
liquid feathers 
into the glorious ocean
of holy splendour 
forever free
lost inside your ecstasy
in the center 
of effervescent love
your precious golden heart

Details | Prose Poetry | |

i wish i was his

What is this that makes me blossom with bliss                                 
making every part of my body freeze
and the whole world and its occupants seize
when i glance at him i wish
that i was the only one  he feels
but am wrong,oh!how i realy wish i was his!

I see him everyday,in my heart i pray
that one very day,he will have something to say,
that will make me stay ,
and hear me say,"i have waited for this day"
oh!how i wish i was his!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 3

                     There were seven Indian Government schools.  All built alike.  The 
one I'm writing about is Spring Creek.  He Dog, Soldier Creek and White River, 
Grass Mountain, Two Kettle, and Black Pipe were the other schools.  The 
Headquarters for these schools was at Rosebud, South Dakota. 
	On some summer evenings we were able to talk our mothers into 
hiking to the lookout tower.  We followed the ankle deep sandy trail road to the 
cliff north of the school.,  A canyon lay at the foot of the tower but we climbed the 
bluff.  I don't know why we didn't explore the canyon unless it seemed dark and 
sinister.  The footing was better once we reached the summit.  The closer we got 
to the tower the taller it grew and standing at the foot of the steps looking up was 
easier than getting to the top and looking down.  My mother didn't usually make it 
to the top because she didn't like heights.  But she didn't mind being left behind 
this time.  We never could get into the building at the top because it was locked, 
but we could climb the steps to the very last one.  Even my little sister managed 
to elude mom and followed us to the top. 
	From the bluff we could look down on the garden.  My aunt grew a 
huge garden and canned the produce for the hot meals served the school 
children.  We kids didn't work in the garden very often, but we looked for the arrow 
heads and fossils.  Which, I suspect the adults probably considered the best 
place for us.
	At the end of the road, living in shack, was Old Lady Grease.  I have a 
vague recollection of seeing her.  Tiny, frail, wrinkled and gray headed is all I can 
	In spring and fall we were in school in Kansas.
	It's Christmas now.  Cold and usually snowy.  We were in a winter 
wonder land.
	I'm standing at the fire escape window.  The ghostly pale full moon is 
illuminating the naked arms of the trees as they shiver in the wind, swaying to 
and fro as if dancers in a ballet.  I listen to the winter sounds. The frigid air 
enhances their sharpness.  The ax's thud echoes up the canyon as one of the 
Indians across the river chops another supply of wood.  One of his peers beats 
on the drum.  It is one-thirty a. m.  but the thin walls of the tents do not keep the 
cold out.  Day or night this chore must be attended to for survival.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Emerging life

Your touch peels away the layers of fear and gently reveals a love
Like spring emerging in spontaneous color and wonder

I had mused - all was lost -that I would never to see the sun and blue skies again 
I was lost in winters grey, bleak bare arms- alone in my cocoon not believing I could ever evolve into a radiant flower again

But now as my growth peeks through the melted ice - I joyously unfold, unraveling 
Velvet petals-layers of trust radiate a passionate bouquet of loves ardent harvest

I believe I can produce a harvest of good fruit from my union with the pro-creator of life - He shall abundantly fulfill His goodness in my life- as sure as the sun rises in newness each day - I shall shine forth His glory in me - for I cannot hide His love - it encompasses all I am fulfilling His purpose - honey flows from the rock that is steadfast and sure I am His forever.  

© Brenda V Northeast 3 March 2012

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The Reflection on Seasons in the Supposition of Snow.

I stared at walls and contemplated colors~

I believe it was after midnight~

he spoke of nothing as I imagined the importance behind us, as I imagined the breeze that
was affected by his voice, as I realized nothing intrigued me...

and here we were.

His arms spoke of goosebumps, little shivers up my spine, and September had this way about
her that I wished to somehow capture in mason jars that would decorate the rooms we may
sit in come snow, I knew the reflection of fire across skin and I kissed possibilities as
I watched our seasons...


There's no stopping distance despite the desire to break clocks, minutes and miles are
irreversible, I've found, so I counted them, the hours, and made sure he was touchable and
only an arms length away...

My August arms brushed across his chest, he had the ability to calm though summer still
danced through his heart, my fingertips traced over the forgotten eyelashes that
desperately tried to escape sight and I breathed, sending wishes to the walls that
surrounded us, to the edges that had yet to decide their color, that touched nothing...

yet captivated my attention.

There were shadows that covered us~

I think they appeared right beyond midnight~

but I knew we were swallowing September,  I supposed we'd create minutes that would make
us smile come snow and we'd kiss in the reflection of fire...

escaping distance

with the whispers that affected skin.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

True Love

When you put your hand in mine

It feels as through we stopped time

When I look into your eyes

I know where your heart lies

Even when you say my name

That alone means everything

The gentle touch of your lips

Takes my breath away as through it was our first kiss

When you got down on your knee

I thought my heart might flee

As you said those words to me

My heart felt as if it was meant to be.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Beautiful Apparition

It is not hard to fall in love with a beautiful apparition. You don’t know them, but are easily 
entranced by their chemistry. Your brain ignites a myriad of sensual wishes. Carnal exploration 
and fantasies played out in seconds, heating your heart like an oven. They disappear as quickly, 
a wisp of smoke, but you miss them immensely. A hallow feeling leaves you weak, sad, and 
alone stretching for minutes, days, or years till the next one steals your heart. Man or woman, 
boy or girl can manifest and escape around corners and be gone, but in the moment you had 
them for eternity. The Petrarchan romance you read lives in their dance and laughter. No one 
goes without this fictitious ache; it follows you as your shadow does, comes to life as often.

Looking serene a placid lake reveals a reverse world where everything is as real as the earth 
you tread, as vivid as those memories you hang on walls. Veiled in disbelief as a mere image 
those waters taunt you with their likeness. The ghosts you long for are down there, but there 
they know you as the beautiful apparition

Details | Prose Poetry | |

First Kiss

The instant our eyes met we knew the kiss was imminent. We smile playfully all the 
while in pursuit of this aforementioned kiss. Each time we part ways we audition 
attempts at the kiss in know of its accelerated position. The instance was right, I 
knew it would be this night that I without trepidation, boundary or fear. Free from 
hesitation and wonder of return, tonight will be the night of concern. At suns set I 
stretch forward my arm, a coward no more. We adore the charm of each other and 
are ready to explore, risking harm without worry all kiss" long and longed have I for 
the moment on approach. I chose you as my love to share after approving smile this 
incredible moment of kiss. This here is the moment of truth, I can hear your heart 
beat in your ear, the same ear I now peer through into your mind and find it's true 
that all fear has disappeared. My fingers brush through a handful of your fair hair, 
together we share one final breath of single air. Our lips are now erect and on direct 
intent of meeting, millimetres remain. The time for our minds to change has past, at 
last the moment is here. Your eye sheds the tear of fears farewell, I taste the swell 
flavour of "please kiss me" and I do because I have wanted to kiss you so badly too.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

True Love

I loved my grand parents 
They passed away without my knowledge... 

I loved my parents
They left me without my opinion... 

I loved my life-partner
Life-partner intended to injure my life without any hesitation... 

I loved my friends
They wanted everything in my life
Except my pains
I left them...

Then I love my poem 
Who is an image of divine love !

Still she loves me without any demand

And her divine love will be continued more after my death
She promised me ! 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I pretend to know of love

I pretend to know of love
when in truth I do not know,
however many times I've
neared the touch of love
so many times one sided
either from me or from her.
And so with these debacles faced
I have begun to stop believing in..
no, I cannot dare say that.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

SOMEDAY by Anna Lo P

 "Someday.. When I imagine the future
 is it only a thought that I will see you someday
 or is it just madness , the sadness it will bring
 for it could never happen all along.

 Someday, maybe I will find my way to you
 or is it a fact that if I see you someday
 I might be only dreaming, hurt and I'm left all alone.

 Someday, when time comes and if it's real
 then all of my doubts will go away somehow
 and you standing in front of me, one step closer
 someday, somehow, somewhere,
 we will be together, forever" ... xoxo

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Reflection of Sunsets that Ignored the Destination of Us

It seemed to me, when the sun set and his eyes mirrored clouds with raindrops that had yet
to fall, it seemed to me...

we'd been ignoring the weeks it took to get this far.

I'd spoken often, on Wednesdays, when I sat alone and conversation happened to be the only
thing that kept my hair from tearing herself out, of ice cream Sundays and possibilities
of his hand touching the little milky white part of my right thigh in a brushing that made
me shudder....

made me realize...

how much I needed him.

It was the tiny moments I sketched and photographed that held me, his eyes when he loved
me, and the sweat that settled herself on the nape of my neck when he kissed me,
tightening curls and muscles that hid themselves from the hours I'd pretended to be

but a woman.

I glanced to my left as I awaited his voice, as I searched somewhere for the echo of
nights past and the graze of sleeping when his legs brushed up against the outside of my
ankles, I waited as I stared at the walls that appeared behind me when he found nothing
else to do but smile, and I had blushed, schoolgirl red with the imagination that I was
still there for hearts beat faster in those days...

in the days that lived inside the weeks...

we may have ignored...

as we walked farther, he and I, towards places I couldn't see and destinations I had never
heard of, but...

you see...

his fingers, his hand...

brushed up against my thigh, as I shuddered and needed him...

as he kissed me

and my eyes mirrored sunsets and storm clouds that held raindrops that had yet



Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Sunset

Between these cotton sheets we lay 
The smell of washing powder lingers 
The sun is setting across the woods 
Dimmed rays glowing in from the windows, 
Make your eyes sparkle like turquoise 
Nonetheless, yours are priceless
Having witnessed you to all times of the day
This is when you’re at your best  
The fraction between night and day 
Where mere shadows
Become looming darkness
Blue skies become a blanket of stars
Where your kisses seem longer
On me, you feel heavier
And your touch seems softer 
When the sun is setting 
My daydream of you ends 
And the reality begins 
The night time cravings start 
Of your lips on mine and
Your fingertips begin tantalising
Before sunrise, I’m already fantasising 
Of the Sunset 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Secrets of Love

Once upon a day, two pretty women strolled down a pastoral park that offered their cheeks the most countrified caress and their eyes an orchard of assorted pomegranates. 
After succumbing to weariness, the two courtly women perched themselves on a bench and mused about the simple complexities of men. In their musing, one said unto the other:"men are blinded by attractiveness and through our beauty we can lead any man astray". The other, scintillating in the sun's gleam said brazenly:"Those who believe that really do lack artistic taste!". 
The other lady percolated in thought in the most captivating and graceful of manners and en masse an old couple approached afoot, smiling hand-in-hand. The old man asked his elegant, elderly cohort to stop in their wandering and he turned his body to the sitters and approached the fair women whose aglow gleamed."I could not but help overhear your deliberation and I want to reveal the secrets of the universe unto you" he continued as he bespoke:"and what is more,I know the secrets of love"Seemingly beguiled by the older gentlemen and his unalluring,aged appearance and resoluteness,they asked him to move out of the sun for his frame blocked the sun's lustre.From therein they continued to ignore him,believing him to be crazy and most certainly bold.As he continued reciting his secrets whilst being consecutively and ignobly ignored,his wife smiled from astern as he felt her love for him scintillate in the most divine of flowered forms.He continued to implore unto them that he knew the secrets of beauty and thereof offered his wrinkled palm for them to hold.In disgust at his apparent lack of decorum and common decency, the two women swiftly relinquished the bench and continued their path with their elegant walks and in doing so braggartly disparaged the man for his many fouls and for being"too old to know everything", something they knew could only be a quality of youth. As he turned around within what he felt to be his bellowing disappointment, he caught the countenance of his wondrous wife whose sultry smile danced in a curvature that shone straight everything that was crooked. He knew at that moment he indeed knew the secrets of the universe. 

The women continued their pattered walk with their grace and bespoke evermore qualms about how artistically unattractive old men are. The old couple graced the rainbow with their secrets and they knew that beauty is painting one's life in one's art and living as an art in one's life

Details | Prose Poetry | |

When Your Heart Was Mine

I wish I could go back in time to when your heart was once mine

My dreams are shattered and my hope is gone

I'm wishing you would come back home

My happiness is laid to rest and I'm wishing you all the best

The time we shared was once there but now it's gone I shall move on

I look back at the past wishing it would of last

The love we shared was once so rare has got me thinking life is unfair

If I could I would turn back the hands of time when your heart was once mine.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

What Does It Really Mean

What Does It Really Mean?

Surrounded by these things the world says complete me,
Circumstances and situations trying to defeat me
Promises and dreams knocked on my door to meet me
Heartache and pain tried to cheat me
But, I looked into your eyes and all that changed
What you saw in me I saw in you
We thought it couldn’t be but we found that it was true
You open up my heart to things I never knew
I invaded your space you’ve only allowed to few
But, you looked into my heart now nothing is the same
We thought it would be fun but love changed the game
Circumstances, situations, promises and dreams
Heartaches and pains what does it really mean?
Look at me and tell me how you fell
What’s in my heart, because it wasn’t for the thrill?
Tell me what you see, tell me if it’s real
Circumstances, situations, promises and dreams
Heartaches and pains what does it really mean?	
Caught in the middle, there’s nowhere to run
Tried to walk away and say that we were done
But if the shoe fits, I’m wearing it
If its nine months, I’m carrying it
When it comes to love , I’m sharing it
Circumstances, situations, promises and dreams
Heartaches and pains what does it really mean?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Shall Wait For You My Beloved

I shall wait for you to come my beloved
For you are my white star of twilight
The moon in the sky’s far end

I shall rise up with thee
Lie down with thee
For in my dreams thou art always with me

Oh Great Spirit
When our time has come
Join us together as one in the wilderness of your sacred home
When you look upon us give us your peace and refreshing sleep

For you and I my beloved, are two halves joined together
Each others distant shore
The left and right wings of the bird
Two halves of a seashell

We are apart, yet connected by a greater love
I shall wait for you my love 

The sun and moon bless the union of our spirits
Designed by our Creator for life’s endless journey
Joined like a tree to earth, a cloud in the sky
You are a part of me, as I am of you
Bonded by the Great White Spirit

You are my love, my heart’s best  friend
Our love will never cease, never end
I know it is thou who moves within my heart
Now and forever my beloved - I shall wait for you to come
Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ my love

"Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ means I love you in Navajo"

Details | Prose Poetry | |






BY FIRE???????????



Details | Prose Poetry | |

There Ain't Nothin' Better Then A Cowboy Lover

He was her part time lover
even though he was her only one
A man you could love
But she’d never let him know…
she had a full time heart            
Although her strings
had some wear and tear
throughout her years.

She wasn’t going to let him put her heart in his pocket.

No, she wasn’t about
to give her heart away
She’d play it cool.
Never let him see her fears
Pretend she was tough
Never cry or show any tears

He was a man,
raised right by his mother
He’d lay a rose upon her pillow
He was a man like no other
There ain’t nothin’ better
then a cowboy lover

His name was Jesse from Montana
He had skin the color of lightly roasted coffee 
from being out in the sun so much
His smile, a bit crooked
made him look a bit mischievous,
in a teasing sort of manner
It could knock your socks off 
if you gazed too long

She met him at a little café’ in Big Sky
leaning against the counter
like a long, tall drink of cool water
Boots, hat and all the makins'
of a real cowboy   

She had slayed the paper dragons of her past
Put them all behind her
She was bold and brave; 
asked for his number
which he willingly gave
with a smile, a little bit crooked,
a bit mischievous
in a teasing sort of manner

They’d cuddle in their blanket
under the stars and the moonlite
listening to Hank Williams songs
drinking coffee around their campfire
telling stories from their pasts;
laughing, snuggling
Before she’d go to sleep at night, 
he’d kiss her cheek 
and hold her close in his arms 
One night as she lay in his arms,
he stroked her cheek 
with his tender touch, 
kissed her lips and held her tight

He said, “What would you do if I asked
"Ask what”, she said?
"Little lady, do you know I love you,
would you kindly be my wife”? 

When he said that to her that 
wonderful nite under the stars
she realized...

She wanted him, to put her heart in his pocket

That was the night 
she gave her heart away

  She wasn’t playin’ it cool
  She let him see her fears
  She wasn’t really all that tough
  Then, she cried and showed him her tears

He was a real man,
raised right by his mother
He laid a rose upon her pillow
He really was a man like no other
Nope, there sure ain’t nothin’ better
then a cowboy lover
                                                    *~The Sweet End~* 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

About Love

The mind is not subjected to circumstances
 nor geographical location as the body is subjected
 to the law of gravity. 
It perceives that its domain is out of time, 
out of space and consequently transcends natural laws. 
The perception of this law of laws awakens in the mind 
a sentiment which we call love, which make our highest happiness. 
Wonderful is its power to heal, restore, and to command obedience.
 It is a medium; it is an embalmer of the world. 
By its power the universe made safe, and habitable. 
For all things proceeds from love
 “For God so love the world that he gave ..." 
Through love men have conquered their own fears that seemed insurmountable.
 “Perfect love cast out all fears.” 
Thus, this same love has challenged the mind to commend the creature like-
Therefore, I am bold with hands, and heart, and soul to declare: 
I have chosen, pursued, and conquered a soul that has wrought its worth in gold. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I met you in my journey

I met you in my journey.
Over cups of coffee. Over conversations.
Over laughter. Pure nuisance.
Over smiles. And feeling of freedom.
Pure happiness. And amusement.
Over sadness. And pain.
That you stuck through.
I met you in my journey.
Unexpected. And I loved you.
Over the hours. The minutes.
And the days. Through lonliness.
Through the emptiness. Through the confusion
In your head. Through the feelings
That no one else understood.
I met you in my journey.
Lonely soul I was. Just like you.
Fighting through emotions. A rebel.
Transient like rainbow. Forever, I knew not.
My other self. I found in you.
Through the fleeting nights and days.
That made the best of my life.
I met you in a  journey.
Which ended. Long ago
And I look back. And wonder.
If I ever cross your mind. Like you do.
I do not know where you are now. Or how.
If you are happy, loved. But I know
In my memories, we will meet again.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


 I came to you because I loved you
I stretched my arm of friendship and you warmly welcomed me
And since that day, my life had undergone a metamorphic change
Renewed for the future with a focus of unwavering concentration
I gave you all I had for that moment
I told you all I ever knew and been through
I was committed to the friendship because I believed in you
Always saw you as some kind of heavenly angel on earthly assignment
But along the way I found out I was alone
Though I could find your body around
But your spirit and soul were far gone away
I knew I was caged because I had given my all
I needed someone to set me free
Who would set me free? For I was drawn in the ocean of love
 I had withdrawn every other thing except my heart of love
It kept longing for you, more, more and more
Who would set me free? Set me free.

(c) 2009

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A silent song

I waved a silent song
past its strongest heights
For a sating revision
of a shy sound to ignite
Asks for melodic tense,
for its sequence of time 
heaves a better song
and lights up a star-deprived 
regardless of time,
to sign a sympathetic course 
for us in bloodless keys… 
and for the lost keys 
to toe
the empty line
and reside 
in our unkempt places 

Yet reluctantly,
in defeat,
invokes a right
to fill its 
self-declared silence 
with lasting doubt
And braises a cold heartfelt petal
of pain 
To open and fit
a rising reduction of triumph
in different keys

But till then
My best bequeaths to each
of us a silent song
Our second tries aim
a daunting recourse to pasts below
We signed off
in single file
In endless cells, 
walled in our own unforgiving pasts
As they
echo beneath
a soldered 
and silent core of song
While we wait
for the sympathy of 
a melodic distance..
that heaves 
and leaves 
a silent song to die
a second time

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Kiss

Is what I do best.....
Well...not the only....
But something...
I do love to do....
There's the morning...
I love you kiss...
And the good bye kiss...
And the just for kicks kiss....
But when it really counts...
There's the soul searching...
Toe curling....
Panty wetting....
Come on I want to lay ya kiss.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

White Bunny

My 29th birthday 
it was set up to be a miserable experience
without many friends or family
I was left to smile through the half-created festivities
my best friend showed up with a box
and sat it on my lap
and a bunny appeared.
A real life bunny rabbit
She was tiny and white and scared
and I picked her up gently
and whispered, "youre home".
Albino, my friend found her on a country road
2 months old, with no camoflague
And of course she thought of her best friend who cant deny an animal
and whose birthday just happened to be hours away.
That first day, my birthday, I held that bunny close.
She didnt fight, but now I know how much of a shocked baby she was.
I researched and read, watched countless videos.
I bought her a huge cage and started litter training her right away.
Its now 6 months later...
Ive worried over her more than any animal Ive ever loved
I took her to get her fixed and got really scared when I realized the vet knew less than I did.
She lived, and healed, and then she ate 6 buttons off the remote, 2 pieces of saltwater taffy, and 4 inches of hard plastic.
But she comes running for her treats and hops into my bed like a super-bunny
She kisses my hands and arms and knees and I know she loves me back.
The way she drinks up a bunch of water, then licks her lips for minutes and still drips water everywhere
The way when I call for her she looks so suspicious, wondering if its time for medicine or bathing or nail trimming.
Thats my bunny.
She makes giant messes, she eats like a horse, shes always looking nervous, shes always doing binkies or flopping her heavy body down
My pretty pure white bunny was 2 small pounds when I got her, and now she weighs 12, more than all my cats
And all of my cats are afraid of her, she tramples them when they are sleeping. She amuses me.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Firefly Dream

Fireflies buzzing every which way---
But they never stop long enough for one
to catch them or enjoy their glimmer---
No, not today!

They know we appreciate their remarkable
beauty and the glistening light they share---
Yet they NEVER stop for more than
a brief moment since they are only
lightening bugs, lacking any natural
sense of care or affection.

Oh, how I wish that I could soar with the
fireflies for a short time, being an
illuminating and traveling ball of 
brilliant light---Helping lost,
disheartened souls achieve a greater
sense of well-being and self-contentment!

Yet, that is a dream that will NEVER be
so I suppose I'll have to stay on this
uneven, unchartered path in which I choose
to roam every lonely day of my existence.

Unhappy and insecure, questioning what to do
and who to be loved by, myself or the 
pain of continual let-down and unworthiness.

Above all, I've realized that I could
never dream of being a firefly that has
no cares, concerns, commitments, and
most of all, no heart and soul to
take the chance for the happiness that
comes with human nature's unending,
unconditional love.

Consider this....Instead, would the
fragile innocence of a delicately-
painted butterfly take me far away 
into the turquoise-infused skies
of peace, serenity, and clarity
between the mind and soul?

c2013 Julie Rasley

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Gator Bait Series 2nd Crossing the Line

It’s that time of year when I think of you....
And all the strange things we used to do...
We were young and cast our fate to the wind...                                                  
Regardless of the message that we might send..
Out to the world , cause we didn’t care...                                                                       
And that’s what brings me here to share....
You treated me just like a queen honey bee..                                                                
And I believed and worshiped thee...
We shared our ups and downs together...                                                                        
In thick and thin and stormy weather...
What was mine was mine and yours was mine.....                                                         
And we never ever crossed that line !
I assumed it would always be just you and me...                                                            
As no one else appealed you see....
My friends said you will break my heart...                                                                       
But I told them that, I was just too smart....
As I remembered , what I was taught....                                                                         
That no one could control my thought...
And then it happened I lost my heart....                                                                          
My bracelet, my watch and my college  ring...
And then you did that awful thing...                                                                               
You lied , you cheated , you  had stolen my bling...
And that’s why now you aren’t around....                                                                       
Plus no way... will you EVER.... be found....
Cause I live where the GATOR is king......                                                                no one steals my BLING !

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Speeding Ticket

There… he… goes…
speeding down the mountain, 
he’s just enjoying life. 

He just wants to share 
with his friend.

To his provider’s misfortune,
varies her lipstic – I mean definition.

His description:
“I was just enjoying MYself,
it wasn’t MY fault.”

Her description:
“But you hurt ME.
What about ME?”

She was furious.
Her insurance rates became destined to go

It’s so unfair for her,
she was just trying to provide for her man:
gave him a car and some freedom.

The interest her man once gave her, though, 
sped off so quickly that it
deserved plenty more speeding tickets.

That interest
Deserved stars, road blocks, and helicopters;
and a much more somber ending than that of a life in Grand Theft Auto.

Once you’re caught,
you’re caught.
You can still go back,

though, once you leave, 
you’re gone indefinitely.
Everyone else must pay your debts now.

She became dull,
she got fat,
every Christmas present gets old by the time Santa comes around again.

Not that any of any of those
physical characteristics mattered,

It was true love,
so true that the betrayal was just as true.
But it was just a speeding ticket.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I believe that yesternight has gone by,
And this is another day, 
A brand new day,
A very beautiful one.

All I could see is the rising of the sun,
with its beauty and energy,
Ready to beautify, 
And illuminate this day. 

All I wish is to be like this sun unto you,
lighten up your angelic face to a lovely smile,
And a source of encouragement to launch you, 
Higher unto greater achievement.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

We Don't

We Don’t

We don’t belong to each other, and yet we do

We don’t share a house, a car or a bath

We do share a journey, a destiny, a laugh

We don’t see each other the way that we would

We see happiness, contentment and things that feel good

We don’t argue, fuss, we don’t disagree

We kiss we hug and we let things be

We don’t have what is common, accepted or right

We have what is real, unexpected our plight

We don’t understand, can’t explain, couldn’t predict 

We have what we have, each other and that’s it.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Concerto of the Enchanting Night

Concerto of the Enchanting Night
 Arabic Poem by: Fadhil Aziz Farman *
 Translated Into English by:
 Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)

You suggest the songs
And leave me deep
In the splendor of the rhythm and melody. 
Drag my day out of the dream to wakefulness 
I have not known 
But the philosophy of dreams 
In all my days.

You suggest the songs
And leave me floating in a wave of fragrance 
Showered down By Lynol Ritchie 
With his love songs 
Or by Yanni with his tunes.
And dance
Do the tango 
Do the waltz 
Do the ballet or the jerk dance
Dance as you please 
Or spin around the Earth-pole,
O symbol of amazing taste, 
Rouser of lightning in the sky,
And crown of all beauties.
Here I am intoxicated
By the melody pulsating in your figure 
And by the bashful roses 
On your cheeks,
O sweet wine in my chalice and my vats.
You suggest the songs
And at the end of the round
Put your head on my chest, 
O child of my poems, 
And listen to my heart singing them 
With the virgin tears of joy 
Flowing down the violin’s cheek.
You suggest the songs
You suggest the melody 
And hint the sweet words
They’ll come to you 
Then hold me to your chest like a child.
I will need your ear 
To whisper to you 
All that baffles my heart 
And my tongue 

You suggest the songs
And strew them
Such as roses 
On the desert of my life.
What remains for us 
Of all our years, 
But joy
Strewn like roses
And like dew
On the seconds? 
Translated by Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi
 * Fadhil Aziz Farman is a poet from Iraq
 The original poem in Arabic

Details | Prose Poetry | |


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,
Don’t think,

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.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

HIM of Praise

 HIM of Praise 
HIM of Praise 
 life; broken 
used unwashed homeless tired sad hurt questing for an answer, yes it is HIM 
who loves me JESUS. The answer to every question. ABOVE every other namme 
the HIM who seems so far away and yet eye find the love is still in evidence the 
richness in the finding.  Love is given never taken the takers and the shakers 
come to HIM and get dumbfounded, the poor questors will still receive 
communion.  Live is a mobius stripped not the start of the cradle to the grave 
sinfilled natural disaster somewhere in my timeline lies uninterrupted salvation. 
HIM who loved me also called me to tell his people of HIS namme. HIM who 
loves ewe also needs ewe to call on HIM in fear and trembling YES and then to 
drop the fear of days gone bye and love HIM for YES HE loves. HIM who writes the 
names in BOOK of LIFE loves all of us the namme of JESUS the namme the 
namme is JESUS. HE who brings us life also brings us days then HE adds them 
to our lives. JESUS. HIM of Praise. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

In my summer meadow

In my summer meadow

Lavender colored milkweeds, growing between dark  purple butterfly peas, are 
perfuming the warm air. 
The color combination is especially pleasing to me; I love purple.
Perfectly round globes of milkweed are a magnet for bees, butterflies and a variety 
of other insects. I see lightening bugs among them. 
The buzzing of bumblebees, wasps and honeybees is accompanied by the chirping 
of crickets and the happy twittering of the meadow birds. 
Yellow Sweet Clover lends it's perfume to the summer symphony of soothing scents.
Tall spikes of blooming Johnson grass sways dreamily in the bright sunlight.
Right in the middle of a soft pink wild rose bush, a bright red butterfly weed is the 
center of activity for many species of colorful butterflies. A brilliant blue"Two-barred 
Flasher”  flaps it's wings as fast as a hummingbird, while the orange-brown Buckeye 
rests peacefully.
Next to the roses, a blackberry bush is promising juicy, dark berries soon, while the 
Mulberry trees are already providing a welcome sweet snack for birds, deer and 
A patch of wide- open orange daylillies is a cheerful spot over at the edge of the 
trees and an emerald- green hummingbird enjoys their offerings.
There is so much life and beauty in a small patch of meadow! 
I love it!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Above the clouds

Above the clouds
lies the beauty of nature
breathing with sparkling colors
while angels spread their wings

Above the clouds
lies the root of love
viewing planet earth
while touching a dove

Above the clouds
lies the power of love
filling every vacuum in broken hearts
while drying all tears with true love

Details | Prose Poetry | |

my love

You used to say distant is Just a number of miles,
The figures in number couldn't separate us,
And you said that time was to pass like a rocket
And once again we could be together,
My love !my love! how is you?

It pain me so much,
The memories of our love are tormenting me,
The promises you made are dead now
Never to be fulfilled
And never to be altered again
My love! My love! how is you?

You said you could not wait anymore,
What was there to hold to?
I had no choice but to let it go,
My heart did sunk,with noone to lean on,
I only comforted myself with our memories
My love! my love!hoe is you?

Its long time ever since ,
But I want to know that am ok
Not that I care,but how have you been?
My love! My love!how is you?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

New Meaning of LOVE

You know the old meaning of Love

Lake of sorrow...

Ocean of tears...

Valley of death...

End of life....

It's negative meaning of Love !

Now you read the new meaning of Love


Truly LOVE is LIFE !


Details | Prose Poetry | |

''kissing sally in the smoking-room''

listen, the world has changed plenty since you’ve last shown your face around here. nowadays, a name is the last thing we learn, if we ever do learn it. flirting is boring, death is a dinner topic, happiness is strange. pain is good. things taste backwards — but oh, do they feel sweet. love and crime no longer compete for the gold: guess what sweetheart, they’ve got it, and they’re sleeping together.

oh come on, don’t look at me like that.

you’ve always underestimated your own heart, you know. and mine, for that matter. you can get away with a lot of things with a heart now — i suppose that’s another thing that’s changed. remember how we used to be under its mercy? remember how we couldn’t cope with the traffic of our bodies until it finally sighed some soft, silly sentence?

how long have you been gone, anyway?

no, no, that’s not how it works. it isn’t really a question of whether i missed you or not. that word doesn’t mean anything anymore. it’s become quite the popular prop. i don’t have a word for what it’s been like while you were—

what? what do you mean i’ve changed? if there’s anyone who’s changed it’s you! i haven’t changed for the sake of entering this world: look, darling, we’re all thieves of space and time, and i’m just one of many trying to survive.

but…yes, i do suppose those days were nice. in their own way. when we were buried treasure. when closeness was something you had to earn first.

hey, you’re smiling. 

i’m not kidding — you really are. should i stop?

well, i can’t say i imagined you’d be back here again.

you want to know something, though? alright, i’ll tell you.

if there’s one thing i’m glad hasn’t changed at all, it’s how we wake up. it doesn’t matter what happened hours ago. forget about what your skin remembers. can you believe it, we still manage to wake up! after all this!

i think a lot of it has to do with how competitive, how scared everyone feels. because after that, even after that, there’s still that pleasant feeling of shared space. and then the silent sunrise. and then the beautiful morning.

i know.

i know, i know.

and yeah, you’re still smiling.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Valentine's Paradox

To anyone who's been in love
Do find understandings for paradox of a valentine
What apparent contradictions are found to be true
A valentine's love is both red and blue
Love makes one blissful
yet oh so miserable too
It's frightening to one's brain cells 
Yet supports the healing of the mind
Love is physical to the touch
But spiritual to feelings
How incredibly fragile to be broken hundreds apart
Yet what can be stronger than a lover's love from the heart
Deathless it seems, one's Alpha Omega of entwinements
The potential puzzle of never solution
To express one's face of both the smiler and the cryer

Details | Prose Poetry | |

An early song-2

I once joined the procession of colors and lost my heart
Till a wave colors distilled through night knocked me down dead.
Besides the mountain,  the midnight festival of colors is on.
Lying in my arms you imagine your blood is burning in my veins
 I am only listening to the chariot of the queen joining the revelry.

I knew you were being vain when you came to see me
I did know when your heart missed a beat. For the air was my friend.
And the tiny bird building its nest in the rafters of my roof
Did  not bring a straw as long as you talked. 

You never said bye.  For you wanted me to do that. But I had no time 
And kept riding on the wave. The storm is not away. What if I fall.
 Tomorrow I will be lying in these shores caressed to sleep by a smiling sun.

 I don’t have the time to forget you in the endless expanse of this blank night. 
Last night’s sun was but a spot hewn out of the tragedy of the heavens.
A tragedy that  survived the ages to live in my heart in fire and smoke.

You keep away while I create my pieces in these desert sands. When I proceed
 To give them the finishing touches, you shriek in despair. For you think
 I am going to spoil the lovely piece of some great master with my clumsy hands.
Tomorrow is the illegal child of today abandoned in the dark.
I end up at night  and my child is born at night, having passed 
Through  the summer that seared my skin and heart.
The cup of sorrow is never full, so there is no overflowing.
Yesterday we witnessed the winter night breathing its last.
Winter was in lament for the little bird that went up but never returned.

I bear no gifts for you. I know not your names. I know not who you are
But I recognize you without mistake against this backdrop of misery.
I come here with my empty bag to gather the drops of your sobs
And consign them to the flame in my mind leaving your smiles behind.

For: Catie Lindsey's Free Verse contest

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Stellar Passion

My adorable princess in the night
 I searched the book of the cosmos for you
 And there you were, my brightest star
 A detailed flame of purest joy
 That coalesced the heavens in extreme awe
 The world, you have at your fingertips
 And all the worlds and stars beyond
 Tell me what you know of them
 Do they shine from your essence
 Or glow from the sight of your dramatic beauty
 Do they travel the universe to be in unity with you
 Do they wait for their cataclysmic, fateful end
 So that the shattering pieces that remain of them
 May somehow find their way to the cradle of you
 How I wonder what miraculous wonders you be store
 How you make me weak in the knees to gaze at you
 Hanging high up there in the blissful night sky
 How do you think the stars befell enviously
 They all want to radiate the systems of galaxies
 But you will be the one to teach them the way
 As they will follow in your lead to perfection
 It's when I come out late at night, and I feel all alone
 I know you are there, weightless over me
 I know because my shortness of breath tells me
 As my heart pounds rapid in my chest
 And once again, you seduce me into a supernova
 Stellar blaze of glory, astral, luminescent sphere of light
 From there to here is where you take me
 As you have brightened all my ways of life

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Thou hast had to play the role of crazy, obeying thee, displaying my faults and 
portraying the shame of me. Breathe, free, finally free. Fire! Adores you and 
welcomes you to an empire of the new. I tossed the idea of inviting a few, opting 
instead with pleasure for you and only you. Never will failure ever be considered, 
pending impact impedes speech and renders me down to bereave. Grand! I have 
been dying to see, love, yes love and its grandiose display, always will be my 
reasoning. It reels me in and cleanses with nature, pure as pure is in creature. Am 
I? yes I am, though not sinister. Unstoppable and driven by attraction to disaster 
and admiration of whisper, this hush is listless, wrestle it, don’t miss this. Satisfy 
desire lets make it glamorous in dedication. Fire! Re-lit! Savagely craving the 
moment that we meet again. Imagine the breath and the chests, tension and lust 
duelling with hatred and love. Trust is a laugh though laughter will bring it back, 
time will help. My muse, do you not understand? I need the right to exploit my light 
slight hand under right eye, you cannot subdivide the mind of a made up guy. Love 
be my minds light, love blind my minds fight, right the pain and create love new, so 
that tonight we may sing. Dying young is not a necessity of living forever but love 
certainly is. We are majesty and perfection in love, it was majestic and perfected in 
new. I do not want your hugs hello or your waves goodbye, rather please supply 
onto I the dreams that I dream and the wishes that I provide. Real life not fictitious 
false life liked delights. What will it be like when we meet again? Electric? 
Dangerous? Casual? Loaded with hatred? Will we feel obligated to hug or smile? 
Even if our stomachs and the others eyes tell us not to? Betrayal? Really? Dig! 
Deeper! Dig! Deeper still! Find it, learn it, believe in it, trust it, crave it, welcome it 
without denial.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Fear against Love

I go in search of your face every day
To peep at you and know that you are okay

I drown in the hot caress of your breath 
That I once knew warm, for it is my only comfort

I smooch my lips in the rhythm of a touch I once felt dear 
For it alone suits me in loneliness

How did I let this happen?
Why did I let you go?

Did I not know the touch of a sincere LOVE?
Was it fear that stopped two sincere hearts?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Two Hands

Two Hands
One is curve and strait
The other is straight,
Yet today both are flat neat.
Glad to shake the right one.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Slowly fear, and sweet

Dear God,

You've probably heard this prayer
a thousand times over, and yet
I feel like I need to say it everyday
even if it's just for me

each day I realize how scary 
this world really is
and even more how frightening 
it is inside myself 

if only it were so easy to let go
as if there is something 
I want to keep inside
like if I truly to let go
I'd lose something

even though my mind is a war zone
but there is just 
a little something that 
hangs onto the notion of You

help me to love people
outside of myself
please guide me to walk,
slowly fear, and sweet

Details | Prose Poetry | |

DOES HE by Anna Lo P

Does he remember me?
Does he remember even a thing he said to me?
Does he think of me too?
I think yes, I think I dont know.

Does he smile when feeling sad?
Does he laugh when about to cry?
Does he feel happiness when hurt?
I think yes, I think I don't know.

Does he feel empty?
Does he feel alone?
Does he yearn for my love,
I think yes, I think I don't know.

I don't want to think anymore
I'm tired of this, I can bear no more
Tired of being tired again
I say yes, that now I know..

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hear my cry

Try my hardest to not let them see the pain and weariness break me. Pray to God to get me out. Hear the screams of fear from all around. Quiet my thoughts of doubt and despair while the weights around my ankles feel like a hundred pounds. The chains around my wrist remind me where I am. The sun beats down upon my head blurring my perception of whats ahead. I look down and find one dead, turn my head and there I see all the bodies of the deceased, lying at my feet. I know my time is almost near, as I cry a few more tears. Marching into the sun I see my life is almost gone. The desert sands start to burn I pray to God to take me home. My mind is weak my soul is dead there is nothing left to give. I am, who I am Even if it means I had to die. I am perfect in God's eyes!
10-5-2014 Death March

Details | Prose Poetry | |

WHY DID I by Anna Lo P

Why did I fall in love with you?..
I was expecting love, unexpectedly not from you
I believe in fate, I believe in destiny
I believe that someone will come rescue me.

I want to find Love
I want to be loved
I want love to find me
I found love, but it's only Me.

I created Love in love
I created Hope in hope
I created Fate & Destiny
I created only but a Tragedy.
All of these, does it make sense now?
Or should I just forget it somehow,
Maybe I'll just ask myself, falsely or true
Baby, Why did I fall In love with you?....

..and the answer is simple.. it's just YOU!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Wedding Ring

Wedding Ring
Why did you take my wedding ring?  Did taking it give you a zing? Did hurting me give you a 
double ring in your b b thing? Did the carats make your heart sing? 

Did you think your new lady would like my ring?  Wouldn’t it sting her to know whose thing 
that was first darling?  

That hurt more than anything.  Why did you take my ring?

Details | Prose Poetry | |



"Lost in my solitary confinement
of being alone in this battle
waiting and hoping that someone will come and rescue me
and this loneliness will never drift me back to the deep sea.

True love I have been waiting for in a lifetime
has come right before me unexpectedly
but my fears and doubts of your coming
had led me to reach out to you still with uncertainties.

Now that you are in my reach
My life has never been so complete
Just you and me are all there is
Nothing else, just you and me.

Feeling uncertain of your love for me
sometimes makes me wonder of what you truly feel
maybe it was just me who wanted this coming
because you never said what you really seek.

And the moment I fear has finally come
To be alone again, back to where I've been gone
You are there and here I am
still wondering if we could ever be the same again.

Someday, I know that our paths will cross again
the connections we had can be restored and mended
Fate and destiny will bring us back closer
You and me together until forever.." 

...Eger seni ne kadar çok sevdigimi bir bilsen...
Seni cok ama seni Seviyorum.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

His eyes are clear as water

his eyes are clear as water
they would seem to me like shallow pools
but I have glimpsed their depths
I have traveled on their currents
and I am as one lost at sea
in his cold, clear eyes

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Poem For You

Everytime I bring forth your image
From deep within the well of my mind
My heart begins shedding joyous tears
For your beautiful love that's mine

I can never escape feeling all the emotions
For they seem to overwhelm me each day
But just like the very first time I embraced you
The raging passion of my love will always stay

I was blessed the day you embraced me
That first moment you became my friend
And ever since your spirit held me close
My life changed as I was truly born again

You have never forsaken me a single day
Of the spiritual things which in life I need
And I love those very special moments
When your living word we together read

While I lift up my song of sweet love to you
Your daily showers of heaven's  joy begins
I humbly thank you for giving your life's blood
A perfect Easter sacrifice to forgive all our sins.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Wash Away My Tears

I see the sail disappearing 
Upon the horizon blue.
Waves crashing on the shore 
As mind thinks back to you.

You are like the sail
That no longer do I see.
Seems that a waft of wind
Has taken you from me.

Was it not so long ago 
We sat upon this shore?
Words whisper of tomorrow. 
We'd be one forever more.

How we laughed and giggled,
 Waves washed between our toes
Words of I love you 
From our lips so easily flowed.

Our bodies so entangled
On the blanket we did share.
Made love under moonbeams
As waves threw mist up in the air.

That was forty years ago
We made love upon this shore.
Still have that blanket 
I will keep for ever more.

You are no longer with me 
The tide has taken you away.
But in my mind and heart
There you will never stray.

So come sit here beside me
Whisper I love you in my ear.
Hold me close and kiss me
And wash away my tears.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


She came from out of nowhere 
Her hair flowing in the breeze 
Wearing a cowboy hat and boots 
With denim skirt above her knees 

Her steed that she rode upon 
Was as white as white could be 
How magnificent they looked 
Both such a sight to see. 

She rode up along side of me 
Dismounted with such ease. 
Long legs made her skirt rise up 
My God, she was a tease. 

Her blouse was made of satin 
Undone three buttons down. 
Her breasts were free and unrestrained 
And tanned to a golden brown. 

She said "Howdy handsome stranger, 
I've been watching you for awhile, 
Is it true you're a tarnished cowboy?" 
She asked, with a playful smile. 

I said "Yes, I'm a little tarnished, 
But I can make your dreams come true. 
Is that why you came riding by? 
Did I cast a spell on you?" 

"Oh yes, I do believe your magic 
You can cast a mystic spell 
I can see you're slightly tarnished. 
How much more is there to tell?" 

I put my arm around her neck 
Our boots fell into a rhythmic stroll 
My hand was hanging loose and close 
To free buttons and her soul 

She smiled as I spoke to her 
Said "Do you really want to know? 
How I got a little tarnished 
Might not be a place to go." 

She gazed into my eyes of blue 
There was a little hint of doubt. 
My mind started wondering 
What was she really all about? 

She said, "Listen blue eyed cowboy 
I want you to talk to me 
Show me what you want and need 
I will do my best to please." 

We spread a blanket on the ground 
And together we did lay 
Campfire was burning warm and bright 
We made love, till the break of day 

When I awoke my pretty cowgirl 
Was nowhere to be seen 
Was she just an apparition? 
Was she just a mystic dream? 

Her cowboy hat and denim skirt 
Lay rumpled on the ground 
I picked them up and held them 
But she was nowhere to be found 

Guess I will keep on dreaming 
As I Hope for another chance 
To lay 'long side my Mystic Cowgirl 
And do another mystic lover's dance 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I can’t wait to have a love match

With you in a love nest 

Surrounded by love-lies-bleeding

Sitting on the love seat 

Where we hold a love knot together

And with love beads around your neck

After which we’ll travel down to Love-land 

Where we will be joined in a love-in

(c) 2010

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Blind Man

Blind man
Feeling anothers thoughts by touching his hands;
Can you tell who I am by my darker shades that follow the cracked, dry lines of your palms? Do you see what I hide from everyone else like a silhouetted tattoo? Can you tell that a concrete kids game isn't the only thing that almost broke the back of my mothers heart once? Is it the sound of my voice that pierces through your senses that makes you silence the memories deep within the recesses of your past? 
I can see you'd rather forget about it; discouragement is written all over a face that you can't even read. Does that make me better than you? Truth is, I long to see like you. Heighten my senses, Mr. Sphere, so that I may see everything that my two small worlds can't. I want to read a book backward and forward a thousand times without being so anxious to flip forward, because I imagine you're more patient than I am. I want to know the adventures of your vivid dreaming, and how safety sounds like whenever God speaks to you. I want to be able to wrap my head around the concept of appearing to look good even when I know that my clothes, cologne, and character are wrapped around my ego like bandages I never changed; I never knew I was a walking, talking, mummified optimist until I saw the stench of the lies I told myself seeping through the eyes of loved ones. I never again want to make another cry from a false truth. 
Mr. Blind eyes, could you help me to believe that their are others who look like me who see more like yourself? I don't like who I'm becoming, and I want to know that my choices won't be just for show. I want to know that when I look at my wife in her lifelines, we'll both be able to see that death has no real place in the wounds that love has healed. Bandages have to come off and stay off at some point; you'll never be able to move onto greater things until you can live with the sight of scraped knees that made sidewalk scars of your past. I want to carry her in the voice of my care, like a musical note you hold two seconds too long just because you love music. I want to be just like you, so that my child will want to look up and see more than a father worried about his job. I want to see that my breaths can take shape in the form of a beautiful baby. I want to give back.
Are you listening to me?..
God shows himself in rare forms, and sees with his heart when we ask Him out of the honesty of ours. So, by the time we've finished talking, what we've been searching for is already inside of us. God is blind to the sin of those who seek to be saved. Their will always be a second chance if you ask in an honest tone.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Time Check..clock's not working
Weather Status.. the wind's blowing
Self Check..been a lethargic
Mind Status..still in nostalgic.

Everything doesn't seem right
Still holding, what maybe right
Must not fight, it isn't a bout
Ring the bell, to say Timeout.

Funny thing, I don't get it
Now it's just a sadness to beat
What seems to be joy then
Can't barely move on, until when.

Time Check..clock's not working
Weather Status.. the wind's blowing
Self Check..been a lethargic
Mind Status..still in nostalgic.

Tic-Tac-Tic-Tac, set the alarm
So I can go back to where I'm from
Tic-Tac-Tic-Tac, bring the alarm back
With you holding it, then I know you're BACK!!

...WAKE UP!!!...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Fall In A Love

I can feel the sky, I can feel the blue sky, I can perceive the birds On the sky, I can feel the floating clouds On the sky, Which making an illusion, A fairy land, I enchanted. I can feel the breeze, I can feel the gentle breeze, I can smell out, the mildness Of the flower Blowing with the breeze. To day all the things around me, I discover with a new look, A new sense, a new feeling which Making me smile. A new language for forgiveness, patience Which giving me a different identity And help me to maintain courtesy. All that I hate comes to an wonder. In my last eighteen years I never seen before. I want to forget all I hurt, I want to forget them me hurt, I want to begin with a new identity, Because I fall in a love.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

you make me happy

You place me on the tallest tower in the world
You showed me the beauty of nature from that height
You never let me down until I am satisfy
You are truly committed to my happiness 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


So close we are,only the clouds are in between
Together we are bond Just like joined twins
Ur guidance & counsel  make my paths
Only me & you understand this language
But far beyond my reach you are,
Only time will join us again

Sometime I wish it could be a journey,
I could travel all the way to see your face.
To hear ur words of wisdom once more
& share the laughter we had
But far away you are,
And only time wiil join us

Passing one bridge of  breath to another,
Is achievement,
But,what bridge did you pass?
You left me all alone
Only holding to the live we had,
Hoping & wishing  dat death had not visited
Far away you are,
And only time will join us.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


..To miss, not to miss
..A Love, not in bliss
  Tight hug, Sweet kiss 
  This one, I'll miss..

..Heart is in abyss
  Mind is in freeze 
  Body badly decrease
  Soul not in peace..  

..Time again ticks
   Like eyes that blinks
   Breath sounds like a hiss
   Must be done with this..

..It'll be the last piece
   Make it short, don't tease
   Lonely hug, Sad kiss, 
   My final blow to this...

..Don't do this,
  I say please..
  Final line is
  Just like this ...................................+
P.S.. I forgot, I have 9 lives, am saved by this! YES!!!

Details | Prose Poetry | |


..A lonely soul walking down the lonely road, 
with own shadow to tag along
thinking no one will walk with you
never let anyone, a chance to be with you.

I'm on the same road like you
looking for someone, and life too
empty heart, empty life,empty soul
feeling like everything is out of control.

We came across each other, unexpected
not noticing what we just might needed
both our lonely soul looking for life
also love and happiness in each stride.

We took the chance to be together
to travel that road we still wonder
at the back of our mind, we both question
"are you the one?", still a bone of contention. 

I reach for your hand to hold and grip
and said wholeheartedly in a leap
"I'll be your shadow & be your light 
no more empty Life, together, just hold on tight!


Details | Prose Poetry | |


I love to water my yard.....and my feet.
My plants love to drink....
The cool water I give them.
Just like I love to water
You with my words.
Passion, lust and misty
Thoughts of love.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 1

   	The location of the Spring Creek School was on a flat, nestled 
between the cliff on the north and the Little White River on the south.  The river 
flowed in from the northwest, circled to the south of the school about a quarter 
mile and wended it's way east departing to the northeast.  Though I never saw it 
in my day I imagine this was once a flood plain.  Yes, at one time this could 
easily have been the scene of flash floods.  The waters tumbling and sloshing 
their way across this insignificant piece of ground in a hurry to reach the exit.  
Time had slowed the waters and erosion had taken it's tole, leaving the west and 
south in twenty to thirty foot sharp sandy cliffs.  The ground sloped to the east 
leaving a two foot drop off.  A sandy graded road approached the large heavy duty 
bridge, crossed and continued on as a trail road.
	It's summer and the Little White River gently rolls from bend to bend.  
We are running back and forth across the bridge stopping now and then to lean 
over the rail and watch the Indian children splashing in the only deep spot.  It was 
first comers got the choice spot.  Big deal! Chest deep to a ten year old.
           We run off the bridge south.  The graded road crosses a big culvert 
allowing a small spring access to the river where it fans out at the point of entry.  
We run through the crystal liquid turning it into chocolate and leaving dents in the 
once smooth sand.  This is a child's paradise.  Sand so pure, soft and powdery 
warmed by the sun.  The deeper we dig the cooler the sand becomes as it is 
joined by the moisture below.
	Our mothers put limits on our water sports.  First: we had to wait an 
hour after the meal to get in the water.  Second: polio was a concern in our day 
and we didn't get to play as often as we thought we should.  Third: we were not 
allowed to swim unless our mothers were with us.  With the gardening, house 
keeping and canning, we were lucky if we got to swim two or three times a week.  
I guess that is why we spent most of our time on horseback.
	On the ridge north of the school stood a lookout tower.  In the long 
evenings we would be found always outside, either sitting on the steps, running 
up and down the fire escapes or in the front yard.  This was the only real green 
grass in the area.  It was fenced to keep cattle or horses from trampling it into the 
mirrored image of its surroundings.  This enclosure measured fifty by a hundred 
feet and was kept watered.  A large tree provided the only shade

Details | Prose Poetry | |

TO LET GO by Anna Lo P

Why can't it be US?
Why does it have to be US?
We only wanted one's happiness
We just wanted love & belongingness.

Time & place, put us in regress
Worlds apart is our test,
Of life and love, so willing to offer
Because we are different, it is US who suffer.

I want to confess all the love I can give
Myself, my all, more than you can receive
You want to confess a life you can't share
Your life and self, you think is in despair.

Now, we are both in vain and agony 
We are doomed in this love & fantasy
How to part ways without US being hurt & lost
The price of love & happiness we pay with so much cost.

Is it time to let go and bid farewell?
Wishing at the end, that we'll both be well
Is it time for us to say our hurtful goodbyes?
Last kiss, last hug, end it only with but a sigh.

I don't want to listen to the drops of rain
Each drop is our weeping, that will cause me pain,
I don't want to let go, I will stay even for a while
Because it's just too hard to say the last goodbye....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Found Each Other

Found Each Other

I will catch you my baby
When you fall
Help you to your feet
Hold your hand as we run
And soaring the skies
The wind I will be 
Beneath your wings
Keep you from hurting 
And dwelling in the past

Within my embrace
It is where you belong
I love you my baby
Come into my arms
Trust me my baby
This time it’s true

You found me and I found you
You broke down my walls
And I broke down your icy shield
Let us not be afraid
Let us willingly submit
To each other’s hearts and needs
Loving with our souls

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What the hell did I do

What the hell did I do..

This question posed aggressively
now in my conscious mind.
I bury my head in my knees,
and sob relentlessly asking why,
and mumbling man you really did it this time.

Party at my place he screams,
and Man you don’t ever stop by.
These images scroll the Rolodex of my subconscious side.
Try this it will make you feel great!
You’ll have no worries for at lest the next eight.
Doesn’t that sound great!

That’s when it hit me,
like a shot straight through the heart.
I parted my metaphoric sea shore,
my arms, my legs, they are the oars.
Swimming through the blue abyss,
always watching close for shore.
Then little by little always needing more,
and more.
The hours and days went by,
oh my god how I was high.

My euphoric mind never pressed for time,
no matter the dime.
Clouds on the horizon a thunderous sky.
It was even getting late,
and the moon began to pull at the tide.
Looking back I see this was going to be a very long ride.

Pushing forward toward the shore,
limb for limb, tired and sore.
Screaming, hurry up and get here,
where out, and have got to have more.
Then the lighting began to show it’s power,
and the wind had the waves in a roar.
The rain stinging torn & chapped skin.
I began to lose consciousness, now at a merciless Drift.
Pulled way out,
fast and swift.
Their would be few that would adore.
As they wonder how long,
before I’d wash back ashore.

What the hell did I do..
This question,
posed aggressively now
in my conscious mind.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Paper Thin

I just wanted to leave a footprint. Proof we existed.
There will come a moment where you close your eyes for the final time and I don't want you to question what we had. I only ever wanted to be the last person you see.
All the breaths I inhaled where solely for you. I lived, not to follow you, or give you direction, but to be right at your side, needed or not.
I felt for you. I felt love. I felt happy. And I felt sad.
I wrote a million words in poem and prose to certify all you are to me. I catalogued every moment we shared, all the things I never got to say.
I was hopeful. That you'd break from your chains and fly to me. I've learnt my words won't set you free. My actions should've been enough.
We're as paper thin as the pages we now live on
I was afraid.
That you didn't trust or understand the devotion.
I felt I had to document every silly thing you said. I've kept away everytime you broke me, everytime I was made to feel stupid or worthless. All the hurt and I didnt turn away once. I'm still here. Don't doubt the devotion.
I locked away all the times you held me high to grasp at the stars.
Seems I was too late. The stars we see are already dead.
I just wanted to leave a footprint. Proof we existed.

Sometimes it's hard.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dear Poe

Dear Poe,

I have never "dreamed a dream within a dream" nor have I ever shut myself into a kingdom by the sea.

Nor have I ever known a girl by the name of "Annabel Lee",

But the eyes of a "Raven" do burn like a demon deep within me.

And the "Bells" do remind me that I am "alone" as I lie by myself wishing I had a beautiful bride which Poe named "Annabel Lee."

Nevermore, shall I endure a life that is but a dream.

Nevermore, shall I pray to a God we both adore if he refuses to answer me,

And this is the reason as Poe well knows that love remains but a Dream.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Baby I Really Miss You

Baby I miss you There is no way I can convey This emptiness inside. I can't explain in words of how I long to feel your touch, Despite the darkness that surround me. I always see a light inside of my heart I can't explain by word It reminds me of your smile And always brighten my day. Even though we are far apart, But I feel you are here with me, You are with my spirit Yet there is no substance, No reality I can touch. I know the distance is far To be exacted, This much I know, but I will be back soon....... Oh! Baby I really miss you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Courage is required and also pain to become a hero

I begin to rediscover love.
May it be true and
Reciprocal in order to feel
true love, the sun of happiness.
  I am enamored of her.
What shall be my next move
to take her castle? And hence,
we view each other from
Each other's towers, from
which I descend to assail
The barriers blocking me from her.

Courage is required and also pain to become a hero.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sorry I Was Thinking About Something

A man sitting across  from a woman; while in conversation gets close and closer to her face. the closer he gets the more his skins just melts upon and morphs onto her; becoming a human blob of sorts while consuming her. people walking down the street start grabbing their chest as if were obtaining the results of a heart attack; start having upright siezures and transforming into monsters. some elderly fellow answering his doorbell to a man in sunglasses that smiles, just smiles at him. his grin becomes wider and larger, just becoming a face of teeth. golden retriever puppies playing on a grassy field, bouncing around over white small moths and butterflies. two viking brothers sitting at a wooden table talking about their battles of old. a young boy standing across from a microphone on a dark lit stage, with empty chairs infront of him; wondering why he never spoke. A teenage girl whispering to a teenage boy about how fun last night was and she pulls away and laughs for the memory made. a boy dying in his hopital bed playing with his superman action figure, the life supports machines echoing through the halls. a giant hole appearing in the sky, slowly sucking away the color of the earth...
want to play a game?
1 2 3 4 5 6 9
eve ry one is fee ling fine.
stars are bright.
for they burn.
touch them. and see. what. you. learn.
1 2 3 4 8 9 10
chil dren should go.
straight. to. bed.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Gator Bait Series 1st Cold Snapped

The wind was blowing when she left the city...

I believe it was twenty below...

Where she was going she already knew...

But... first she had things she had to do...

Get rid of the body that was clear....

There were no options, it had to disappear....

The heater was broken and blowing cold air...

She could feel the ice, building up in her hair..

She had cleaned up the blood as best she could...

As she had hit him hard with that log of wood...

All she had asked him, was to light a fire...

To take off the chill in the house....

Do it yourself if you are cold...he snapped

And while you’re at it get me a cold beer...from the fridge..

It was early morning when she finally arrived at the bridge..

This was his favourite fishing spot...

She pushed his body off the pier...along with his ice cold beer..

And suddenly began to shiver and sneeze.....

Oh well, she said...this too shall pass..

When I get to the Florida Keys..

PS..this is the first in a for part 2.."gator bait..the dream "

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It wasn’t easy to fall in love with you,
though your looks were always new.
You won my heart with time
but oh! then I had no money, no dine.
with nothing to offer you but my heart and soul,
you decided to go away in search for gold
leaving me in melancholy and jeopardy.
I cried for my loss; I mourned for my tragedy.
you overlooked my errors when I had affluence
but now you underlook me in every sense
you yearned for my love before
now you snoop me unlike before,
you disgraced me amidst my friends
and you broke our engagement, caring less;
You called me “sweetheart” before
while now you call me merely “Michael”
everything you do to make me hate you
doesn’t hurt me and I curse myself for it because
am still in love with you.

My father disowned me because of your sake
and I nearly drowned in a lake
you showed no care when i broke a leg
and you left me while sick in bed
you called my mum a whore
and in my absence you stole from my meagrer store
I can’t put your deeds in words for it is long;
for after all that you did to me
am really confused and i curse myself for it
for…for… for.. am still in love with you

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I am alone...
You are alone...
He is alone...
She is alone...

We are alone...

And watching rhythm of loneliness ! 

Oh God ! You are great......


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Will You Marry Me

You know you'll always have my heart, And I have your's, you are my life. My special someone, give me the chance 'Will you marry me' ? When I close my eye's before I sleep, I'd swear that you were here, You have such a sweet face so nice But you are much more than this. God placed you for me on this earth, The only superior behind all the creation, Like I've spoken to God and He grants Because fulfills all my expectations. The symptoms which are very common Our love begins with heartache and scorn. I really like you, I hope that you like me Give me your hand, do me this honor "Will you marry me" ?

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Whenever rain falls,
It is an answered prayer for the fruitfulness of the earth
The earth buried seeds spring up in freedom
To give expression to their potential
It is the glory of the trees in the forest
That after their death, they live on
It is joy of animals in the jungle
For they have more and fresh food to eat
Only the earth prayed for rain
The seeds buried down in the earth,
The trees of the forest, the animals in the jungle
And more benefited from the earth’s prayer
A word of prayer in faith according to His will from you
Could affect millions just at that point you are standing

(c) 2007

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Hope You Know I'll Always Love You

I am what you call a hopeless 
But im also a lost lovers cause, my 
heart belongs to another
Yet in my head a love triangle starts 
to form, the girl I love doesn’t love 
She holds the heart to another and 
mine caged to the floor,
She isn’t afraid to fight for what she 
wants, not even when it comes to 
leaving another man torn
Trust me she’s happy, as that boy 
holds her heart ever so close
Seeing what I shouldn’t I smile as I 
wear my blind fold,
Blind to everything around, lifeless 
staring into air
My train of thought running so fast, 
the second I stop you’ll hear a crash
Derailing my hope, for ever finding a 
love so pure & rare
Wishing I could hold the hand of the 
lover who stole my flame,
Wish I could change the last days in 
which we parted ways,
Realizing now that we can never be 
the same
Finally saying it out loud as tears run 
down my face
You stole my happiness, as I walked 
away that day
But it’s because as of what you said 
I guessed I changed,
Now every relationship has just be 
the same,
No one can seem to bring back that 
Because a love likes ours comes 
once in a lifetime
Well at least it does to me,
But I mean you’re happy with who 
your with 
I mean I only wrote this as I heard 
exchanging “I love you” flow from 
each of your lips.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Will Never Fail

Strengthen my spirit with your precious love
Always increasing my faith deep within
Help me, Lord,  to overcome all adversity
And over worldly sins always help me to win

Unlock the deep in-dwelling power of faith
The spiritual essence which only comes from you
Pick me up each day and make me so clean
Guide me always in what i  should pursue

Please never let the enemy overwhelm me
Always protect me Lord with your hands
Setting me always upon the solid rock
Whose power nothing can ever withstand

For you are the very first one to love me
In that time with you before I was born
Always keep me safe within your embrace
So I will never again taste of satan's scorn

For I am a child of yours the one living God
And of your sustaining love my heart will tell
Because of your perfect gift of salvation
My faith in your promises, Lord,  will never fail.

Wendell A. Brown,
February 7, 2013,

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Romantic Feelings

Thus thou be kind to let me be
This heart explodes if not said to thee
Words spoken as true as love
By Jove! Ye art sent from up above

Those sweet smiles that make thy world go round and round
Just one night thine heart was not found
Because la belle dame named
Just took it on her arm

Oh I think I have gone mad
To pursue that love I never had
‘Cause I know we art two worlds away
How I wish I could longer stay

Though it may this heart ever throb
But I admit there is a locked doorknob
I can’t enter, stay outside
At that very moment I could have died

I will dream tonight f that very key
And dwell in the world of hyperreality
So that I can subtly see
The thoughts of being together; you and me

Details | Prose Poetry | |


A flower, lovely and lithe, stands basking
Before the glory of my eyes, and smiles
To the winds blowing across my fields,
That stares jealously, at what belongs to me
The fragrance of my heart!

But alas! Along comes a whirlwind,
Blowing and puffing with destructive jealousy!
Too strong for my timorous flower
And deracinate it from my garden, roots and all
Leaving a porous hole in my heart!

I groan, and moan, such a lovely flower,
Stolen from me, right in my garden
That held the dream, to grace my room
In a vase that holds my heart
Enslaved in passions and dreams! 

Oh lovely flower, gone with the wind!
Brought me such pain, and loss
Never again shall’u grace the vessel in my dreams
With fragrance from your petals,
That draws bees to thy nectar!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Danced With Me Tonight

You danced with me tonight underneath the starry sky, You held my hands tenderly and I felt I could fly. Suddenly I felt how it was like to be your girl, Never minding if the surroundings were in a swirl. But gravity pulled me down from the clouds very fast, And the fall shattered my heart into thousands like glass. So I held you tight, never desiring to let go, Let go of this moment that I have been waiting for. Knowing that the tune will stop and this dance will end soon, I wanted very much to wrap my arms around you And tell you I'm just here waiting to be loved by you. Love, even though I knew that I could never do so, It was greatly enough for me to just hold you tight. Let me hold you tight just for this dance, just for tonight.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Her Window

I’m the shadow behind your imperious stance,
Lurking in the qualms of your history.
I am the murky gleam in your squinting
                                                       …mascara caked eyes.
I am misfortune lain artfully at the floor of your 
800 thread count nest of regret.
Can you feel me?
Do your feet shudder at the touch of the cold in the morning?
That hardwood was a bad choice
                                                              ….wasn’t it?
Yet, as the dew of the dawn melds with the sweaty condensation
Of the night before and turns your window into an opaque sheen of
Comfortable security; you feel entitled enough to call me again.
            …..And your conscience throbs in unison with my ringtone.
Your stammering excuses plummet and miss their mark
Before a well-rehearsed alibi can be properly injected
Into my all too vulnerable system.
A taste like bitter wine prowls unto my heart’s palate;
And my surrogate body wakes to taste the salt of your embrace.
Your voice creaks.
My hand wraps tight around the sound of your
Insidious modulation;
While cell phone towers crackle in apparent empathy
To the strained atmosphere.
 I am left wielding a torpid tongue.
Inferences and implications are scattered and entwined;
My body tries to correlate an action
                                                                ….but I’m stoned.
Too confused to be logical.
                                                     …Too overwhelmed to even move.
Drowning in bloody promises,
with a noose of heartbreak around my neck.
 And as he reaches for what once was my heaven;
I hear a yawn of contentment that almost echoes
You lean to your window,
And wipe away droplets of our past;
And I force myself to inhale clarity.
-James Kelley 2011 ©

Details | Prose Poetry | |


by: Acquah Vicki on Saturday, June 9, 2012 at 12:07am ·














Details | Prose Poetry | |


When night falls it brings rise to my smile and mood, I rush for bed; sleep is the time 
where I am most alive. I smile into your eyes as I kiss your forehead then your nose 
and down visiting your lips for an extended stay before once again smiling into your 
eyes as I pull back. I roll you over, your back now pressed against my chest and I 
continue to firmly hold your body. The closeness ignites the heat, now open hearts 
in open hearth we melt; ingot moulds; we are one. One body, one mind; one smile; 
one love and we at peace sleep. I am in love inside this nightly ritual and dream, 
when morning arrives and your absence is once again discovered, thus triggering 
the nightmares clock punch until once again night falls and brings rise.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

GOODBYE by Anna Lo P

I still think why things had ended
between our love, which I now try to hate,
I succumbed myself into this despair 
of wanting you back, which you also hate.

Psyche oneself that I can make it
this lonely battle of heart, can i fake it?
repeatedly in disarray thoughts
God I hope I could say it's just a hoax.

People around, will you please tell me
is it wrong to fight for this love I believe?
or shall I say is it right to surrender
because it's something merely perceived.

Ya, Ya, Ya, I did get it
don't insist no more, got it?..

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mind and Heart

Impressions are like footsteps in the sand,
They leave their mark as surely as a Lover's hand
On Mind and Heart.

Suzanne Delaney

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Slipping Sleeping Gently

Too elevated for sleeping
I crave agape' pleasure
Totally slipped up
Down I go
Tripping on dream steps
Each one with its own 
Pleasure and pain
But good pain
Falling as in the season
Into you deeper
Ever closer to the bottom
REM, the flicker of it
Toggles between here and gone
With hands beyond, outside
Morbidity I grasp a melancholy melody
A still small voice of reality
You whisper " I love you, sleep good."

Details | Prose Poetry | |

And so it goes

Easy to say that she 
just walked away
His pride after all
he must always stand tall 

No matter the cost
just her love he has lost
He could never compete
with her lifestyle elite 

As she feared from the start
he would just break her heart 

He became jealous and sad
over things that she had
She tried to include him
Her love passed right through him

His words lost all meaning
and hers she was screening

Two different worlds colliding as one
All ragged and jagged until there was none

The saddest part at this journeys end
Is losing your love and in turn my best friend...

Details | Prose Poetry | |


What to do with love re-found?
Love that crept into
A heart suddenly sprung open
By a boy
In a world where the call to prayer,
Floats in the grey dawn.
A boy yes, but a man boy.
What a wondrous time, 
Before time flicked the page
And I saw the words ‘The End’.
Still I held the page open, 
Until the words blurred into infinity.
Time will tell an unlocked heart, to forget.
But even as times passes,
I say ‘Not yet, not yet.’

Not yet time, to un-see myself,
With the eyes of yesteryear. 
To feel again the years of time,
Nudging at my side.
Not time to return to old things.
This was not a lover’s love.
Nor could ever be.
No lover’s caresses
Amidst rumpled sheets, tumbling floor-wards,
As first light, breaks the night.
But still this love glows so bright.
No, it is not time to forget.
Not yet, not yet.

JM 2012

Details | Prose Poetry | |


MAS come on down front you have been chosen by the frozen tender tundra to eat the 
apple i can give her. Staccatto beating in the background leaning to the south moving in the 
night polish wont make green apple to shine. The love GOD has for all of us in is SON Jesus is 
also inside us in our Souls inside our Spirit. He did this even though none of us are worth this 
a freely given gift. Something that opens up inside us each and every day. Better then the 
food we eat the apple red and green. Better then what people give on Christmas Day the 
packages wrapped and placed underneathe the tree dont open that dont shake it up dont let 
Johnny see. Perhaps its all the things that boy has stored up all year long some new toy he 
saw on television laying on the lawn. He never picks it up now or plays for very long. This 
Christmas please think of how the Son Of God must feel when we ignore his gift to us. I feel 
so guilty of his love inside this green forgotten apple in the bucket in the snow. Sorrow not 
the answer the apple catches worms so the food stored in the bucket doesnt turn to molded 
into love when I get hungry having none I go to cuppoard never barren there. I cannot eat 
much fruit anymore but mix the trail will fill me up when there is none to find in town. For 
CHristmas is two missing weeks after Thanksgiving missing one. SUnday on the November 
twenty nine untill Friday December Eightteenth then back for three more days then Monday 
the eleventh of January I solidify for more solid days activities perhaps the apple won. Bright 
red and polished up for teachor loves. Look for me with love. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I used to know her

I used to know her,
but now not any more,
for she had left me for the gold and jewels.
I stay alone,
and she with everyone else,
People you may know,
I don't know her.

She used to be a friend,
but now not even a foe.
She was the queen of my heart,
but now not anymore.
Love was with her,
my heart devoted to her,
Beauty and all was with her;
now no more,
people you may know,
now not anymore.

You see,
that girl was my friend,
till one night that all changed.
She a good friend,
a date to the ball,
she sat on my lap,
and never did I steel a kiss from her-
for I was a gentleman,
now not anymore.

She went here,
I went there,
now we separated,
under one moon,
and one sun,
it used to be fun,
to see her smile,
to hear her laugh,
now not anymore.

For my heart cries,
and my soul shivers,
time shall surpass,
now not anymore.
I hold to the past too tight,
she walks too light,
stumps on hearts,
and cares not who she hurts,
I gaze at the photos
and I cry,
now not anymore.

I used to know her,
that sweet girl,
with that sweet voice;
her long black hair,
those wide brown eyes,
now not anymore.

She walks with friends,
both left and right,
she is center of attention,
boys gauche and drool
and I stay away,
now not anymore.

I used to know her,
tall and proud she was,
never to be like "one of them"
now not anymore.

At a party she smiles,
then she stops and her mind goes back to the ball room,
dancing in a pink dress,
on marble floor,
for one night treated like royalty,
and for one night she truly smiled,
now not anymore.

For the feelings for her were there,
but feelings for him were not,
as she young and naïve,
and I older and mature,
victimized I fell, heartbroken,
for I thought for a moment I knew her,
now not anymore.

I used to know her,
but now she is just a picture,
laying in the back of my mind,
she collects dust-
and sometimes she sits there...
(and she cries)


Details | Prose Poetry | |


if you can help me over the icy patches
the times of doubt or shouting matches
anything to tether and make this last
I can be that lovable

not insecure but in a mind set
baggage free is what you get
if my love you will accept
and not burst this bubble

lay me down in a bed of roses
cover me with love that lasts and grows
better or more than I"ve ever known
I am worth the trouble

Details | Prose Poetry | |

If you were

If you were a song
I would sing you forever

If you were a dance
I would dance with you endlessly

If you were a movie
I would watch you with smiles

If you were a house
I would live inside you all my life

If you were a light
I would use you to find my path

If you were a book 
I would read you all day

If you were a guitar 
I would touch your strings

If you were food
I would have you as my favorite dish

If you were a bird
I would mount on your wings and fly

If you were air
I will breathe you forever and ever

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I love the York Region and 22 Division Police

How many ways I can say I love the York Region and 22 Division Police. A desire that 
burns like fire in one's bussom or thirst that cannot be quenched or hunger that 
cannot be satisfied or passion that keep on folding into zillion folds, and still 
unfolding or a love that is the covering of tranquilly of the heart or love that put you 
at ease- an utopia of my loving heart. These are a few of the ways I can say that I 
love you all- a love that is multiplying each and everyday. Today, I love you more 
than yesterday,  and tomorrow I will love you more than today.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Gray Prince of Romance

I set my foot on the saddle of heart
But all were shaded, blurred, and scratched meaningless
I heard a whisper and tempted
Who was wandering within the fog?

This world seemed to be collapse ...
Or was it hiding?
Would it be stated in the relevant of logic and a conscience?

The heart says yes
The cavity of mind says no

A contradiction which fails to take the truth as the end of a fact

Lips say yes
Eyes say no

Will you be able to break through the hypocrisy which was anesthetized in it?

This must be a dream ...
And I hoped it would be ended as a dream ...
A dream which described about a big whirl
An endlessly linear which revolved upon a life

Which I hoped I would never be involved 

But it was too late ...
I am here, standing as the pivot of a dilemma ...
For a moment I stood on my silence
Try to analyze the situations ...

For a sudden I speak to an empty room
What are you searching for?
Is it a black or white instead?
And the breeze of wisdom back whispered

"You're looking for an obsolete"

"You're looking for the gray prince of romance"

Author's Note:
You may see the other version of "Grey Prince" by Richard Lamoureux

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Can't Let U Go

"You brought me into this world. You guided me the best you knew how to. You watched me 
grow before your very eyes and yet you still can't seem to let me go. Now the tables have 
turned, for I've watched you live your life with out me there. Watching you live your life 
alone and free. Now its my turn to lend you my hand. As I guide you on your way and watch 
you leave this world when the time comes even though I still can't let you go." 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Like An Angel from God

Years passed with no attempts at finding the one,
The one to cherish forever and call mine.
My inner soul sometimes cried from loneliness
But was it a simple relationship I had been yearning for?
Or was I crying out something so much more?
I could feel the struggle between body and mind
The scorn, 
How it left my heart completely torn.
I began to think I would never taste,
But not a normal taste,
I began to think I would never get that real taste of Love.
Realizing Love was no abomination,
That it was possible
Possible for anybody…
And like an Angel from God 
I found my one
The one to call mine
I felt as if I had bamboozled Loves obstacles.
The one that I now call mine is like no other
She undoubtedly is something special. 
Our Love has only begun to bloom
But the tender touch of her heart against mine,
Makes the passion and Love for one another burn like an endless flame

Details | Prose Poetry | |

In the Eye of the Storm

As young people, we feel we are in fact immortal,
 like the pits of death will never cut the breathe of our pharynx short,
 until tragedy strikes and reveals to us that death and sorrow have no respectable persons
 regardless of race,gender,nor age, my revelation came in the form of a massive ef-5 tornado,
 as I sat in the hall along side my mother, we could feel such uneasiness and vexation,
 as if we were a two time felon in the courtroom during sentencing, then the mallet drops,
 wind consuming us,debris flying overhead,I heard the house I resided in being ripped to shreds,
 I felt my body rising off of the floor, I just knew I was dead,
 wish I could tell my family bye, I love you deeply within,
 then I begin to cry out Lord please forgive my unspoken sins,
 dirt circulating everywhere, I could not open my eyes,
 then I felt someone tightly clinch me, I guess he heard my cries,
 after the storm it was such a unique calmness, 
like a mother after she conceives, 
suddenly I heard people crying out, trapped under debris, 
I continued to ponder where did the hands come from that saved me...
 it was my mother, she told me she would die for me, because ill always be her baby..

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Love oh love why did u go so far from me!
I used to know you and feel you 
I always wanted to make you mine
but now all I have is nothing 
Will you leave me forever
Will I never know you again

You have left me empty
Empty enough to make me fall 
Can I ever find you
Can I at least see you, if only a minute

All I can say is bye
b/cos it is all that is left to say.
At least, I once had you

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What if I Kissed You

A kiss, a kiss was all I asked for, symbolizing my undying admiration of you as a whole, tainting your lips with ones that have whispered sweet nothings to your ears, ears that I made stand on their toes for the unexpected, becoming more apprehensive, but so much has happened in the past few days, if there's one thing love's taught me, it's that kisses tell a million tales. What if I kissed you right now?.. would it bring us any closer or would we just part like the red sea, would our worlds as is hereafter speak of nothing but the good and our love grow to be as unexplainable as she.. what if I kissed you.. affections expressed in a moment where pet names linger across lips unrelenting. Eyes meet and faces draw together while our minds orbit elliptical periods around one another, deem it a solar system, stop the music like i stole ya rhythm &say we lost ourselves in the heat of our own passion, passing days by enveloped inside ourselves slow dancing to the beat of our hearts. Holding you close like I'd die letting you go, thinking, what if I kissed you right now... Could we make clocks stop till judgment day and be lovers in and out of time like Angelou stated, would be morph to the brink of combustion just being overwhelmed by each others touch, or would we just be? Never afraid of lions tigers and bears, but I cant help but fear becoming so sick, so sick of love sons turned penetrating enomolies like your kisses which obtained keepsake as a copious mannerism in my everyday agenda.. &writing this while you're asleep gives me all the comfort of a fourth wall closure, kissing your forehead as you lay on my shoulder thinking if only i'd done that while you were awake. but she&I were unceasing, so the kisses we'd share were even more memorable than Victoria's best kept secrets...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

WHY ME by Anna Lo P

When I met you, I asked you
Why me? Why me? Why me?
Is there any reason for you 
to love someone like me.

You said "Never mind reasons"
And I felt maybe that's the reason
A reason for no reasons I want to hear
A reason I wouldn't fear.

And I asked myself those too
What is there about me? 
That something that he liked 
and hopefully he might pursue.

I'm not pretty, nothing to love
I'm not sexy, nothing to love
I'm not young, nothing to love
I'm not even his own kind, nothing to love.

So what is there about me?
Something which made him to like me?
Just a regular ordinary lady
Maybe I'm a girl that's extraordinary.

I'm funny, something to love
I'm naughty, something to love
Im a crying baby, something to love
I'm a sweety, something to love
I'm caring, something to love
I'm thoughtful,something to love
I'm smart, something to love
I'm a one fine lady, someone to love
I'm extraordinary, someone to love
I'm a Once in Lifetime Woman, you must love. 

But you're not around anymore
And can't hear this paramore, no more 
I still ask myself if there could be more
So you can love me, am I such a bore?..:(

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Hand Poem

My father’s hands are very twisted
They’re strong and built with lots of muscles
They’ve helped me learn
So many things as I have grown

In my life
They have helped me learn
How to ride a bike
They’ve helped me defend myself when needed
And I have come to realize
That without his hands to guide me
Through this world
I would not make it

NOTE*** This is from my CD A Father’s Love Letters
To listen to the CD please visit
This was written by my daughter when she was nine.
One of the many reasons it’s great to be a parent :)

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April And The Lost Stamina Sussex County I

-Honey go to the Dr
-April I don't know Am I still alive?
-Do it for Us, ours strive
-And the watcher what I should say?
-Tell him the all system was hacked 
-The all system was hacked William (Blush)
-we going to do some tests now 

"this guy is one in a million"

Two weeks 
1000 Doc critiques 
Deliberation: -Not going.
April goes to the office, -so Easy going how is he?
Good so far The CPU is Ok, Keyboard and Screen Alright 
The power A-L-W-A-Y-S in save E mode 
See this <| ...
He will never again hit the road with full load 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

All About A Red Saturday

At last time has brought me to this day yet again on another Saturday night things forever will end sweet flowers with petals in need For me it is nothing more than a day my life will begin the pain I feel will forever remain yet to others it is merely a Saturday Here I stand at the path of yesterday and today for tomorrow there will be nothing more to say in so many demanding ways I thank God it is Saturday The last day in a week seen as play but as for me it is such a lonesome day tomorrow is day number one the day life begins has yet begun Peace floods me in my solace this day knowing it is final, done, ended, this 5th day in May the day I was finally told to give up and walk away I am no longer trapped by my fears or waiting for he to cause me pain I am the one who won on this Saturday At last I do not care to be played or hurt to the extreme, a lovers old tired game I want to thank you for moving on to another's sweet way This will forever be known as Red's blessed Saturday and with this release back into the wild game I find my heart pure for those locked deeply away thank you for letting me be and not trying to keep hurting me SATURDAY is officially my lucky day! enjoy the date that you made, love her deeply, cherish her face for I will forever remain ever-so grateful for this Saturday To you both I thank you, and send a prayer of passionate love your way! At last I can be happy all because of one Saturday in May! To me a new anniversary I have now made, with God's amazing grace.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Words From My Thoughts

I spent the days looking at the ground
I thought the world had clipped my wings
I spent the hours saying I felt down
I had no strength. I felt entangled in things
And then I hear you called me (Godson)
I set my face into the breeze
I lift my head. I spread my wings and I am free
My heart was heavy in the valley down below
My soul was empty, void of love

My sight was cloud by the dust the world blows
So I set my mind on earth not things above
But now your lifts me up 
From the sick bed in which i lie groaning
I will not be conquered, I am destined for your love
Courage is three letter words
Real courage is saying YES to life
Not backing down when faced with adversity
courage is acting with fear, not without it
Angel! I really love you deep down my heart.

Life is filled with challenges and opportunities
Mountains to be climbed conquered with others to follow
When you are no longer interested in climbing mountains
to see other mountains to climbed, life is over
Vision sees the invisible
Believes the incredible
And then receives the impossible
This makes the blood never to run cold
Because loves for the path of the future lives
A mind that makes Success my QUEEN

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Cobwebs that Smiled and Tick Tocked My Teeth.

I wondered about midnight, with the


of my tongue standing straight up in between my teeth, my hair fell to places that were
begging for his fingertips, for the smooth warmth that occurs when he kisses my skin...

I laughed at moments we shattered, because destruction is amusing when you are in love,
and I was untouchable then, my breath sounded like time and time...

bit me...

leaving bruises that resembled....


I wanted to submerge his inebriated head with the secrets I hid behind my smile, and if
spaces were eventual then surely I'd reach for him, but he'd never remember the corners of
my mind when he slept, he'd never have nightmares from the knowledge that my cobwebs have
captured his smile...

I walked through us as if we were ghosts, I saw the images of our every mistake, I bit my
lip and threw my shoes to the bottom of forever just to see if I could hear them tumble,
so I'd know what I'd sound like if I...

were to fall in.

I begged for quiet with the twisting of rings and my thumbs seemed naked despite the
donning of Seattle, and you know the mountains there, they whisper secrets when you're too


to hear them, when you're too caught up in the beauty of possibilities to listen...

so I found myself quite possibly caught and I wondered if his webs glistened in the
moonlight that dropped from sleep

I wondered if they smiled

if their tongues clicked

if they felt



Details | Prose Poetry | |


I've seen beautiful before.
I've seen you on the inside a time or two,
a nice place to live that I guess no one can afford.
Today I see this little world from a different light..
(Cliche, I know)
maybe it is just an angle that differs?
Or maybe it is a concussion.
A fracture to the infrastructure of my existence,
my head or my heart?
I don't know which one.
Colors and objects standing still only mock me,
like they have more of a right to be here than I do.
And the particles and knots of wood and stone that stretch around my head 
tell me that they know more than I do.
Am I really nothing like they say?
Tip-toeing around,
my movement only complicates things...
I'm fractured.
Please tell your demons to stop mocking me?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 2

 The surrounding grounds were prairie grasses and brush.  Trees were 
scattered along the west boundary while the eastern area was furnished with a 
heavier growth of various kinds of trees.  Willows and buffalo berry bushes lined 
the bank.  If you were so inclined this would make a perfect spot for a picnic.  
This was beyond the school grounds, grasses were tall here. 
	I mentioned the fire escape.  Boy, how we loved these appendages.  
They were situated on each end of the school. Access was from windows four 
feet off the floor in the bedrooms.  We would pull a large wicker lounge chair up 
to the window and scramble over the chair using the high back as our final step 
as we boost ourselves head first through the window.  There usually was a 
screen but it was never hooked.
	 My aunt, uncle and their three children were the only residents of this 
school for nine years.  I can't remember for sure , but the first five or six years they 
did not have electricity.  Water, but no electricity.  The last two or three years they 
had a generator.  I just loved it.  I remember how proud I was when I had gotten 
old enough to carry the kerosene lamp myself.
	The lower portion of the school had a ten foot wide hall extending the 
entire length of the school with double wide doors at both ends.  On the east of 
the school it was four steps up, in the front door, a four foot long area then up two 
steps up to the main hall.  On the right were two large class rooms.  On the left 
was the kitchen, a bathroom with showers, utility closet then the stairway up to 
the apartments and another bathroom, with showers.  An entry way leading to the 
outside where the front yard was.  The commissary, a sewing room and a 
garage large enough to house a school bus. The west end of the  hall ended 
with  four steps leading to the outside doors.
	West of the school was the building called the CANNERY, it also was 
the meeting place for the tribal members and contained three or four weaving 
looms.  A double garage with a gas pump and two large tanks for gas lay off to 
the north of the cannery.  A dense growth of trees separated the school from the 
barn.  It was a well kept large barn.  Well used I should add also.  At least by us 
kids.  Other out buildings were two quonset hut buildings and pens, a chicken 
house and a couple of sheds for the hog pen,  Which I must add was another of 
our favorite sports, riding the hogs.  All of the buildings were painted white.  It 
really was a sight to see.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Untouchable Hearts

Lustful hearts are too hot to hold And depressed ones are just too cold, These dear old hearts can't be touched Even if they find someone they love too much, It'll never be propper... it'll never be right Even if they find pleasure in physical delight, No but these hearts must change if they hope to be held and find the illusion that they could be held... dispelled.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Juliet's Plea

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3

Juliet's Plea

Dost thou deem, heav'n only rises with the corpse
upon the last sweet breathe of virgin light
as face dost pale to pearl and roses leave my lips tonight
Romeo, my living eyes knew naught your purpose.

In sooth, I thought thee dead on that black night
and so, no other earthly joy could stay my heart
but heav'ns had we all, before this sorry plight
pray pardon love, I would nay have thee depart.

Abide, abide my love, my Romeo, alas...
by your leave, I hold St. Peter’s gate op’ for thee
And verily, I wait for time is naught in death 
and thee, my love, my Lord, are all to me. 

*Their love and their deaths were a scandel.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I have discovered the importance of communication manure,

In the garden of life where the seeds of love and friendship are sown.

I have discovered that the healing of a broken heart,

Is in its openness to the wind of love that abide arounds.

I have discovered that the storm last only for a while,

But the peace that comes afterward abide within and ever.

(c) 2007

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Last Romantic Moments

I know I truly love you, Every day when I see you I fall in love all over again. I have looked so many times The moments in your eye's And I know what is love. I found the one whom My soul loves. You my beloved my sweet Dreams of night, The precious raindrops On Sahara desert, The first bud of my beautifully Decorated garden, The only fool-moon On my lovely sky. You are the most valuable and Important part of my life. The song of the dawn, The coolest breeze of summer, The extra bit of specialty Which very much important For any successful occasion. You are my last destination, My madness, My words of consolation, My last romantic moments.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Beatitudes

What is it you crave? Song? It has not been long enough for my breath to play 
stealth in dedication of love gone. I know you know this love life was designed for 
persistence to glow and life to grow, allow the prosperity without surrender and 
show your face with graceful smiles. No disgrace or shame nor exiled blame, only 
pride of a love you think fondly of. Walk at my side, your soft hand inside the grip of 
mine and sunshine lights our desired path; through breeze we share a laugh. The 
calm trees shade hurt that recedes un forgave back through root to dirt. Supply my 
mind with wine then subside and be my love divine, know my thoughts at all time; 
show my hands the knots upon your spine and unwind my love. Bygone pressure 
forgot, collapse and gasp your breast on thy chest strain the hasp that holds the 
heart lock. The door is open, so without knock enter and I will be there; fair in offer 
of kiss and vows of forever. Yes, you are my wish.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Will I Still Make You Swoon


We walked hand in hand,
On a crisp autumn eve.
...Both gazing up
At the pretty colored leaves.
Though we had only met
Just a short time ago.
I was struck by an arrow
shot from Cupids bow.
I was not looking
For a long time love affair.
Had my turn at failure.
Felt again I would not dare.
Seems that the same words
Came rolling off your tongue.
Said you were hurt before
When you were very young.
Said you were leery
Of anyone you meet.
Then you lifted up my spirits
When you said "I'm kinda neat"
Asked if you would like
To have a warm cup of tea?
When you said yes,
Surprised the heck out of me.
You had the green tea,
And I ordered black.
The things one remembers
As your mind wanders back.
Well we've been together
Now so many years .
Had so much happiness
Yes, and even shed some tears.
But I still can see
That twinkle in your eye.
And I still get excited
When I hear your sigh.
So how about a walk?
For it’s a crisp afternoon.
When I whisper that I love you.
Will I still make you swoon?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

will never let you go

I am your pilot to guide your sky
I will dive in the ocean to rescue you
I am your fence to protect you
I will be that concrete foundation
You relied on forever
And you are the one I will never let go. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

my life time partner

The crowd was so much
Yet you found me
The noise was very loud
Yet you recognized my voice
The road was so dark
Yet you led me through
I am happy you are my life time partner

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Lost

Love Lost…

Morning star shines down on me
I seek the shade 
The shade of the great oak tree
It casts a giant shadow across both of your hearts
Across mine

The cool breeze blows through the field
Between the rows of etched marble stone
And beyond the blades of overgrown grass
Your resting places I see

In the peace and quiet of the morning
I sit, I stand, I talk to both of you
I breathe; deep
Exhale in a sigh
Unable to fight the tears
Not really wanting to try

I find myself needing to spend time with both of you
But have neither Mother, nor Father
I am no longer a child, but a man?
I am all that you both have made me
Your love and guidance cannot fail me now…

Details | Prose Poetry | |


`````````````````````````````````````````````````````March 27, 2013
Vicki Acquah

APPRECIATE EACH OTHERS POETRY or story                                                      
DON'T EVER THINK I DON'T.              








Details | Prose Poetry | |

Life is a Healing Journey

The heart above all things, most fragile,
     bears all things.
So easily wounded when past scars beckon;
Unhealed, unreckoned.
Reminding me;
     of life’s journey past,
     awaiting to be healed,
     forgiveness to be sealed.

Forgiveness must allow
     the healing that I wish.
For the heart above all things, most fragile;
     bears all things where love abides,
     when healing does reside.

Today, an opportunity not to miss
     the healing that I wish.
So, ABBA, forgiveness I release
     so healing will replace,
     and love most precious will abide
     when forgiveness does reside.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Innocent Moment

I was stareing at you just the other day and just another way, just another moment
to bring fond memory of your sweet lips & sexxy hipp's as my mind went wondering on 
a longly trip.  A trip of yesterday's - days of when we first met and on this trip of my mind,
I cann't forget those words that was said to each other and I remember whispering as we
laid there and kiss, and my heart did spent, the way you look at me was love at "Innocent
Moment". Love, WOW! such a powerfull word as then trouble came and things began to 
change and two ships on a voyage for whatever the star's were destine to be we quickly
became lost of the moment and you said, "you nolonger love me".
    But as the day's turn to months and then to year's gone by.  One day by grace we met
again face to face, thing's had change we no-longer hunger for the worst of our attitude, 
you saw the man in me I saw the women in you, together the link in the chain began to 
strengthen our relationship, hand's all over each other the message of love was well sent.
Lip's touching together, two bodie's caresing together for us was, "Innocent Moment".

Details | Prose Poetry | |

To love for love and not for self

To love and then experience love,
Oh what a dream to dream.
Do to tell me if it's really real:
To care without ulterior motives,
To love without ulterior motives.
To love for love and not for self.
do tell me if it's really real,
If it's really real
To love for love and not for self.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Me and you, you and me

The mood is set….
Me and you, you and me
The warmth of Love swims through us both
My touch on your body
Soft and sensual
Your skin lingers,
Your emotions begin to spill like an overflowing caldron
O’ how you desire this moment between…
Me and you, you and me
Your gentile hands on my body,
The touch so delicate 
And your lips against mine
For these feelings we share cannot be defined
Our bodies become one
Together in Love….
Me and you, you and me
Your sweet embrace I cannot resist
And you the same 
Our bodies’ dance together,
A dance of passion and Love
Still as one.
For this moment will end
But the passion,
The Love,
Will last forever…

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I awoke from a dream I was Dreaming; into a Dream I was  Dreaming
About  “ Barbara Jean “ , the Centre of my Soul, twinkling Stars ; Above
Calling my name; holding my heart, bringing Truth to unknown “ Reality “
This ; Mr. HGarvey Daniel Esquire ; is a Love you can not Escape
Hold Her, Caress Her, LOVE Her  Forever : Each Eon of ETERNITY
Together as One “ Entwined , as One “; to the FOREVER and ALWAYS
                      “ Barbara Jean : “  I LOVE YOU “

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Late Comer

Spent and Battle Weary, the exhausted figure trudges the well worn path like the to-ings and fro-ings of some relentless seaside donkey. Utterly defeated,she resumes her rhythmic rocking, almost robotic in its ministry. No welcome here for this fretful form Out of time This usurper of liberty, predator of new found freedom, like the parasitic mistletoe as it clings to the enduring oak Consumes the spirit Outflanked by convention, choice simply a misconception, The woman capitulates before her adversary. The final shades of moonlight fade from the sky. The child, enveloped in the first vestiges of sleep, Surrenders its hold. The early morning sunlight precociously animates its shadowy dance; and Fairies cavort upon this tiny form, playground of elfins and pixies; the elixir, the effervescence in champagne. I brush the hair from the forehead of the sleeping child My heart is swollen No enigma here; only my daughter

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The Complexities of Life

Why is it that we do that which we don’t want to do
And we don’t do that which we want to?
This is the question that troubled the Apostle Paul 
A man of God, who still struggled with those inner tendencies.
It’s a question that troubles me, too,
The good that we should do, seems so hard to do
The evil, so easy…because it is in our nature to err
I find it mind boggling that the very fibers of my being
Seem to be drawn to the forbidden…
Is it because it is sweeter? Easier? More fulfilling? Simply…human nature drawing me?

Ah, but there is a transcendent joy 
From doing what is unnatural to us:
To love the unlovable
To uplift the fallen
To be faithful to the faithless
To return blessings for curses
To forgive instead of get even
To love instead of to lust

Are we justified in doing what comes naturally because after all…we were born this way?
We are just following our natural inclinations?
Then, I ask…what makes us different from the animals that follow their basic instincts?
Is there a difference? At times there doesn't seem to be. Delayed gratification seems unheard of. We want to relish this moment...there here and now...whatever the cost. We put our morality on a shelf and give in to the basic instincts to be satisfy. Is there a difference?

Yes, there is…for we have been given the power to reason and to choose the high road.
It isn’t by accident….we were created with that power. We need to put it to good use, and we will have divine help to do that, if we so choose. It isn’t easy….but then again, sacrifice never was. It has a price. Ask Jesus….it cost Him his life.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Physical Love

Without warning, he asks me
And our energy becomes potential.
Stretched by my inertia and his kinetic force,
The whole cannot remain constant.
The velocity is staggering before I say a word.
We are accelerating through supersonic silence,
His question hanging, creating shock waves
That radiate, exploding the sky.
He is drowning in this supernova suicide,
And I, as his companion in this
Binary system, cannot outshine him
Nor can I resist his mass as we collapse
Underneath the weight of this gravity.
"Is this love?" he asks again, as we spiral,
Twisted together and fragmented.
"Is this love?"
And my answer comes beyond the event horizon.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Teenage Confusion

How could this be.
He said I was perfect,
As he looked at me.
A common misconception...
A deadly lie he told
Now I'm a rejection?
I lie hear so cold.

My vision blurs,
So does my life.
Nobody who cares
His future wife
But that was all gone.

Sweat rumbles of frustrated birds,
escape and now rumble in my mind.
Thousands and thousands coming in herds,
Why so hurtful, please be kind.

Love is harmful and so blind,
Pay it's price or forever hide.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Every time you listen to my songs
I will be sending you a great big kiss
And though I moved beyond your sight
Know all of you I will surely miss

Always remember the joy and laughter
That always found a home within my face
Always think about all the wonderful times
I took your mind and heart to another place

Please try never to shed unhappy tears
Each day my love ones while I am away
For there will be a time in the near future
When again in each others arms we'll stay

And tomorrow morning when you think of me
About the love you always saw in my eyes
Remember wherever you might be in your life
My spirit will never again leave your side

My family I miss all your hugs and kisses
Which I will always treasure, and I am sure
One day soon again we will laugh and sing
Together in heaven with our precious Lord.

A poem i was moved to write for Whitney, a beautiful
spirit, while listening to Stevie Wonder sing 'Love is in need
of love at here funeral!

Wendell A. Brown
Copyright  February 18, 2012,
All Rights Reserved.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

What is 'LOVE'

'What is Love?' 
For someone,its an ocean to dive. 
For someone,its like honey from hive. 
For someone,its a song to sing. 
For someone,its like flying without wing. 
But to love & to be loved is not easy. 
As everything is not always well. 
So what's love,through my pen, 
i'm going to tell. 
Once there was a boy and a girl. 
The girl was cute & boy was nice. 
Both loved each other a lot, 
& could understand each others' heart's voice. 
The boy used to say to the girl, 
"I am living with no heart. 
I have given it to you & 
now you hold my this special part." 
Everything was good and going fine, 
But no lovestory is possible without pinch of pine. 

One day the guy told her, 
"On me,my parents have good hope. 
I don't want to disgust them 
as well as with them,i can't cope. 
I can't promise you to marry 
but we will be friends always." 
The girl didn't complain for anything 
& with a compelled smile,she says, 
"My hapiness lies in that everything 
 that makes you and your family to rejoice. 
I have no issue and always agree 
with your every decision and choice." 

Few years later,  
the boy became a successful one. 
His parents chose a rich girl, 
and with her,they married their son. 

Day after his marriage, 
when he was unwrapping his gifts, 
his eyes fell upon a big box, 
that was packed attractively & hi lifts. 
On opening that,he found a glass jar, 
full of blood and a heart in it. 
Firstly he shocked but started crying 
after reading the enclosed note chit. 
Actually,the gift was from his love 
& it was last note of her life. 
"Idiot,if your heart will be with me, 
what will you give to your wife.?" 

The message from this story 
that i would like to give. 
"Never find a reason to love, 
but be the reason for someone to live. 
Love is a precious feeling. 
It never dies if it is pure. 
its not to get someone but 
to give up anything for him,make it sure.."  

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Best of Friends

I want the world to revolve around you
I want you to be upset if you feel I am ignoring you
I want that pain to tug upon heart
when you can't get in touch with me 
I want that tear drop to run gently down your cheek 
when you think of me so far away 
I want that heart of yours to long for me 
when you hear the pitter patter of rain drops on your window sill
For my love, if you stop wanting any of the above 
Then what we have now will 
I am afraid , turn into what we had .
So let our minds draw wisdom from our hearts 
Let our hearts draw wisdom from our minds 
Let them share equally that wisdom
So they,like us ,
Can become the best of friends 
Then the best of lovers 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I walk
I talk
I possess an image
That image
I am the woman

The woman who is 
In absolute possession
Of the courage
As brave as a warriors staff
The woman who knows her rights 
And fights for it
I am the woman
With the “man”

I feel 
I heal
I possess a heart
That heart
I am the woman

The woman with 
An inner child
With an overflowing joy
With no worries bigger
The woman whose gleeing spirit
Brings hope to all
I am the woman
With the “womb”

I make
I create
I possess an art
That art
I am the woman

The woman herself
Stringing together
All pieces of earth
And soothing the broken
The woman whose arms
Wraps those she loves
I am the woman
That woman…

©Naa Takia, All Rights Reserved 2012

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A Blessing

I rise each day with a song in my heart
And so rich is its blossoming melody
For I know my heart has heard his call
Yes His dear precious call of life to me

I sleep so peacefully throughout the night
Dreaming lovingly of His grace which stays
I know  he always listens to my prayers 
For I daily feel His answers coming my way

I know I will never be left to strive alone
For his spirit has made my heart its home
And as I reach out to him with praise words
He eases the aches and pain within my bones

For His love is a very true healing medicine
Whose touch will evenly flow deep within
And with each tender blessing I receive daily
I know more embraces will come my way again

...because of His deep love for me. 

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                                Under the tree of knowledge
                     Your figleaf dropped, my first seeds squirted
                                 A strange thing happened
                                         Love was born.

                                      Million years rolled
                                   In your black doe eyes
                                       I see her shadow
                                         She is not old
                                        She is not dead
                                 She is swimming in your lake.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Demon

When men were more primal, they were suspicious of all outside their clan, 
they would band together for survival, still today suspecting won't give way and 
lives in the heart of each, and every man. It goes by the name of indifference, the 
demon that breeds with hate. Now there's been a revival, but all men are still 
tribal, a victim of our fate. We all must fight this demon, for it is our very souls we 
have at stake.

  I never considered myself racist, because I did not hate. but I did not love; I did 
not feel, and I didn't even think. Men of another color were so little to me. I did not 
hate them, I did not loathe them, I just let them be. They were the object of my 
indifference, said that demon deep in me; buried too deep to see, the demon that 
would not go free.

  It is few men that get to look within, at the indifference they have sown. Fewer 
men still get the change to kill, that demon in their soul. At the birth of my 
grandson Jordan, who was fathered by a race not my own. Love for that child 
shined bright through my heart, so that demon in me I could see. The object of 
my indifference my grandson could never be. His love I now hold, it fill the hole in 
my soul where a demon once lived in me.

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Green Gardens

I hear things.....words...and sounds...that I think are real....that wake me up...from dreams.  
It is something so unreal....that I think about how you have told me I am something from a 
past I do not's wonderful for me to think that you have entered into me a world 
asleep....deep inside of me..

Kathryn chanted....on a full moon.....
For a savior....
She knew her Gods would
Not deliver...

Yet she chanted on......

He is not worthy of your love
They told her...
He is a mortal....
A brutal warrior....

Oh mother she cried....
He is but what he is...
A man so giving...
His life is ours not knowing...

So test him they said
If his love is as true
As you say...
We must have proof.

I know him...
I have felt him...
In my heart
I know his love is true...

You are our life
In this world....
Green gardens we have given you....
To keep and protect...

Oh yes..I know the secrets
You bestow...
But love is what I desire
To know....

Child of ours...
Pure of heart and body...
Is the price we ask
Of you...

For our gift of protection...

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Mostly I care about my heart 
But always crush my heart
I don’t want to know if there is anyone for me
Just sad for losing everything who was for me
All things going wrong out of that

Away! Away! Away! Away!

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The Sunset

It's all about  
The last drop of sunlight
That flickered in your eyes
And trickled down
my cheeks.
In departure.

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I'm Feeling Sick Today Let's See What and How Much I Can Bring to the Table

Like brilliant waterfalls do, peregrinating down-cascading themselves about them in their glorious way upon the humble streams as they-go, joyful is the soul trammeled grateful the heart the mind hopeful - its greater desire for freedom moving-it-a- ways-farther-beyond the- staleness of its-same tiered-old- prison - love opening the door - full of God's goodness the crispness of the air its pureness rushing in to greet it - its mundane life renewed as it were now - being made secure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author notes 3 poems written 1 year ago. I decided to form them individually today here: 10th Dec 2010. Formed as I brought them from another site from their original forms as they are there. Was curious while in the midst of forming; noticed they would as I had formed them fit together. Had no idea they would fit this way together as they have now. Hence the name given for the poem in thank you, for: "God's Goodness", because it is He that was the inspiration, as well the Guide/Mastering of the hands that formed them. Thank you for reading. Their names are as follows as I brought them formed them: A Permanent Home, I'm Feeling Sick Today Let's See What and How Much I Can Bring to the Table, The Longing. I Had no idea I was forming a candle. I invite you to read: as well investigate as to why I ask you of this, "please":. I am so honored you have stopped by friend you have blessed me-yes - I wish as well to bless you. ~ Love ~ James ~ (or if you will) ~ e v e r y o n e 1 ~

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Do I Know You From Somewhere

Hello, excuse me, but
Do I know you from somewhere?
You look so familiar to me
Please forgive me, I didn't mean to stare.
But I saw you just the other day
As you were passing me by
Your smile jumped out at me
I so desperately wanted to say hi.

But I was too captivated
To utter a single word
They just got all tied up inside
As my emotions were stirred.
Round and round inside me
As I looked for the words to say
Hello, how are you,
Are you going my way?

Can I take a moment of your time
To get to know you better
Perhaps I can give you my number
Or write you a letter.
I feel like I know you
From another place and time
As if we were together
And our souls intertwined.

Just imagine for a moment
Would you please?
Think of us together as one
Sharing the warmth of a summer breeze
Taking a walk through the park
Or maybe along the beach
Watching the sunset fade into the waters
Putting the moon just within our reach.

Well I guess my dream is over
Oh how I wish it were true
For you to feel for me
As I feel for you.

Think about it.........

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Little Girl

He walks in with a ring
Asks my Daddy for his blessing
Tells him how much happiness I bring
Tells him that his little girl is a rare porcelain princess
And he wants to be my prince; he doesn't want to settle for less
"So please," he begs just say "Yes!"
Daddy just looks at him with a tear in his eyes and an emotional stare
He sees his little princess climbing trees
He sees his little girl crying over scraped knees
Sees his precious hugging him in past memories
Hears her telling him; "Daddy! I love you!"
"Daddy, it's a secret! Don't tell mommy please!"
He can feel her excitement when she goes on her first date
He can see her riding her first bike
Getting into a snowball fight
Daddy's little girl always gives him radiant smiles
Daddy's little princess always remembers to give him a good night kiss
She gives her symphony of love and generosity to the world
But she always saves a special shine for father
Going on hikes
Reading together
Riding her first bike
"Daddy, listen to this song please!"
"Daddy! Please come pick me up!"
He remembers all the happy and sad memories

Details | Prose Poetry | |

the hearts are played

The hearts are played,
and the cards have been dealt;
the pot has risen to gambler's recognition,
and then when nothing is left to put in the pot
the gamblers throw in their hearts.

Yes the Queen of Hearts knows how to dance,
and sing songs to those lonely men with nothing to lose
but their lives that are already wasted away by
the carnal passions of life and sin.
She takes them by the hand and comforts them;
now she has her way with them.

The hearts are played
and the games are gained
the stakes run high,
till we break and fold,
yes we gamble away our love
to the Queen of Hearts
and not only do we lose our hand,
but our hearts we lose as well-

The hearts are played,
and the games are gained,
she comes to me and says, "Oh love me once again,"
and I turn and walk away,
for she had gambled away our love for too long,
and the players have their way with her.


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No Pictures In The Picture Frames

No pictures in the picture frames
They just hang lonely on the wall
There's no fire in the firplace
No footsteps in the hall
Don't know when it happened
Know it wasn't just yesterday
As we were growing older
Our love seemed to slip away!
When I would reach out for you
In hopes that you still cared
But no matter what I did or said
You were distant - just not there!
They say one can see the future
Just by looking in their past
Should have paid more attention
Would have known this wouldn't last
Now someday in the future
I will fill again those empty frames
Build a fire in that fireplace
To see once again its flames
I know that I will hear once more
Footsteps echoing down my hall
Finding joy and happiness
With a new love after all
I don't know if that's my future
But I know that I shall try
When I give my love to someone else
I'll be aware of yesterdays gone by 

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Time Heals All Wounds, But It Doesn't Rid The Scars

Faith lost, love failed All because of what's unveiled. And in this pain I have been jailed. It was not you, it was all me And no one else will ever see How these things all came to be But now it's lost, now it's gone I watch the sky for signs of dawn Yet I never played you as my pawn. I hid in dark, I hid in lies I kept it all from dark brown eyes I now await for harsh goodbyes. No one will see, no one will hear The reasons I held these secrets dear Yet visions' still blurred by means of tears I watched you rise, I watched you grow And that's why you did not know The deceit I had yet to show. It was your laugh, it was your smile That kept me quiet all the while Trudging every single mile You own my soul, you own my heart I can not bear for us to part Let me help the healing start I am a human, I am a girl And mistakes come about and whirl Causing rivers of silver pearls You do not believe, you do not trust This healing process is a must The reliance will rise up from the dust It will take long, it will take time And many, many clocks will chime Until our love's back in it's prime I love you now, I love you forever Please let us spend it all together I want to part not now, not ever.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Less 'Talk' More 'Milk'

  After the interview; 
Each rider and horse, 
move it off, all too quickly.
My head how it spins, around it.
As it works each day, with such beautiful hands.
None known here, can refuse it. 
Here in this factory, they own it.
It are they, as they hang down, each cloud 
and dawn like dew, each tip, now dripps with it.
What has it done.
What should it do.
Roles reversed, would you.
i look they say, like it.
I frown they laugh and i smile at it.
Upside down, they are all I see, and it's full with it.
They all watch it, as none can slip by it.
Explaining and swirling about, as it utters. 
Looking at it, most like they, start to work.
One says it's simple mechanical, it's poetry.
Fore their arms are off and their aft of it. 
All just because, they make cream from it.
Factory chatter is loud and the clamor it grows 
as each machine moves, 
up and down, outside all around it.
The bottles once clear, are warm when they're filled, 
and the milk comes out, quickly through it.
They try Calming it down, as too many hang 
and around it, are those hands that confess it.
Each cow, you now know, has it's very own name, 
and as Betsy stands there, don't confuse it 

Is It Poetry 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Distant Warrior

I get this wondrous chill as night falls
in mountains or desert sand
and I find myself dreaming about
home, my fondest memory
from this far away land.

I miss the special lady who 
stole my heart, my thoughts
and all there is of me;
and I deeply cherish 
our final moments together.

I think about the children 
I left behind, how I miss them 
and pray they’re  fine -
and it’s hard Lord,
it’s so very hard.

It’s times like this that I wonder
why I volunteered and I
get this knot in my stomach -
then I cringe and find myself 
trying to hold back tears.

Soon the battle will begin
when I’ll hear my own heartbeat
through the creepy sounds 
amidst treacherous mountain sides or
drifting sands and whirling winds.

It’s  time spent in worry,
fear, and some regret
as I encounter my fate
in the war so near
and I must admit, I’m scared.

This stench of war, 
the sight of it all,
it’s that awful image
of how I imagined hell
after Lucifer’s fall.

I wonder to myself,
“Does it have to be
that generations of people 
can’t seem to agree 
to the simple concept of peace?”

Soldiers don’t start wars
but they surely fight them,
making all manner of sacrifice
and I doubt that even once
did a soldier ever like them.”

Then I think of  “Old Glory”
and I’m filled with pride.
It’s a warm patriotic feeling
which overcomes me
from deep down inside.

I’m confused, scared
and battle weary.
I worry about those I love
as I cling to my faith  
and pray to God above.

I’m a distant warrior,
an American fighting man;
not an aspiring hero,
but just a simple soldier 
trying to do the best that I can.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Education is Power

Who is in charge of our children's education?
What happens when parents don't do their job?
When children have no sense of reading, writing,
till they hit that school room head on?

Who is responsible to initiate, ingratiate, the word,
so language is understood from infancy and
not suddenly at five years old when
communication receives the attention it deserves?

Parents stand up and take notice
schools do not provide the only source
You are your child's first teacher
You are the one who gives him voice.

From you he will learn expression
From you he will learn who he is
From you he will learn his roots
Give him your love and attention.

Provide an environment filled with books
A place where reading takes precedence
Instill in him a joy for learning
With gentle hand and loving looks.

Model the love of learning
read on your own or with
till without even knowing
he'll develop a yearning
to know, to explore, to evaluate
all there is and more.

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Specifically Speaking 
These words 
Portray the 
Exact moment 
When matter
Forming evolution 
Nothingness transformed 
Into something 
She clings to me 
Words unspoken 
what's known 
Forget me nots
followed by 
Don't cries 
don't let go 
after all this,
we learned to omit 
words that
don’t matter
on a plethora
of possibilities
Notably, quite honestly 
I surmise, 
We may very well be,
and then again, 
perhaps we already were 
even before the world 
was formed 
Primordial substance 
No hesitation
going back and
searching out every 
molecule of you 
joining a new
when formed by the one
who was always
meant to be. 
Specifically speaking 
of Course

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Together We Stand

In this romantic canvas of love
we are standing side by side
gazing into the skyline of heaven

So softly reminiscing over the 
beautiful memories we have 
cultivated over the years

Our eyes are connected with nature's
inspirational trees of life
admiring the leaves of gentleness,
kindness and the roots of true belief

Together we stand; as the abstract of 
God's sunlight beam immensely upon
our radiant and silky caramel color skin

So, gracefully articulating the portrait
of elegance

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Uncaged Heart

Love tore down carefully built walls
I've been down the road of romance before
blissful at first then strained and unhappy
no energy left for trying 
a caged bird

electric fences slowly rooting from the core 
icy shards sticking through ribs
a caged heart finding wing
let go of all emotions of love
set free at last

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over you am hurt too
this i can say
i love you anyway
hard to carry own
you did me wrong
my love can;t stop
my eyes or like

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Everything is alright my life has 
heal in some area I feel like 
sharing this good ol happiness 
of Gods blessing to bring my 
life off the the cold ground up 
to the air and its warm love 
is harmless and a little bitter 
but my heart has many to give 
anit letting what happened to 
me in the past affected what I 
wan't and gotta have come feel 
the soft new meaning to my 
life of renewing improve not 
foolish move so willing never 
perswaing my mind thinks of 
something real and out of the 
ordinary what you see is what 
you get this extraodinay 
personality that I must say I 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Healing Oneness of Two

“Healing Oneness of Two”

A Symphony of blue
As far as the eye could see
Where water and sky merged
Like two bodies in sacred union
Two hearts destined
In the Lustrous ever engaging face of love
A small word
With giant effect on life
Healing a rugged and scarred heart
Erosion of adversity 
Emotional devastation
Despair and hopelessness
True love’s emerald hills
 In the tranquil valleys
Endearments fulfilment 
Of tantalizing blooms
Crowned by the setting of the sun

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The Direction of Sheets that Kissed His Skin.

I found the break in belief upon the study of honesty...

I knew the subject of smiles and that the left sided curl of a lip decided the direction
of my kiss...

He was...

untouchable, yet I adored the feel of him, and I sat behind mirrors for months pretending
to be Alice as my skirts raced dangerously close to tomorrow, the decoration of my thighs


“This is perfection, you know,” I whispered as the sun fell, and the blankets that covered
him danced silently over his skin as I watched night fall across the shadows of his face,
and I touched...

his smile...

with desperate lips as I tasted happiness and the delicious idea of me.

I curled up for a moment and thought, pondered, I decided I'd watch the direction of his
breath as my vision faded, he slipped his fingers through my hair and I split time in half
as my legs untangled, and we were...


uncountable, the months that forgot themselves, the nights I lost myself in his dreams,
and if that wasn't beautiful then reflections were liars and I slapped dishonesty straight
in the jaw...

before I told him how much I needed him...

before he watched the patterns of my breathing without understanding...

I exhaled for him..

without knowing I loved the way summer sheets touched his skin right before I held him...

right before I knew that forever is untouchable and existence is created with the smile

that settled on his lips

after we kissed.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


   I love by latching on too tightly; I thought I could hold you in the palm of my hand for awhile, the way I used to catch the wind, or tried to, when I was small. Hands hungry and determined, I placed you high up on the candelabra, and did not understand when I found you out of reach. And unable to hold you, or feed you, each little weep-drop of wax was a grain of sand, counting every second to a certain end. 
  But choking fire has its way of leaving chokers burned, and in salvaging my heart and hands, I loved you with my eyes. You never burn to make the room blush, or to sway the sex of lovers. You burn for warmth, to warm and be warmed, and dry the tears and frost and rain from the stricken, in the hopes that one day, someone will ease them from you. Through misery comes compassion, freedom through walls, and you and I are not the only things that crumble. And when I am gone, you will burn; when you are gone, you will burn, and I will be glad not to have been the death of you, so I let you burn.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


The stillness of the moment
that is lost now ago
Never to shine its glimmer,

You shall knock on my door
and hear only your knocking.

Then silence. 

The chimes.

You shall wait
and will not find me there
You shall look everywhere
but I will be hiding.

Then a soft shattering.
Look below.
You shall find my wreckage
under your feet.

I only ask one thing;
stay away,
stay away forever...
Let me seek for you instead.

Just leave my broken pieces
and go.

Touch it not,

just go.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

~ (~) ~ (Four Part-Part#4) Dedicated to My Little Sister ~ Tina Marie Haynes ~ (~) ~

It has been many years and I have had many struggles, and though I was sad when my Sister passed... because I love her, and missed her so. I always knew that it was going to be Ok... because she always moved and was eager to let me know this in the way that she lived her life faithfully, and in this one prominent way... and if you truly have the time, and slow down and are willing to look... You will see the example of my little Sister, and precious, and crazy little Princes. You will see, and come to find it to be this exact way... because God does always have us in His heart and in His mind and is always there offering us this truth... All we have to do, if we truly want to, is have faith, and believe it and then claim it as the truth... Then we will see it... I pray that you will never forget my little Sister, and that animals are the greatest... and that they never forget, just like a human does, being taken care of and accepted, and loved... They can sense this too in another, as they can also sense loss and loneliness and pain, and can actually feel it as much as we can... if not even more, and they bring it back, this care and love and acceptance and hope, in so many ways... and are faithful to it... As I believe that if they have went through a struggle themselves... that they never forget what it is like, and move to always bring another the promise that everything will be Ok... and move to prove this in all of their ways... God love you and your new kitten or animal... I know that it will bring you only love and peace, new hope and joy and add a new brilliance and dimension of faith and the proof of this truth to your life... .

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Love Not Allowed

He had fallen in love when he had first seen her, her dark black hair and green eyes had 
been what had attracted him.

Yes he knew the danger but he had smuggled her out, taken her to his home and he had not 
told a soul what he had done.

She was nineteen and he was fourtythree, he did not see the age difference and only saw 
her beauty, if anyone found out he was hiding her then he knew they would be both killed.

She had lived with him for eight days, in that time he had never tried to seduce her or make 
any advance towards her, he clothed her and provided food and any comfort that she 

On the eigth night she came to his room, she was naked when she slipped into his bed and 
they made love all the way until the dawn, it would be their last night together.

They came the next morning, he knew he had to shoot her, the Luger given to him by his 
father two years ago was the weapon he had to use.

She wept silent tears for she knew what must be done, he put the gun to her head and 
pulled the trigger.

He put the gun to his own head as he heard them break down the door, he knew they would 
have both been punished to death and this was the only way.

They were too late to stop him and he pulled the trigger with the gun at his head and his 
body fell to lay with the dead body of the woman he had loved.

It was not supposed to had happened, a German guard falling in love with a Jewish girl 
condemned to have been gassed to death at the camp.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sharks of Love

Much is said in cultivation,
Shallow words spent with seed.
Empty vows between the sheets,
‘Of course I love you baby.’
Toxic ailments of assurance,
Commitment breeds dependency.
This sepulchre I designed,
Where walls of doubt incessantly shrink.
A tomb which dims with every glance,
Yet limpidly I sit and think.
Prognostication is a ditch,
Living with Cassandra’s Curse,
To view before events unfurl,
These augurs indisputable.
Predictions based on things I’ve done,
Games I’ve often played and won.
O dilemma, consort of quandary,
Why does ambivalence prevail?
A heart divided cannot love,
Ergo romance is doomed to fail.
‘Tis strange to thirst and then to drown,
Dropped within the sultry water.
Petrified I couldn’t swim,
But in the depths I belong.
A Shark of Love once was I,
Domestic nets now thwart my flow.
That I may roam this ocean free,
And hunt the seas I used to know.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

We Are Animals

fighting back instinct for modern civilization

denying truth for some desperate stab

at feeling special; above and beyond

making ourselves jealous


imaginatively punishing others for doing

what we are also doing ourselves

and despite our best efforts

and through all of our confusion

and even for being brutally, fervently


(because it's 'the done thing')

human x is to human y

as sperm is to egg

we are animals



Details | Prose Poetry | |

No Walls

No Walls
She ask's me this in the voice that I've come to adore so much
"Look into the deepest part of your soul and tell me what she says"
I respond to my lover in a deep and sensual voice for her only 
"She tells me that my life became more complete than I believed it could 
ever be the moment I met you my love"
A realization came upon me then, I truly love this life I live
We all take so much for granted and still much we have to give
Without a doubt I've found my other, and she's my better half
A broad spectrum of emotion I feel with her, from a smile she gives me
to the laugh from my heart
The timing seems perfect, my rough edges and shortness she has soothed
them all away
Another just and shining miracle in her love I see, and I pray that it shall 
remain forever.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I'm In Love with a White Girl

I'm in love with a white girl because she's beautiful. I'm in love with a white girl
because she's sweet, kind, and I  love her. A white girl's love and beauty are so strong
and powerful, it makes me want more of them. She's the sun that shines by day, the moon
and the stars that appear at night, and my everything. I see myself getting married to a
real white girl and I also see her as the mother of my children. I want us to be more than
just friends; I want us to be together forever. When I get into a serious relationship
with this white girl, I won't run away; I'll be as kind, sweet, trustworthy, and nicer as
any other guy. And when I get into a relationship with this girl, things will never be the
same. And not only will I promise not to ever cheat on my white/Caucasian girlfriend with
any other girl, even if she's as attractive as any other girl, I promise not to ever hurt her, let alone
break her heart, either. There's more to life than just talking to white girls; It's being
with one.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


She makes… rainbows sprout from her fingertips with every touch of my corpses flesh, her angelic
 presence, bringing sunshine to my cheek with lips unshaded, her kisses, were full of sun beamed 
pleasures and, all I could do was steal them, steal love from the heart of one whom I felt, I’d never be 
deserving of. Introducing life to the hands of one broken, tattered by his past and scared of the déjà 
vu. Only hoping that she, could wipe the waterfalls from his grassy planed face. When she did so much 
more with just a stare, she, penetrated his mind and made him fall so… so peaceful like. With truth only 
found in the way her hands serenaded his cheeks as her lips marinated his and we fade… into 
teardrops in the ocean, knowing I’d drown forever for a kiss on my corpse cheek just to know… that 
you’ll always love me and never hurt me… not like the others did. Fear is the death of bravery, but I’d 
soon go toe to toe with the rights to your eternity to prove that, we were made for each other. 
Carrying the cross for my own crucifixion if it’d show how much I love her. &you could pierce my body 
and all I’d bleed is the reasons I love her, then die and be reborn on the 23rd hour to prove that… I 
could never go a day without her. So I ask you, what else do I have to prove?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Refrigerator Love

Refrigerator Love (Poem)
God, I don't really know why You made the breadth of Your Son's arms stretch far enough apart to allow your living breath inside of dying lungs like mine. My sin is the tree cut down and shaped into the crucifix. For years, I took the blood of Your Son and smeared it over the wood, trying to splinter the genes from Your hands from ever matching mine. 
So why are you still molding me in Your image? I've always been attracted to the wrong people, places and things like a noun with bad grammar, but You spell I love you all over my surface like refrigerator magnets until it sticks. I've been outdated since the day I was born, and the 90's left my life so fast I swear they ran to the 21st century outlet to pick up a better model of me. My insides have grown freezer frigid over the years, but You've kept my heart preserved. I've left a few more spoiled memories on my shelves longer than I would've liked. Back then, I just loved the look of them still alive in me so much that I never learned to let go when I thought my life was still in one piece. Compost my past like the gardener You are. I'm on my knees begging to You to plant and harvest seeds in Your fields that will grow into fruits without expiration dates. Father, Your food is eternal because Your love is everlasting. Reverse me like a walking tomb, and let me be the body for Your Spirit to live in.
Tend to my inside circuits, and help me be a bright, electrical vessel,
Continually kept running through the night so others can see You too.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dancing In Your Arms

We danced as the sun was rising
In the far off Eastern sky
We danced until the moon beams
Reflected in your eyes

We danced with our bodies touching
Sparking passion through our veins
Such a mystical, magical moment
Like the quiet when it rains

It seemed like we were floating
On billowing clouds of white
Passion kept on burning
Through the day and through the night

No storm could we not weather
With the love that we did share
We found comfort in just knowing
Each other would be there

It's wonderful to be dancing
In the arms of the one you love
Dancing in the sunshine
Or when it's raining from above

This dance of ours will be
Forever in our hearts
In your arms is where I'll stay
Everytime the music starts

Details | Prose Poetry | |

O' Darkest Night

“O my love, my wife!  Death, that hath suck’d the honey 
of thy breath,  hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.”  

Last we kissed, where summer’s lease hath too short a date,
and winter’s chill laid a breath upon thy face,
hath stell’d thy brightest smile.
Sweet coral days frail blight to rust, and now mine empty hands,
to wring despair from what will never be.
O, behold my eyes that weep, and empty arms that flail
So blind I am! I cannot fly on broken wings! 
No other love could ever grieve so well. 
Shall hence, I now exist an empty shell?
O’ she of flaxen hair, fair cheeks so pale,
My love is as a fever, longing still.   To never be again?
My sorrow greater than the darkest night.
Disquiet of my heart cries out beyond the distant stars.
O' fate thy has forsaken, canst thou, O' cruel!
Sweet love so rare, a thing beyond compare. 
Where whence my love, once like the lilac full
The blossom fragrant, o' so sweet as whippoorwill
Ere' slumber's chain has bound me.
Weary I am with pain, I haste me to my bed
Where dreams will keep us never parted
Linked to thee forever, I will ever be upon my death
With day, by sun awakened, again I must recall
Thy song has waned, the garland dead
Whence dost return new storms, again to bring mine tears
Yea, gentle are mine dreams where thee appears. 
Linked to thee forever, I will ever be, 
upon the blade, upon the sword, asleep
My swollen heart with anguish weeps…forever is my love to keep.

For The Contest : Romeo and tragic is love
Sponsored by *A Wandering Butterfly*

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dreamy Love

I went swimming in the Notwane River,
And took a plunge on the cool waters
Resurfacing only to take a deep breath,
And feel the cool air above
Then, BOOM! I saw you!

Your face, the radiance of mankind
That killed my breathing, paralyzing my heart
The beating of my heart, so faint
As to be almost imperceptible
Everything swam before my eyes!

When I saw you, and saw love,
And envisioned the joys of the world
That we’d have together
If we give love a chance to lead us
Onto the day of our union…d

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love in a time of riots

I met you outside a ransacked footlocker
Your fingers touched mine, entwined 
As we pushed a Tesco’s trolley
Through the window 

Shards of broken glass fell upon your shoulders
And into your hoodie
Like glistening amethysts
Flecked in their reflected hearts
With the blood orange glint
Of burning shops and perfect hatred

I bent down 
And offered  you
A single perfect red trainer
Its lace a thorned stem

We were alone on the planet in that moment
Our faces obscure behind football scarves 
But our sated purpose eloquently screamed from our eyes – destruction obtuse and divine 

If I had never known a love
Or known what a life with love can be
I knew it then as we were dragged away together  by our hair 
And smashed 
By special constables 
And smashed

Our landscape is empty, and we share it bitterly
But  the strength of the convictions you gift us 
Has led us to this demonstration of how powerfully 
And how singularly 
We love each other

And detest


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Pitter Patter

Woke up this morning to the pitter patter of raindrops
Thought it was your heart beating next to mine
But alas, it was only the raindrops beating on my window sill
That had given me false hope of your presence
When I reached out you weren't there

So sad ..So sad ..So sad 

Pitter patter …Pitter patter…Pitter patter …………

Details | Prose Poetry | |


My heart stop sometimes and then it skips beats what is it 
telling me???

That my life is short and if I don't get you back it will stop 

Come back to me and heal this froze heart of mine take me 
into your arms
and embraces me with this pain 

Give me that nice and understanding part of you bring the 
sun into my darkness of love that I have because 

of you life couldn't be better without use together so open 
up them windows and let the sun shine in

Renew our friendship to inreplaceable pull together the 
strength of love and forever keep use hole

Details | Prose Poetry | |

you are for real

You risk your life for me
You sacrifice your all
You push many aside for my sake
When there was no truth in me
You believe in me
Today I am so attached to you
For you are for real 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Moments to Reflect Forgotten Valentine

 Moments to Reflect 2/5/2013
                                              The forgotten Valentine
The Lord is my shepherd and the keeper of my hope and dreams. I hold Him close to my heart so that we are never far apart. The love of my life and in this I take delight. His light will always be seen in me in all things that I do. The way I walk even when I talk. For it is not what inside of you that defiles you, it’s what comes out. 
My trust in the Lord is sight unseen and it is my faith that keeps me clean. My problems may be many but there is no need to worry; because my belief is just too strong. Can’t you see that in Jesus, you will not go wrong? Your love is so pure and clean it gives life new meaning; Rose are red, reminds me of the blood you did shed and violets are blue there no truer love than you. There a song in my soul that sends my spirit high and I will praise Jesus until the day that I die; in doing this I know that I will be by His side. Keep in mind of what Jesus divine nature is not all mine and it not hard to find. It’s the gift that the Father has given to all of mankind.
Now I tell you about a Child that was born in glory, salvation was the pearl that was bought into this world and this is His story. To the poor and the despaired He gave hope and healing, with His power reveling. Love and praise the people did give. All that He wanted was for us to stop sinning. To you I give a thousand roses and a million kisses for you are a truly my blessing. The dead He did raise, and life He gave. Those that were in power never did they honor; but instead they fear the One who was foretold as the prophecy before their eyes was unfolded. Crime they cry and this was the lie that sentences our savior on earth to die. A thousands tears is not enough I fear; so in my heart I will hold you dear.
From the Heaven to the earth He came to teach us a way, from the earth to the cross, a debt He paid, from the cross to the graves, from the grave to the sky He ascended home to His throne. There He sits waiting for those that he paid that prices so that we might have life and have it more abundantly. Having faith and trust in the Christ you will find an everlasting life free from suffering in a paradise. You will always be my Valentine love.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Easel Tower

With closed eyes I lay back naked to surroundings and noise, escape. Pencil inside 
the soft grip a slide show of mind displays beauty, I see each mole, scar, shine and 
blemish as though touchable live flesh. Knowing the lids of my eyes and mind as the 
creator and opening my eyes will erase the art. I choose to sit in darkness.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

When Love comes smiling

When Love comes smiling,
with orange wing-tip butterflies
and red red roses for curls,
she will come and lay her sweet hand
gently on my face, as my heart warms
the glaciers of my soul,
as my feet turn to angel's wings 
and I fly with Love.

Oh Love is grand,
and oh Love is kind;
she smiles at me,
with orange wing-tip butterflies
and red red roses for curls,
oh her beauty it restrains me from reality;
oh my dear Love come to me,
show me,
love me,
oh my Love comes smiling,
with the sun on her side
and the moon at her feet,
with orange wing-tip butterflies fluttering away;
she will smile and lay her gentle hand on me
and sing me a song,
oh yes my dear Love;
I shall sing to you as well a song of good hope
and charm.


Details | Prose Poetry | |



We only fear because we are afraid of what the truth might be. We love only when we know the truth is love and there is nothing to fear....


Lawrence Schrank

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Time Was Not On Our Side

Here I am thinking again about how our life should of been

But it's to late cause you are gone the love we shared can't go on

Wishing we had more time before the clocks started to wined

Time has stopped since you went away I really wished you could of stayed

You have moved on far away but my love for you has never changed

When I die someday soon we will meet again pass the moon

Far away in an unclouded sky we will never say goodbye

As I look back on our life I realize time was not on our side.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |


When you left us
The window was open
There was a single star in the sky
Wind was breathless
A sudden cry ripped the darkness

That night was a book’s last page
Frayed by time and solitude
A lamp was burning in the corner
To thicken the whispers of coming souls
We were speechless 
Touching my mother’s feet
Lean and wilted 
By thousand years ‘march.

September, the cruelest
You did not know the weight of pain
One’s heart endeared 
And cried in a land
Islanded by silence.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

We'll make love like it's our last

Her touch has rendered me weak. 
I've lost the strength to speak 
And to fight the feeling. 
I lost control. 
My nails swept her cheek 
While she stayed there, kneeling. 
Her smile started to hum 
While my heart began to drum 
To the beat of her swaying. 
At last I'm whole. 
We couldn't keep from 
Each other, now we're laying 
And watching the sun lose size 
Hand in hand with closed eyes. 
The sun remains yonder. 
Our bodies' heat 
Continues to rise 
As we let our hands wander. 
Necking in the flowers, 
Minutes feel like hours 
But time's still flying too fast. 
We're both complete. 
This night is ours. 
And we'll make love like it's our last.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Two Minutes Too Late and the Clock Struck June.

We fell, two miles too far down to count the days ahead...

Two hours too late for me to forgive myself, I kissed him in the morning when the clock


and tears covered me in a bath of fear...

I asked him if he knew, if he understood, as he mumbled and held me in his sleep.

Two days passed and I watched the sunset, I found it far



to breathe.

I wondered, as I circled, as I watched him in memories, as I watched his face glow and fade...

I wondered where the comfort of January ran...

I wondered if he swallowed it as I brushed my tongue across his open mouth when he
whispered the promises I knew, even then, 

he wouldn't keep.

And hope was funny, she stayed by my side for two months plus three, I found myself waking
up in May, amidst the lilacs and unusual heat, I wanted to close my eyes and let my lashes
fall down as they tickled tomorrow so maybe..

he'd see...

but obsessions are addictions and he had an affiliation with the color blue.

“I love you,” I told him, with eyes wide open when the clock struck two...but I was three
months too late and my heart
held onto January
for the fear
of sight

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Loss of Appetite

The world shifted a bit when I walked inside,

my resolution blind to the choke of memory.

It wasn't even you, just your little sister..

I still wanted to turn around, and walk right 

back out of the restaurant. Go home.

**** lunch. Hungry for solitude, I fumbled

with the menu and meditated on the restless

scabs of a beer battered soul.

My father watched my jaw clench

and squinted. Mumbled his query,

but didn't push it. I couldn't speak,

bloody tidal waves surging toward

my eyelids, blurred the menu.

Brinzano? Sea Bass with a 

Chipotle sauce on a bed of rice.

Unsure of my palate, my tongue 

slowly shoveled the words out

and I ordered despite my appetite 

for closure. We locked eyes for a

moment, and she smiled. 

I nodded. Stroked my beard,

and looked toward the truck.


It was probably rude.

A bit pathetic.

It wasn't even you, just your sister.

But a relative of a butcher,

still sometimes smells of blood.

The food, flavorless in the mouth

of bitter reflection wasted.

The wait for the check, ticked

slowly across my spine

and I wondered if you ever 

saw the flesh of my posture

in a crowd; If it stood out?

Made you hungry?

Or if you have forgotten,

the way I've been trying to

for so long.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The long time pain washed away

It’s now washed away
My heart now breaths calm like the Lake Malawi
 As my instincts told me to calm down
She now comforts me better than before

I know she was meant for me
But I am too weak to prove it to her
I guess she now knows about that
I hope her decision is final but my mine on her it is

I love her but she caused me a heart break
But I don’t back down that’s why I am back now
In trouble I move and in love I flirt
You came back corrected the mistakes you made

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Blind Found Love

I could be mistaken,
But I believe my heart been so graciously taken
Taken by a girl
But not just any girl
A girl whom I know is the one
The one who gives me feelings,
Feelings I have never known before
Before her, I was blind
Blind to Love
For this blindness has now vanished
I can see and feel love 
She is my Love

Details | Prose Poetry | |

That You Love Me Still

There is much to be said for mature love
Comfortable love, secure love.
Knowing with one look at your face; your mood.
The conversations we have with only our eyes.
Ah, yes, My Love, some may yearn for the chase, the newness,
But not I.
I long only for your arms; to hear your heartbeat under my ear.
There is no shyness between us, no secrets.
You know my hearts greatest fears and hopes and I yours.
I know the real you, the one I love.
And you love me even with all my quirks and demands.
And that is what amazes me,
That you love me still.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fading of Salvador Dali When Wednesday Rose Too Late.

I regarded us on Tuesday, after finding Monet in the closet, and thought our lives
resembled institutions, I thought I'd tack that painting right above the fireplace, I
imagined we'd laugh...

He took ten minutes to figure it out, he took fifteen to tell me, he took three minutes
more to kiss my lips and I told him he was seven minutes late, so he glanced to the clock
that raced tomorrow above my head and told me that late was better than never as he
grabbed tomorrow right out of my hair...

This tangled me, you see, and I gasped for air as my thighs fell apart, it seemed to be
distinctly him as he swirled into me, and I lost the definition of myself shortly after
Wednesday rose, and we smeared Van Gogh all over the walls as my screams became edible and
he licked his lips as I sighed his name, he removed the fabric that kept me warm, he wrote
forever with his tongue and I thought, better forever than gone, right before I dissolved
into nowhere....

I think my hand prints were distorted and I searched his chest for some resemblance of
sanity, but I only found myself in the swirls of moonlight that ventured in through the
window we tried to block...

he had told me of blankets years ago and I wished they would cover me when December came,
but I haven't seen December yet though I've watched snow fall and settle on his eyelashes,
I've studied the melting of time when he blinks...

“You have the most beautiful eyes in the world,” I informed him, minutes after the night
solidified herself and I realized we were tired.

“No, I don't,” he replied, in a tone that sunk beneath Tuesday, and offered me the calm of

“You do,” he whispered, and I could hear that smile and the echoes of his eyes closing, I
could hear myself enter his dreams as I watched my hair flow abstractly through the weeks
he remembered, and sometime before I fell asleep, thinking about St. Petersburg when the
visions that dance underneath my eyelids resemble the imagination of Salvador Dali, he
told me he loved me...

right on time.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


As he began to kiss her, she stood in awe with the most pearly poise, mirroring the petals of a primrose that danced with an evening zephyr she once loved. Her cheeks reddened like the rose as she tasted his lips and her smile glistened with a sparkling lustre. She closed her eyes once again and approached his mouth with the most sightly smile.
As they kissed, she began to recite his poem in her heart and continued it's melody but for all eternity:

"Caressing cue in sky-lit blue 
In eternal dreams I long for you 
Dancing dew's red poured petal
Glancing pew as pollens soared settle"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love see me

Love I know you can see me,
you can see the heart I have
and how big it is;

Love I know you can see me,
you can hear me,
and you can find the sorrow,
which is deep in my heart;
so why can't you find me?
Why can't you fly your way
through the twilight skies
and warm me up on a cold winter night
with a loving kiss and a warm embrace?
Why can't you find me?
But at least I know you see me,
and I'd like to think that one day,
on a spring day in May
you shall find your way and tell me
what was meant to be heard.


Details | Prose Poetry | |


 FAITH is a shield that covers a man from head to toe. True faith surpasses dead works. And now to this title poem. Ed. Note. There is GOD and his SON and his SPIRIT they aer three separated and distinct images and yet they aer one persona one giant mega person perhaps with three faces. No one has yet completely deciphered his image iff an artiste was to create to paint GOD eye suppose it could look something like an Ancient of Days upon a Throne not once but thrice with the same face three times the image of the SON being the predominate one. The first image an old ancient man. The second one is harder a Scepter in his hand of Righteousness a crown of Diadems jewelry that cannot be likened to money or material wealth but as a sign and symbol of his Authority. Jesus has a Crown for he is Ruler of this universe. The third image; that one of the Spirit, is yet harder to discern the same Jesus face in a burning glowing place. A Glow of Flame a Fire; however, made of warmth and love.
A SPIRIT made of GOD. He broke the Horn off Satan forehead gave the world back to the Flock. Gentle reader ewe just stop. Stop strife worry remember what a PRICE was paid for love and go back to the cross for there we pray. Yes we build all our deeds the love upon the Death, not counting all the cost our possessions all our love our very lives depend on Christ our King. A living GOD a loving Spirit a wonderful Father who gives more than mere health and wealthy love neither constrained or with any guile or predetermined Schism of the flesh just unconditional love without end lasting forever nothing ever is needed again love. Eye am reminded of the many infirmities of flesh the frailties of a man the Schism of his Grace as eye sit ici with this pen discovering all the needless hashing of old wounds fumbling at the hands and scars the wounds eye sometimes get as certain they aer thine not self inflicted or just mine. Schism is a wrent a tear in time the body dies the flesh in grave the light for all to see apparently asleep yet Schism thrives for eye have seen the Temple of the Lord a Saint a Lady in death’s place repose aware of nothing now her Spirit gone to Lord somehow twas more than beautiful to me no longing brought forth from Schism’s door a token portent of myself at play upon the earthly plain of dust the Grace upon her face the Peace mere word cannot her Journey over now convey, her Judgment come and gone and Heaven won all in a single word born. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Come. GOD. The maker of the Schisms all and one.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

An Honest Fate Part 1

""He-cried-smiled-and-breathed-his-first-breath, my heart-soared - he-could have- died there - God-is a good-God I-say. Love found me again-soon there-after as I cried holding him and her holding our picture. "A brilliant love we had then the crash - in our-white pinto - in our old wet snow-boots." ""I want a sucker." "No!" "Please?" "Daddy?" "No... !" "Please-Daddy?" "No!" "Please... ?" "Okay... !" "I caved!" - "My foot-slipped kept-slipping off the-break... !" - "Sure you can have it sweetheart I'll get it I said." "Mama she yelled... !" - "I was always giving in to him - we were all going fishing."" "Curious her look then-it-reminded me of the-bright-red catchup-on-her chin and-sweater-when I first met her-that one time, vivid. "Looks luscious I-smiled." "She-laughed - tugged on my coat - drew me in and kissed-me." To reminisce is enlightening some friends of mine and hers we- were all having burgers." "Love is a wondrous thing, funny-sometimes... like-back then but I find it none too funny given the heartbreak now. Jamie-took to-her fine and her-him, and I've cried ever since... . I have never-been so happy." "Love it comes and it goes-but oh to share it-with gusto... . Fond are these memories-running- parallel-with the truth - but to have loved, just once - though I-could want it again, Grace tells me not to worry - Her goodness-is with me-on-this journey - because-my-faith-is-hopeful and- honest-and so-is-fate... ." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I invite you to read: as well investigate as to why I ask you of this, "please":. I am so honored you have stopped by friend you have blessed me-yes - I wish as well to bless you. ~ Love ~ James ~ (or if you will) ~ e v e r y o n e 1 ~

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I have a night for you
With candle blue 
And a piece of moon 
The room is clean 
Everything smell like sweet kisses 
Like always 
Like all ways 
Don’t miss it babe
It is our dream anniversary 

I have a night for you 
With long touch 
And shadow smile 
I will please you
A million pleases 
Ice scream 
Hmm… Gotcha babe 
Turn off the light 
Turn on your senses 
Be in the mood
Take photos  
Build a song 
Feel it?
We’ve made it
Oh! God don’t want it to be over.

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it dosen't come with age,its in a cage trapped inside dont let it out your mouth without a doubt 
it will destroy us all,if we fall for rages tricks, envy, jealousy,anger love is the answer to keeping 
rage locked up , i know i let it out it tried to destroy me, but ive been set free love saved me

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace

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What the heck

Admittance of Your Guilt
You did this and you did that
Having to explain my every move
With time difference so huge
Felt like a criminal 
Nothing I said, you believed
What is the use of this?
A relationship so blessed
I felt like a spring flower

I guess winter came and turned it all sour
Because of my misunderstanding
My apology you did not accept
Because I questioned your integrity and honour
I’m not one to grovel I have self respect
So I asked someone for the terminology 
Of my misunderstanding
Instead of accepting and explaining
You seek an argument 
It was going nowhere
So I begged you to leave me alone

Is it a man thing?
You do not like confrontation
Shaking and crying at my desk
While you believe not a word I’ve said 
I was once madly in love with you
Fought battles you know not,
To be with you 
My family finally accept us
A little to late

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Cherry Blossom

Delicate buds open to the suns touch,
warmth and light herald the Spring
The beauty of nature unfolds around Us.
Walking across the carpet of Cherry Blossom
Soft scents and a gentle touch
I feel spent blossom on my face and you,
in your hair
Petals sit atop of your head
A crown I say,
you smile, 
A King yet to Find.
We part, neither needs to Cry,
as we both know, 
the Samurai say,
today is a good day to die

Details | Prose Poetry | |

There Was something

There was something in her eyes
That said to me
That what she was listening to
Couldn’t be heard
And the words being spoken
Couldn’t be said
There was something in the way
She held her head
That said to me
She really wasn’t where
She appeared to be
So I quietly whispered
Would you care to take a walk
She didn’t question why
Just quickly answered yes
Held out her hand to take
And I never said a thing
We walked through the night
Just listening to the stars
We felt the warmth of passion
Against the chill of night
And never spoke a word
For eyes, arms and lips
Say so much more
When the sun broke upon the day
The grass told where we lay
As time and years went by
I saw her eyes again
They were so much younger
As they reflected back my smile
There was nothing much to say
In the way she held her head
I just remembered how in the sun
The grass showed where we lay

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Know Very Little

I know very little.
I don't know a lot. Too be exact, I know very little. Sure, I understand math, science, and all the other basics. I may be able to read the Twilight series in 3 days. I may be able to write poetry, short stories, and essays. But I know very little. I don't know why stars exist. I don't know how to cook a pancake. I don't know what the atomic numbers are to the elements on a periodic table. I don't know when the world ends. I don't know how many thoughts I have in my head. And all of this is just the beginning.
 I know how to smile, but not how I do it. I know there is a God, but I don't know how long he has existed. I know I love dinosaurs, but I don't know how they turned into turtles or an armidillo. I know I bleed, but I don't know what blood is made of. I know that I'm supposed to wish on a star, but I don't know why I wish to the moon instead. I don't know why I blow a kiss to it afterwards. I know why it rains, but I don't know if it is just water or angel tears. I know when it rains I'm supposed to hide, but I don't know why I stand in it. I don't know why I believe if a raindrop lands on your lips, it means that someone wishes to kiss you. I don't know why I have no enemies. I don't know why all my problems disappear when I'm in his arms, but I know I love him for than I have loved anyone or anything.
 But there is one thing I'm fully sure about. Without a doubt, and that is.......I know very little.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



I have come back to the place where I fell in love again
Fell in love with life, 
Learned of love again.

I  listened once again to the call to prayer, to the sounds of the sea.
To my heart. and remembered you.
And I knew that I had been given a gift
That would be with me forever.

And so I travelled away again
To an island, not far, yet another land
And here with a heart now open,
I loved again
And loved you again
For the time we had,
For the time, when everything was possible.

And so it was.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


My Love
Can you see me?
Can you see me?
Standing in front of you
My heart beating the rhythmic symphony as yours
Eyes dancing
Watching you
Captivated by you
Body pulsating 
Perspiring as you walk towards me
My Love
My Love
I Love You
You see me
Me For Me
The Real Me
The Inner Soul Me
Spirit Filled Me
My Love 
I See You 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Don't Give A Damn About Your Hair

It is a pretty morning.
Sun is breaking through.
Moon is setting in the west
My mind begins to think of you.
I'm sipping on my coffee
Would you like a cup?
We can watch the sunrise
Before our dogs wake up.
Let me hold your hand
Look into your in eyes.
Say how much I love you
As the sun brightens up the sky.
Your reflection upon a moonbeam
Is something to behold.
But with a ray of sunshine
Your true beauty does unfold.
Your smile is still enticing
Though your hair is still a mess.
Your eyes still have a twinkle
I think now you look the best.
I love you cause your beautiful.
I love you for you care.
I love it when you miss me.
I love it what we share.
Your heart is such a warm place.
I'm so glad that I am there. 
The way that you make love to me
I don't give a damn about your hair!!!

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I closed my mouth around the words,

felt my skeletons wash up against

the shore of a silver tongue;


laying still on the bank,

charred and cracking open

inside the swallow of shameful 


“I never wanted it to be like this,

             never thought it would go

                                         …this far" 

I watched your finger list its way 

around an empty highball glass,

its fragility reminding us both of 

the damage of throwing stones

in a house ready to shatter. 

I couldn’t look you in the eyes. 

              Couldn’t let you see

the poison forcing its way out. 

No matter, how badly I needed 

to feel anchored.

I was better off;

left to drown,

than to pull you under

the waves birthed by 

my lack of transparency. 

"I never wanted it to be like this, 

            never wanted to bring you down.” 

I couldn’t look you in the eyes;

 as the light shined through

the gleaming vessel wrenched

in your palms,

I ordered another round,

Unable to stand the spectrum 

cast, the colors of truth,

with nothing to hide.

So, I finished my beer.

Tasted the backwash cast back,

from every selfish, thoughtless

draft, and forced it down. 

The amber tint of the bottle 

reflected nothing;

As volatile and opaque as

the soul clinging to it. 

"I have to go, 

                      I’m sorry.” 

I left the money on the bar,

hoping it was enough to sate 

our demons for the night. 

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ninth Fable

 Ninth Fable 
Ninth Fable 
Tragic Love 
Internet Love 
The Love eye have for ewe is just the same as iff we wed. 
The feelings that she gives me are never filled with dread. 
But nothing she can dew would make me ever want to wind up dead but the 
living do the love they do the life time instead. Eye could walk the halls of memory 
and get depressed or eye could become a nun in convicted pleasure and rest in 
convent until death can dew us part death can give me rest but what of love. How 
can a man get so excited at a little green dot a few mouse clicks and then a cold 
white chat box. The ink is never wet upon mye crinkle paper yet there it is its love. 
When she smiles at me eye smile when she frowns eye weep a river of the 
stuffins kept inside it all comes flowing out to make a wrongful death seem 
somehow write the words upon the mended heart depart from worry and from 
woe and take the brand new start and soon it all works for love. Snow White she 
ate the apple and then fell to fast asleep but Charlax came to kiss her and 
awakened her to live. Prince Charlax kisses good. 
Live upon the creek bank fishing for dragonflies in a house of love. Mending heart 
of Charming. Making love in heart. Mye snow white turtle love my pookie 
pochoucntous love my internet thrall. We can have it all just hold on to my 
namme and love. 
Researchers have now proven that love can mend a broken heart. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Silver Key

The Silver Key
I see in the path of me, a key- this key I can reach I notice has no current owner in which is just like a useless key without any purpose. It’s not even a key to my broken heart to put the parts where it should be. Even the key could be changed to serve some good, but still in my path I also notice I’m currently like the key- useless to any purpose in which this broken heart of mine wouldn’t be able to piece the parts of my life where it should be. Also, like the key all alone in which waiting for someone to make use of it until then I am me and it’s just this silver key. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The dying in belonging

Kisses on the broken ground
tears that annoy...
bringing the inward heat outward into the busted scene

Innocent eyes become possessive eyes now they look down on you
...upon you

I don't feel anything towards this sort of thing
The cold is a safe retreat from all of the needing

Shut me away
away from your gaze
away from your hands
away from your wet
away from your words
away from your feelings

It's all well, but it well never be my problem

Is it true what they say in my silence?
...that romantics die once they've met romance?

Belonging to nothing
fade, fade like the sun on the overcast heart

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Every night, we take the moon home. 
Split it in half,
and tuck it away beneath our ribs
for safe keeping. I always wince,
because of bruises that never 
heal but her smile kills that pain,
and when we get home
we get to dance under the same
light that led us to each other,
fashioning our love to the 
ceiling above, so it’s shine
can light the only world that
matters to us anymore. 
When we get home,
the rest goes dark,
and Earth’s rotation
adapts, forced to synchronize
with the steps of our feet
across the only real living room.
She says she’ll give it back 
when I decide the pain is
no longer worth walks in the
shade of rain.
t  e a s 
             ing   me with 
the zap of lightning’s charm.
But you see, 
this burdened cage of love’s misery
is a metronome’s swing to the 
beat of infinity. 
And so I press play on the 
heart of this, my favorite song
and once again, hold out my 
hand..and wait for her to
take my pain away.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ashes in the Sky

Searching through the ashes
Of the memory of my past.
I found a dying ember
Of a love I hoped would last.
Tried to make it glow again,
But no matter how I tried
It kept on  getting colder
Till it finally died.

Now as I sift through
These ashes cold and gray
My mind starts to ponder
As to what I want to say

There once was a raging fire
Inside our bodies it did burn
Thought it would burn for ever
But now a lesson we did learn

Our passion that we had
Flowed both day and night
But there were some problems
That were  hidden out of sight

Life styles that were different
Thought we could handle some 
But when they raised their head
Just to many too overcome

So now the wind is blowing 
Those ashes in the sky
Both of us now realize
That it's time to say goodby .

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The River

Beginning high in the mountains the steep slopes give power to the raging river.
It is an unstoppable force descending down, influenced only by the pull of gravity.
The power to cut granite, impulsive in its course, persistence is its virtue.
Momentum gains, turbulence are many, and the excitement is abundant in the beginning.
Over the gently sloping plain the pace of the river becomes less urgent.
Still guided by an invisible, immovable force, it is settling in for a wonderful journey.
A more whimsical course, sufficient influence to cut the earth, determined to move forward.
Slow and steady the new mantra, occasional patches of rapids reminisce the exhilaration of youth.
Onward the expedition continues without concern for the destination.
It relents to the forces that act upon it indifferent to their root.
The river moves with power, fanciful in nature, enduring all encounters.
Such is the story of the river and the story of our love.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

the World is Full of Critics

the world is full of critics: both the Young who scoff at love, and the Old who ridicule desire.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



 "Verloren in meiner Einzelhaft
 vor dem Alleinsein in dieser Schlacht
 Wartens und Hoffens, dass jemand kommen und mich retten
 und diese Einsamkeit werden nie driften mich zurück in die Tiefsee.

 Wahre Liebe Ich habe in einer Lebenszeit gewartet
 hat direkt vor mir kommen unerwartet
 aber meine Ängste und Zweifel von Ihrem kommenden
 hatte mich zu erreichen, um Sie immer noch bei Unsicherheiten behaftet.

 Nun, da Sie in meiner Reichweite sind
 Mein Leben war noch nie so komplett
 Nur du und ich sind alle da ist
 Nichts anderes, nur du und ich.

 Verunsichert Ihrer Liebe für mich
 Manchmal frage ich mich, was Sie wirklich das Gefühl,
 vielleicht war es nur mir, wer wollte das kommende
 weil du nie gesagt, was Sie wirklich suchen.

 Und dieser Moment fürchte ich ist bereits gekommen
 Wieder allein zu sein, zurück, wo ich schon weg
 Du da bist, und hier bin ich
 noch fragen, ob wir jemals wieder dasselbe sein.

Eines Tages, ich weiß, dass sich unsere Wege wieder kreuzen
 die Verbindungen hatten wir können restauriert und ausbessert werden
 Schicksal und Bestimmung bringt uns wieder näher
 Du und ich zusammen, bis für immer.. "

 ... Eger seni ne kadar çok sevdigimi bir Bilsen ...
 ... Seni seviyorum ... xoxo

Details | Prose Poetry | |


He looked at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time and instinctively he knew that he loved her far more than anything else on this earth and far beyond anything in the sky. He never knew that beauty captivated the body in order to obtain permission to flicker its light unto the soul. He said unto himself: "When the feeling for beauty happens to be associated with the sight of some human being, the transference of love is made possible" and he smiled.

"It is all the beauty of the world" he exclaimed, "it is universal beauty, for which we all long". As he glanced at her ever long and bade her a smile like no other, she took his hand and filled the spaces between her fingers with his, and they both smiled when she realised that their hands were perfectly matched and divinely foretold in the stars. At that moment he knew that the heart and the seed remind us that the art of falling leads to something astoundingly beautiful. To love for the sake of being loved is rather human, but to love for the sake of loving is something altogether rapturous.

He peered within this new sunset and he comprehended all the secrets of the universe in his new found love. He realised that romance is a thing of beauty and she is love's perfect accompaniment. He no longer needed to call unto the heavens for love when he realised that her heart shared precious parallels with the shimmer; mother nature’s dance with the stream. 

He looked into her eyes and saw all the universe's dreams sweetly glistening back at him and he said unto her: "As men, we are told that to make women fall in love with us we must make them laugh, but every time you laugh I fall in love with you all over again"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The color of Love

One must realize the green tree's and the green grass. Also the blue-less skie's
and the many sombrandt thing's that surprise us of our future, but remind us also
of our past. Now and then there's a rainbow streaking before our eye's. My God, its
so beautiful, as we see the view of it, for noone can dispute its image and none can
doubt its purpose all around and beyond the panoramic delight. The view of the rain-
bow and the reason we see it in it's amazing arraingement of color, represent the
practicallity of God's creation of black and white.
    The color of love is all around us, the color was found beneath the path of the
ground. God created his masterpiece to show that love shall forever be appreciated
by all the up and the down. What's impossible for man is possible-through the court-
ship of the creator of love  and you shall have efferrescent love for life to enjoy all the 
admiration of people of different races.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Chase

Sounds of laughter shake the trees
Sounds of screaming bring me to my knees
Living is so hard
But I really love this world
Nothing's gonna change me
I will sign myself and turn into a tree
Sounds of laughter
Dancing to nonexistent music
I will never regret leaving you even this, even after
I will live my life
I will cheat Her
I will avoid the old age and strife
It's hard to be someone in this time
What time is it?
And what are we upon?
In the company of the stars, my purple eyes almost look lit
The fires that She caused
To ensnare me
I escaped
Laughter shakes the trees
Screaming brings you to your knees
She is coming after me
But I will live and live, and I love life
And I learn from all this strife
And I love and despise humanity
And I will forever hold on to my sanity
Because She will never get to me

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Three Kisses

The first on her forehead
Second on her right cheek
Third one I would love to
Kiss her lips, but afraid 
Of her cut!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fourth Fable

 The Fourth Fable 
The Fourth Fable 
A Jesus Cowboy Song 
Eye am a strong man iff strength is not physical alone, 
but charachter and hope, love become my armour 
 my arm as gates once opened close now new ones open at a glance in poverty 
of riches poor people there in Heaven sing to Jesus as they wave branches from 
the richness of the trees beside the waters running in the trenches freely given 
overflowing when a little lamb just wants a drink of water another drink the water 
bubbles up so no one has to lift her she can reach the water carefully she drinks 
and then she sings…' 
'my holster is empty my life is complete my love is in Heaven 
eye have plenty to eat and to drink ' 
life is not meant to be a shoot em up rodeo 
life is not meant to be a shoot um up movie 
my life is in Heaven my holster is empty 
eye have LOVE' 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You love Me

You love me as I am With all my inconsistencies You never give up on me In Your eyes you see me As a complete person Made in Your image Though I am far from being An image of You Without flaw or sin Yet that is what You Choose to see in me, as Your child You love me as I am Small, weak in body and mind Filled with doubts that come Bombarding me daily Even then, You calm my spirit You bring rest to my soul My tears You wipe away With Your very hand Full of compassion and love You hold me in Your arms Till my fears pass away So Lord, help me be What it is You see in me Let my speech be that of You Speaking only Your love My actions be what You Would direct of me to do May my heart grow To be as big as Yours Holding tight the hurting and lonely Showing them a glimpse of You Yes, Lord, You love me as I am You love me as I am, just as I am

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Wishing you could love me too

You mean so much to me, more then you'll ever know. 
More then ill ever be able to describe.
But I'll try.
Voice of a angel, touch ever so soft you would think its a feather.
Eyes so beautiful seeing them on a sunset day, medusa stare ever so hypnotizing locking eyes can't look away.
Baby in the tummy, heart just started beating giving me a rush that I really needed.
Love so old I feel defeated.
Even though I do everything for you, I'm looking out for me just keeping a close over view upon you.
How can I fix your life if mine isn't alright, but i don't know where id ever be with out you by my side.
And I thought I'd never know but as of now I'm pushing through. 
Now that your gone, I miss you every night.
But I gotta be strong.
Cause if not you'll be gone and ill be with a baby missing its mom.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I'm Alone And Wounded

Yesterday can't be erased. Our memories on the wall, The still images surround me Feeling claustrophobic. I, the only prisoner, Of these still images. Forgive you isn't the solution, There is a hole in my heart. I do forgive you But our love is gone, The memories are there. I was hurting, you were so blind. I did everything yours way Just to keep your love alive But that's not enough for you. You polluted my life with your Indifference, intensified emotions. I've lost my respect for you. What am I to do, did you ever care ? Or, may be it's just because I love you ? I, once a happy and social boy And then you came in my life, I believe but all you did was lie and falls, Now I'm confused, alone and wounded.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You love

You love.odt You love Why do eye seem afraid of you undaunted by the passing of the time the love is what is most important kept in the passing of the fear of you most people take for granted love they live the wonderful and never have the need or want the part eye have for you in secret kept to tell you love the agony of love is this just weeping uncontrollably no time to give you love no time to make you understand my love is thine the gift of man the end of time the birth of god is coming soon suddenly a man comes he is rushing madly headlong in such a hurry he is frowning he passes me and eye smile and as eye smile his angry is telling me why are you smiling and then he is gone like the winding road and yet eye smile and because he was struggling with the passing of the time and he must hurry so to be the adamant being in his hurry does not excuse my joy is love for you this is my love for you my happiness at seeing others struggle for what we have is pure and new you love

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Once Upon a Time

It's raining I look at my window and wonder is it wrong to think so fondly of my youth,
Is it wrong to keep on looking so tenderly back to younger days to my ‘once upon a time,’
An old fool, a sentimentalist thinking so perseveringly, looking and lingering behind me,
I love the joy of my gentle pastime I would do it anyway despite whatever people may say.

I love the fragrances gone, these days, of flowers in the spring tide of my old past life,
Before the blooms were ruined by the dust of the hard turnpike road where life changed me,
I have many tender memories of years long gone, if they have been gilded, it’s my own gilt,
My memories are my memories, they are more precious to me even than the air I breathe today.

Remembering locking hands and pressing on the grass on which I started to learn to walk,
And my early school days where an eager mind soaked up knowledge and never discrimination,
Understanding words little ones at first and feeling good with a gold star in my workbook,
Making friends, learning while playing games on sweet green grass in a wonderful innocence.

So who cares if I fly high upon the wings of my memories souring over good days long gone,
Back to the earliest scenes of my innocent boyhood days when time was made of purest gold,
The pictures in my mind hang before me colorful moments carved into the hardest of stone,
So can you see why I must recall these days, if I turn my head they will be snatched away.  

Details | Prose Poetry | |


These hours own shadows, hold words that we will never speak. We cannot see past the next line. This fear of dreaming craves my sleep. And you taste sweet when the anger chases you down.

Silver moons hang down from heaven. We are the last of the unbelievers. We got left here at the rivers edge.

The cold is creeping in, into the corners and I follow you. Alien child, you suck the blood from my wounds. This war will not crush us. I hear you laugh out loud. Or maybe thats just you crawling up my spine... Stitched together, lonely tonight.

Concrete demons hide behind these doors. I feel the moisture of your breath. Morning glory stories unfold into the texture of my eyes. My patchwork romance held together with lies. Just one more hit and we will see again. And we could be fine again.

Reminded of your rose pink lips, perfect kiss. I will never tell your secret.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I could only imagine
Your hands
Wrapped around my waist,
Hugging me from behind.
Oh, the worth
That you embody
Ignites my heart, my soul.
Your touch drives me wild,
Like you’re another side of me.
The words you recollect
Not only comfort me, but enlightens me.
You make me smile regardless,
Any storm or trial.
I know you'll be there with such charm,
And that sparkle in your eye.
You say you love me.
And that means the world to me
I’m yours, and I love you like no other
You’re my peace in mind,
You’re the sun in my storm,
The air in my suffocation,
Your all their is to be.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Forever You by WLM created on March 20, 2011

You are the one I want 
Forever and again
To brighten my day
In each and every way
You shine as bright as the sun
With the streaming rays which fall to the earth
And your smile is as beautiful
As the stars at night and the moon so bright
With you in my life
I will have not strife
Our lives will be so content
No matter where we have went
Our love together
Will last forever
You make the dark clouds go away
With each and every passing day
There are only a few
Whom are just as you
You are perfect in every way
And this is how you will always stay
I know you will be mine
For now and for all time
We will follow the line
Our lives together will be so fine
Our love will always be new 
For me and for you

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Heart of a POET -- Speaks (Part 3)

Red Tears , Create a Black Lake
Where my Heart now swims

You may Kiss your Bride : I raise HER veil, see the essence of my universe
Wrapping my arms around Her; drawing Her closer, We kiss our tongues dance
The eyes, ears the depths of my soul ; screaming “Rejoice; our host is Whole
 I remember Our Wedding Dance a Rhapsody to Eternity, the rest of the day 
                                            A soporiferous trance
I remember the last  Beautiful  Picture  I ever Felt of  “  L E N O R E  “
 My host  was  standing on the Shuffle-Board Court talking with Mr. Adams
 His only “FATHER” - in law :  Respectfully  my host gazes beyond “TO LENORE”
 Standing by the railing  on the main deck a few feet below : He glances and catches
 THE flash in LENORE’s Green Eyes : the mirrors of HER SOUL a silhouette :
  Against the Sun standing upon his own reflection Smiling at His smile : I Smile
 Sending  LENORE ‘s Heart a whisper :  a LOVE Song;  Singing of our FOREVER
 A Toast to MRS LENORE ELLEN(Adams)JOHNSON The Heartbeat of my SOUL
 Her eyes bypass me to her Daddy,  I nod my appreciation, He nods Saying call me D A D 
 OUR eyes  revert to LENORE who raises her glass which flies from her hand:  I glimps
As a sailing boom sweeps across the main deck Hearing the wails of fear and pain
The boom lifts LENORE up and throws Her over the Railing I glance at DAD “FROZEN
 In that second of time” I tore off my cummerbund tie and my shoes “All HANDS on Deck  
ALL HANDS ON DECK Man Overboard  I start to leap as the arms of a monster puts me in a
I can’t break through “ Let me go YOU stupid  M___er - F___er  Please LET ME GO I cried 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


some one like you
one in a million
and thousand words
it wasn`t enough
to telling you...
you are the one
and the only 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


 There is a personal testimony and everyone's focus is on the group and on the 
self and not on JESUS where it was supposed to be the reason eye won't go to 
fellowship with rich working Christians meeting at a SUNDAY SUPPER to drive to 
a pizza place where everyone pays something for the food even if they share it the 
cost is still beyond the pocketbook of yew. The added price of fellowship with 
world is loss of spirit functions eye am not suggesting we have meetings in the 
desert with the hedgehogs but there could be a meeting place for all the 
Christians like the fish doors of the early days of meetings they were in and out 
so furtive searching alleyways for soldiers avoiding arrests and fighting and 
bringing lots of food in the bags of fishes and the loaves of breads in pockets of 
the tunaes fishes smile eye could just not resist this in almost every Church 
there is a Kitchen and in some of them is love the people make the soup for the 
homeless and the court appointed prisoners and even important people come. 
Hang a fish upon the door of every kitchen in the nation make a place with tables 
where the poor can come in love do not forget the love the soup is  nice but even 
slabs of raw meat are not enough with hate. 
Eye could not write a word on yesterday the things that eye had wanted to write 
left on the flight of lost ideas and night came again without a thought and then the 
day came back this fable was born and eye decided to try religion again. The 
focus of a lot of people is the congregation the error being life is not a middle 
class house with people making money in a paper plate of life some people 
need a cup of soup just to survive please open up your love first open up your 
hearts then open all them kitchen cupboards up. There is another thing that eye 
must say to all the bible thumpers not yet in the grave what does it matter what 
the date and day of this my own salvation come the day of JESUS was 33 AD the 
date that GOD was saving me. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Nightmare

If anything could ever be more perfect than what was before my eyes at that time, I'd have to see it to 
believe it.

Her eyes glittered like diamonds in the morning sun. It was truly a sight of proportions beyond any normal 
human's thoughts. She stepped toward me with the utmost grace and delicacy, along the rugged concrete in 
a beautiful, shimmering black dress that came down to her ankles and some expensive looking shoes. I 
wasn't sure why she was dressed so glamorously, but nevertheless, she was and it was gorgeous. 

When she approached me, I couldn't even say a word before her warmth embraced me. I never wanted to 
let go. It was a feeling of pure bliss. The one I loved and I felt that love returned to me, as I siphoned it 
through my soul.

A drop of rain caught my attention, as I let go I proceeded to pull a compact umbrella out of my sweater 
pocket. The rain grew heavier, and as it did i managed to get my umbrella to open to shield her from the 
dark downpour. 

It became darker and darker as more and more clouds gathered up and blocked out the sun. The rain 
became torrential, the winds grew. A beautiful day turned into a storm as quick as the lightning that struck 
above us.

We walked toward a bus stop, to go somewhere; I wasn't entirely sure where we were headed, my body 
seemed to move uncontrollably. But as I walked, I noticed her moving farther and farther away. She had 
stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.

Blood gathered in pools on the ground, meshing in with the rain, dripping off her back. The dress was torn 
and the shoes were gone. She fell to her knees and placed her face in her hands.

I ran to her. I couldn't tell if I was crying or if the rain was just gathering on my face. I touched her back, and 
there was nothing, nothing but a gaping wound, a gash that was bleeding profusely. I tried to clear her hands 
away from her face, but they wouldn't move. I reached once again for her hands, and before they could even 
get halfway, a shriek of decibels unknown escaped her lips; a siren's scream it seemed, it deafened me and 
sent me flying though the night sky.

The love of my life.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You're Turning Into Luke

And so there it is. The truth. What was once a far off glimmer is now glaring. In my face. Interogating.
How can you not see the hope you gave. The hand you held out and snatched away as I jumped. And you watched me fall alone.
How do I get it so wrong? I swore I wouldn't play this game again. No matter how many times I roll the die it always lands on ONE.
Or was it imagination all along?
I can't do this again. I think this time it may just kill me. And I may just let it. Let it wash over me. A sea of 'I wanted'. I'll drown in this hopelessness.
Silly of me for thinking that this was my precious, second chance at tasting bliss. I have to realise and accept the truth.
That you don't love me too.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Giver and Thief

Like a thief, you have stolen my heart
The feeling so good, it’s hard to be apart
You are beautiful, rare and will always be mine
I will always love you, till the end of time
Like a giver, I have offered you my love
You have it all, until we’re taken by the Man above
Like a thief, I want to take your heart
Hold it forever, like a priceless piece of art
Like a giver, you offer your love to me
Embrace it I will, because with you I desire to be
You have my heart, my body and love
And our hearts fit together like two turtledoves 
So together we are, both givers and thieves
Never to separate, like one from their beliefs

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I must confess, you are by far my favourite 
I don’t mind stealing a kiss in the coffee shop 
Between sips of our spiced lattes  
Or letting you push the trolley in B&Q 
When we are choosing paint for the study 
In the little house in Hoxton we decided to buy

I’m not the kind of woman to care for affection 
I’ve gone twenty one years without it 
But with you it’s different 
It doesn’t make me feel loved,
Or any more of a woman 
It makes me feel alive 

The closet is full of your vintage jumpers 
You particularly favour brown hues 
I know this, as I’ve bought you seven
I don’t mind wearing one now and again 
The smell of them reminds 
Of the long walks in the city we’d take 
I’d let you hold my hand
After the thirteenth date 
I smile to myself, thinking 
How far we had come 
Since then. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


 I watched the paper soak up the ink
as it blotched in breast strokes across the page...
 suddenly I was street bound
in hand signals
legs, pinned to the pavement
as July scrolled by in reverse
and a name scrawled across
the wheat covered hills...

 A single day took it's light 
from the crayon colored buildings
and the laughter rang from
a beautiful city where the call 
of seagulls brushed it's wings
against my cheek like friends
embraced, arm in arm, 
our hopes, crushed
long before infancy.

I plucked a locus from my eye
as petals of golden Roses 
littered the street like pieces
of shattered poetry.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

I scream

I scream and scream no one
Hears a sound 
I punch and hit the door

Has hard has I can
But cant seem to break it down
I slam and push but can't seem  to keep it shut
I whisper and silently talk 
And it seems everyone can hear

I wish and pray and 
Nothing comes true I fight
And seems to do no good but 

I love and love just as I should

Details | Prose Poetry | |


If love doesn't love anymore, I will love you. 
If the sound of it makes you feel sad and blue, 
if it brings sore memories that hurts real bad, 
if it seems like a charade, and turns you off...
I'll find some other way some how to show I care, 
if all ever fails you I won't, if love doesn't love you, I will...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Warm Hearts

Warm hearts thumping in rhythmic pattern
all together in a chorus so divine,
that it speaks to the soul and sings to the heart,
and we join hands and dance in the winter paradise
of such beauty in the changing of the world.

As we all dance and sing,
we show each to each a beautiful thing
that makes us all sing.
Warm hearts we are and warm hearts we do have;
all we do is love and love again,
in the times of different seasons
we dance and sing and love,
for our warm hearts they love one another,
and together they shall beat together,
one by one-
and with the taking of a springtime storm
we shall indeed enjoy such beauty
our warm hearts produce.


Details | Prose Poetry | |


Those spoken words that can't be taken back come back as incendiary 
attacks.  How many rough relationships must one go through before one 
finds smooth?  Is it me or you? Don't be fooled. We are the key ingredient 
that our kids feed on. Do they grow strong or limp along?  
Is there life out there? Is there hurt after mistakes?  
Is the Lord's day really all that great? What about the other days of the 
week?  The world continues spinning,  this concept of us is 
revolutionary.  Together we find balance in give and 
take, the reorientation of space so that the stars you look upon don't crumble 
and fall. Heaven is two feet from the ground.  A morning fog we walk through 
daily.  Good quickly dissipates and we're left wondering how heaven drifted so 
far away. What happened to Sunday?  How did the Sabbath move from 
Saturday?  How did we become disenchanted?  Separate but equal,  so 
political our lies are believable.  Can I count on your vote?  Sure (not really). 
Stop gerrymandering.  What's mine is ours. Erase the lines that divide. 
Come close to close.  Let me peer through you, stir that ocean inside of you. 
Let our problems fade in the distance like a pier five miles away.  
Rise above crosses and steeples above the morning mist that evaporates 
when the sun first kisses it. Let me hold you in my heaven till noon, 
lay with you in evening, give you that resurrective feeling at the first stroke of 
midnight.  Your dark knight with whispers of goodnight, choir preaching, have 
you heard a good word? Even after all that we see reaches oblivion,  
I got you. Going to ride it out until the waves become smooth. 
If still waters run deep, sit down so I can quench my thirst in your 
baptismal pool. Dive into your postrapedic positions and serenade you with 
what is coming next. Rain falling on violet painted window sills on the inside it 
sounds like a lullaby. We've mastered this concept so hard to come by. We 
can't do drive-bys,  can't duck and hide. Us and we go together the way 
summer follows spring. What you take away, give it back new. Be my 
solstice,  a day that separates and joins seasons. My soul sister,  soul mate 
and soul date: expiration of forever and a day. Together you and I with 
mountains to climb,  storms to soar beyond, and a heaven to get into, 
mornings to walk through.  No more gerrymandering.  A hope you can believe 
in. I am T.S. Lewis and I approve this blessing. Let's make it smooth.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

love me

love me when im strong.
love me when im me when im me when im mad.
love me when im me when im me nomatter what mood im me to the moon and back.

love jamie

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My love for you

My love for you will never change it will stay as long as you love matter how heard it is.and no matter how we fight it just makes us stronger and wizzer.from the top to the bottom.I will love you untell the end.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Midnight Pearl

They sat, huddled in the shelter of knees and nooks, wrapped in the blackness of midnight*, warmed by the kettle fire. The rise and fall of tale and tune, bathed the gathering. Mist rose from the surface of the pond. Fireflies crowned the heads of lovers. Some stood like shields behind arched backs. Some cradled their dear ones between their thighs. Heads lolled as strands of silken hair, were drawn between fingers which only hours before held swords and maces. Upturned faces drenched in the red-gold of the fire, received calloused caresses. As, each in his or her own heart visited, the halls of Beowulf and the sanctity of Camelot like cameos of black onyx, white pearl* raised, the stage was set for love and lovers.
Poet: Debbie Guzzi Contest Midnight Pearl Date: 10/25/10

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sweet Lucy - Final Part

Lucy, sweet little thing, life was boring for me,
She made me wonder. She woke me up
A sweet sound, barking excited as always.
I reach for the door for my daily newspaper, 
On the back I saw an ad, a picture that looked like Lucy.
The owner was a little girl, quote “Please, if you see her, bring it back to me”
A reward was posted, 500 dollars! 
Money was something I was not interested in.
Lucy, Her name was actually Susie.
What should I do now? Deciding to stay true to myself,
I took her to the rightful owner,
I drove all the way to the little girl’s apartment in Manhattan
Room 307, I must have hesitated at first, I could just walk away.
But to see a sad little girl, because of me…is not what I do.
I looked at Lucy, sweet little thing, 
She stared at me again with those eyes of hers
That sweet face of hers’ made me gloomy. 
Barking and wagging her tail.
Even before I could ring the door bell, the door suddenly opened.
And I knew it was over between Lucy and me.
Little girl must have recognize that sound of sweet Lucy.
She ran towards me and pointed and said
"I found her, Susie!" I was saddened.
Lucy sweet little thing, I looked at her for the last time and pet her saying goodbye.
She kept on making a noise, the same noise when I found her on the alley
But it sounded different, like she knew this was my goodbye.
As I got on the elevator, I saw her playing with her real family
With the little girl parents, I didn't bother about the reward, for I have already gotten my reward from Lucy…that is when I met her on that alley.
She gave me a new look at my life…Lucy Sweet little thing..Goodbye!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

When Alone

When skies are bluer than ever before
and clouds disappear from sight
I am alive
When thunderstorms flash white
and the rains come
I am alone
When daffodils burst forth from the snow
and crocus peep through
I am alive
When winter cold and trees barren
and leaves lie on frozen floor
I am alone
I want to face life's storms
with friends who hold my hand
and family who clearly states,
"You are not alone"
Then, I will live.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Bleeding Heart

My heart is bleeding and I don't know why

My heart is beating can't you hear it cry

My heart is broken can't you see it split

My heart is torn, torn to bits

My heart is vengeful and it has no regrets

My heart is soulless and it needs to be put to rest

My heart is useless cause you choose somebody else

My heart is frozen from everyone else

My heart is black

My heart is cold 

My heart can't let you go

My heart will wave goodbye 

My heart sank for the last time.....

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Spirit of Christmas

John and Bath, short for Bathsheba Adams, were quite a pair.  Nothing ever got them down, except maybe an occasional cold.  Even then she would take hers out into the cold winter day of the back parking lot of the slum tenement building.  Where, there, she would nudge three of the fifteen cats trying to climb her double tattered blue jeans, out of the way, in order to stand and offer her cold up to God, seeing that it was all she had to offer Him and really she would be grateful, as well as giving up her only possession.   She often asked God why He didn’t seem inclined to come and keep them company, because she believed in Him heart, body and soul and talked to him constantly because John just got tired of listening.  She and John loved each other and no other.  She hadn’t worked steadily in Lord knows when.  John on the other hand got hurt on the job just before he was vested in company rights and the pitiful settlement he received was long gone.  He was left as barely good company for Bath, telling her over and over to just wait ‘til “he gets back on his feet” literally.  But that is not an option any longer, so Bath feels the need to keep him company. They really only had what you might call one vice.  That being because you might say they were wasting good money for no good reason.  They religiously bought two, one dollar lottery tickets every day that passed.  Well, there it was, the day before Christmas and Bath didn’t have money but for one ticket.  Well, she hotfooted down through Chinatown because there were still barbers there who would buy hair and she wanted to give John a special lottery ticket for Christmas.  The deal done she was cold as the mischief and begging God not to let her sinus get worse as she headed through the light rain for those lottery tickets.  John, meanwhile was hobbling down to get his ticket.  She always insisted that he walk to the corner himself so if he won he would feel like he had bought the ticket.  The rascal stopped and sold his crutch.  Can you belive, for $1 he sold his crutch.  Well, to cut to the chase, some friends carried him home after he bought the ticket.  Beth came in and after a bowl of soup, they had a prayer and wished each other merry Christmas and exchanged the two tickets which were the gifts.  Well, my story ends here.  I'm not going to tell you one or both won the lottery.  But in the spirit of Christmas I will say they lived quite long, and they were very happy while they lived. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |



 I do love you Charlie Blue My brown eyed merman I kiss your hand Down by the 
sea Turn into me Eye love ewe fairest Ianthe just come there and drown me We 
live in caves Awash with waves Anemones our flowers We pass the hours 
Chasing turtle and fish Finding a lost kiss the hours at the sea make me weak in 
my human form my fins allow me to swim but only to your arms the legs eye use 
to walk allow me to be free but only fins can bring my back to ewe to kiss to 
drown the underwater lover there she is my mermaid playing me I do love you 
like the fish eye am used to better days sometimes sick and needing help yet I 
do love you the merman is so far away When eye drown in the desert cactus 
between the city and the mountain my mermaid kisses save me from the cretins 
she is fighting for my life eye can feel her call my namme Charlie Blue I do love 
you. Woman in the foamy waves 
swimming near to me, my love it comes. It is a heart, a mermaids heart. My 
brown eyed merman I do love you eye love to watch the shrim:Pe crawl across 
the ocean sea she feeds them to her strang pelican and water can be breathed 
by a Knight of drownded love. This was harder to do than it looks adding verses 
sent to me from she who loves the eye then reaching somewhere south to find 
the love to add the words to add our mixed and many feelings making this into 
this fabel. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mirage of Love

Mirage of Love
                  by Odin Roark

So many have perished
Struggling against infatuated tail winds,
The warning sands of drifted reality,
Making waste the perilous effort.

An innocent’s once unclouded vision
Becomes overcast, making the heart seek further,
Not knowing the quenching of thirst unreachable
Amidst the storm of a choking delusion.


How persistent desire’s seduction,
This passion of will longing to drink of love’s elixir,
Unaware love requires not object
But pure awareness,
The beneficence of being in a state of love.

Some find…

Above the hot breath of passion
Resides the calm of rendezvous,
Where connection to the rapture,
Waits patiently for the traveler.


How tremulous the venture,
This seeking of libidinous reward,
This misadventure across the deserts of beauty,
Whose demands make waste the misinformed.

Such a map to consider.
Such a compass to contemplate
Such a reward only patience can deliver.
And still…

Thirst is a given.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Temple Of Cinnamon Memories

The echoes~ 
from a haunting refrain 
     buried deep, 
within the many corridors 
    of her heart 
weave their tangled, worn threads 
    playing on her memories 
like the delicate, frayed strings 
   of a lonely violin.
Lingering whispers intricately 
   seek the depths to the labyrinth 
of her soul, creating a tapestry  
   of wild cinnamon roots and leaves.
Her wounds of torn and shattered illusions 
   roar their voices in her mind 
like a jungle of ethereal savagery 
   that clipped her silken dreams 
leaving her flying with broken wings.
the tenderest of love came unto her 
   opening her eyes with magic rays 
that touched her spirit 
   with its fiery fingers of love 
opening her heart  
   to the rebirth of lost dreams. 
When his wings unfolded 
   he beckoned her to come 
             And ~ 
      She followed  

Anne P Murray
C@2011 LadeeAnne 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

On the Sundays I Cried and Tasted His Kiss.

My eyes closed, he made me breathe, he stopped...

and I cried, I drowned myself in the taste of how it should be as he opened me, opened his
hand and showed me the way time escapes from us, and I would say...


in that moment, I would whisper myself across his hands and we'd watch yesterday scatter,
I'd study confusion and laugh.

I wanted to tell him that if I walked, I'd stumble, my head would turn backwards towards
him waiting to see him run...

but I'd never call, not once, not on a Saturday when the sun broke the sky and clouds
shattered, pieces of my heart breaking...


for him to understand.

Nights followed me and daydreams appeared in his open mouth as I brushed my lips across
his shoulders and watched tomorrow come true, and I never wanted much, I never begged for
him, I fell to his side, I felt my life dissolve into him, I whispered secrets because
when he sleeps...

he never hears me...

he never knows I'm scared.

I wanted to agree, but blue never dropped down in straight lines and I was terrified my
tears would fall in patterns that resembled pain, I wanted to open my mouth and show him
who I was, but my voice sounds too pretty when I speak his name...

I wanted to tell him, but he slept...

he dreamed while my secrets kissed his skin and hushed the Saturdays I'd 


for him to call

and the Sundays when my tears tasted a little bit like how it should be

when my lips


tasted him.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Creation, Curse and Promise

Since eternity past God the Father Son & Holy Spirit dwelled in unity and sweet fellowship.
Then Three-In-One decided to make a marvelous universe with an earth for life to dwell.
Creating an amazing array of creatures was the easy part – the risk was on the last made.
For unlike other creatures, man & woman were made in God's likeness with a Spirit.

That Spirit communicated with God, and harmony reigned as earth was well cared for.
Freedom to do was great – limited by but one tree that the humans were not to ear from.
At that tree, Satan disguised himself as an innocent snake and asked the woman questions.
Did God really say don't eat from this tree?  Well, that's to keep you from becoming like Him.

Look its fruit is beautiful and one bite and you'll know what God does and be Jehovah's equal.
Eve was confused, for this didn't sound like what Adam said God told her, but wouldn't it be grand.
If God is so good, why would he keep this secret from us of being able to be like Him – is He jealous?
The firm, juicy fruit was indeed delicious, and she quickly called Adam to taste, which soon he did.

A small act? Every war, family problem, anger, hatred, lie, killing, stealing, rape, abuse came herefrom.
The beauty of God's creation was now marred with sin that affected every part with death and decay.
God graciously gave Adam & Eve animal skins for no longer would they live in Eden's perfect climate.
From now on there would be sweat for the food they ate and exceedingly great pain during childbirth.
Even their firstborn would murder their second, starting the cycle of revenge and killing that's ongoing.

Yet God also made a promise that one would come who would crush Satan's head while being bruised.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God" clues us in to who.
For God's Son Himself would come to teach, heal and offer His life on a Cross to destroy our death curse.
Our sins He would bear and in rising He's seal the promise of eternal life, so great we Jesus' love for us.

For Jesus the cost was unbelievably high, and for us the reward is incredibly great – if we but accept.
Accept that I am a sinner, I've done wrong and need God's forgiveness to live with His perfection.
Accept that Jesus can do what I cannot – change my heart, make my Spirit alive to forever live with God.
This being GOD, the promise of heaven and new earth is sure, though pain lies in between.  Choose now.

For GOD and all creation cry out – this is what life is meant for – to know and love One's Maker.
As humans we live eternally with or apart from God, and His great desire is that we choose with.
But just as an earthly Father cannot force true love, nor does our Heavenly Father – He waits.
Though He made all and knows beginning from end, he waits and yearns that we receive His love.

Then love and be loved by Jesus in life's harshness & delight, sharing that love with other lost children
To work in harmony with the One who made us, makes life new again as our spirit is filled with new life.
There can be dry days when we don't feel His presence, and others so full that we want to shout for joy.
The fact is Our Father GOD, our Savior Jesus, the Holy Spirit, are always with us and never will leave us. Amen.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Scattering that Comes With Painful Impossibility.

Morning light and time breathing, he slipped himself underneath me as daylight broke,
I fought tears, I fought him, I fought myself and life happened in the midst of refusal...

I fumbled in my pockets for pieces of him when the puzzle of me scattered, I watched
months become rich with memories and curls tangle themselves into shadows against the
moon, I yanked out promises as my elbows bruised and wished my mouth had been sewn shut as
my jeans could erase the treasures that were left by his fingerprints...

Letting go of me and I forced myself to reach too far, I challenged my beliefs for the
taste of him, for the taste of a smile when my eyes were wet with the tears I refused to
let fall and I fell, underneath him, on a Sunday, in June, when we spoke too softly for
the sun to hear us and I don't think summer ever knew I was waiting, I don't think he knew
that I patiently watched my heart break.....

Dawn rose in October, afternoon glared at me from beneath the stars in January and I felt
him again as I wrestled with ideas of why I wanted to, and I wondered what his motivation
was in March, on the night the snow fell without regard for our safety, I almost knew it
couldn't be my curls, I felt I was way too...


I felt him in May, I reached for his hand when our windows erased the nightmares, I lay by
his side and listened to his heartbeat to find my voice and we breathed...

when lips touched without speaking, when eyes locked and closed and whispers danced
through sunbeams, when he told me, from underneath me...

he loved me...

before the sun fell and after heartbreak felt a little bit too much like June.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Priceless Love

You speak soft words saying you love me
I tell you with me it is also true
That there will never be another in life
I will ever love as much as I do you

You speak softly saying your heart desires me
And my heart gently proclaims it's also true
Telling you there is no greater desire in me
Than the one which lives in my heart for you

You tell me that you will always need me
I agree saying the feeling is mutually true
That when it comes to really needing someone
The one I desperately need in my life is you

You speak to me of your hearts special treasure
And the precious value it daily brings to you
I tell you my life is made truly prosperous
By your priceless love I never want to lose.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The rarest tale of love

Today my heart is caught in a great dilemma,
 It is unusual,uncommon & very rare,
 when mind stops to think,but heart continues its work,
 today i am in that stage of love.
This tragedy with someone is really very rare,
 That secret of my life today i want to share,
 Unconditional & uncertain towards him i was walking,
 At that moment mind was ceased to think what i was doing.
That extreme care & commitment so intense,
 this was the only feeling in my whole soul which i can sense,
 but in a second got shattered all my dream,
 When i realize that in his world,only a little i mean.
my life entered in that darkness,where light even fears to go,
 The lips which were ever smiling,on those lips now smile fears to grow. 
At that worst moment of life,someone entered my lane,
 I couldn't even noticed that he loved me like an insane.
Now here also once again got repeated the tale,
 situation made me so, that to love him i fail,
 It was impossible for me to fall in love anymore,
 'Love' & 'me' became the two sides of a seashore.
This was the tale uptil here,
 about which you can think that isn't so rare,
 But there is a truth making it EXTRAORDINARY,
 Not a lie,not a story,it is something real about me.
About the two person i told were not the different two,
 Yeah he was the same whom i loved,& who loved me too.
 The situation made him so different at different time,
 That's the RARENESS with the life of mine.
I never got the one,whom i really loved,
 He never got the one,whom he really loved,
 With every breath now,myself melting i find,
 I broked someone's heart & couldn't even saved mine

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Drowned God

Soft tongue, sharp teeth
Leave unto me your poetry like a wreath
Ivory skin, translucent.
You breathe color unto me,
Wreak ravishing horrors.
We become Dionysus’s servants
Dance, dancing mad,
tremulous whispers lulling me further 
Into the eye of the maelstrom.
Twisty and dark, your salty kiss burns and deteriorates.
You spit out the bones, the tarry flesh, cracks besmirched ivory
A rusted over echo
Of a copy of a copy of a copy

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Azay le Azay

Azay le Azay
Le Rideau le Rideau
The elegance of the water gleaming at me
Grants me the vision of a place so unlike the earth that lies before me
Such an ecstasy that leads me into a realm of existence

Far from the burdens of the imaginary borders of to whom is life
Not i
Not here
Not now do I see the horrors and neglect of the superficial binding
It is not this what holds those together but the longing for existence when cease to continue
The vortex of fear and anxiety that pulls us to the end of reality
Where there is no more to what we thought we knew but to what is not there
That is our demise
Our destiny
And our desire
Can there not be another who wishes to turn the hand dismissing that which is not seen?
There is not a further glance than that which stops in a glimpse of water

For it does not shine so far away to dishonor truth
It is always with you 
And the day to it leaves your side will be the shivering sunrise of the nights neverending
Continuous gloom and foreshadowing clues from the past, present but not future

Thus a time we must all encounter, for there is no cure of such a fate not for any
Reality as is known will not stutter to this liking 
Nor will it remain stolid in its volatile nature
Only through the gateways of the soul will this truth transform its presence

Before the sun rises bleak in the silent sky for you I must envision
 When the earth is placed beneath your rested feet at the sight where
Beauty is the virtue of existence and captivates every curve of your body
May the hollows of your physique receive the wave of delight of such a 
Spirit profound
Renaissance de moi 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Are Very Special

As I sit here and thinking about you, And when I thinking about you, Your rosy cheeks, sweet smile, Hot hazel eye's and so soft lips Is all that comes to my mind. You are very special and rare for me, My heart is always there for you. I feel we are a part of each other. Whenever you touch me my heart Glows and want to fly. When I look at my-self, I clearly feel you within my soul. A picture of an angel, A smell of an unknown flower, A feeling which called loving you. I don't know what I'd do without you Because you have a safest spot in my heart. I just hope I spend my hole life with you. You mean the world to me, I love you with all my heart and soul.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

2am- empty rooms

listen to the moon drop silver down. hearts are out of season. and my love was hunted down, killed by the ripping of patience. pretty stars lit up by the dark. i see brilliance in your eyes. last time. skin so warm. you taste like cyanide. and i cried in absence tonight. grind my teeth in pure abstraction. rub the hands that fill me up. stretch love over seas.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

am soft, petal soft

am soft, petal soft
no she is soft, cloud soft,
how do i know i am soft?
she asked,
you touch me well,
carress me well as always
and you mentioned it,
how do i knw you are soft,
i wanna touch you.
am soft, petal soft,
no she is soft,cloud soft.
your eyes are lovely she said,
no yours are heavenly i said,
how do i know she asked,
i watch the sunrise in them,
i replied.
how do u know, i asked,
i see my world in you she replied.
am soft, petal soft.
no she is soft cloud soft,
i love your lips she said,
no i love yours i said
why she asked,
coz they taste like strawberry i said,
why i asked,
i cant get enough of them she said.
am soft petal soft,
no she is soft cloud soft. . .
...... am Jim also Sadaat. . .

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Once Again

Once again, I tried to love, so I tore down my wall and let him in. Once again, he has torn my heart apart. 

So forever more the wall he had torn down I have built it higher than before. 

They say there is a soul mate for everyone so is mine the one I had at sixteen and God had taken from me at twenty or do I just not have a soul mate that everyone happens to have that makes them happy and the love that I am missing?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dark-haired ninja over my hips

I watched as the dark grew around his eyes.
He came through the window,
Stepping like a shadow.
He was the night, he was the ghost, he was the 
Unaided fighter as he reached for my side.
And I so desperately wanted to caress his masked face. 
His pace was noiseless and so attractive,
Yet death was nearer with every step,
I thought.
Still, I didn’t care if my life would have ended 
That night, stolen by the elusive ninja… 
I wanted him even closer.
He quickly searched the inside of his shozoku,
Only to reveal a deadly suriken.
Breathless, as he approached, I stood there, 
Not wanting to disenchant from his spell.
With one blow, the suriken ripped 
The shoulder of my nightgown.
Flowing red stained my pillow
And it felt so real.
Oh, how I wanted his knife at my throat,
Me, his target of the night,
And how I sighed when he drew 
His katana.
With one lethal strike I would have 
Plunged on the floor, choking for my last breath,
Yet he gently traced the contour of my 
Trembling chin… trembling, but only for his touch.
My tears sparkled in the cold, hard steel
As I sensed his breath arising.
I only heard his samurai chuckle and with no warning
He hurled his sword back into the dark.
We both moaned in anxious passion
When he bore my hand into a painful 
Wrist lock.
I did not care, I did not see, I did not feel anything aside 
The dark-haired ninja over my hips.
Our mangled bodies mirrored in the shiny steel of his forgotten blade,
His chest crowning over mine,
His hands fondling in my hair, down to my aroused breasts.
Two naked bodies trapped in my jujitsu legs.
A ninja so dark, so passionate, so fast,
He gently pulled aside my hidden Sai from under the cushion. 
He kissed my breasts, my wrists, my hair,
My lips…
My shoulder, he patched with his soothing mouth.
We locked in kiss so quickly, his tongue
Bitter from my blood, snapping at my neck
And torso while he pushed inside me, deeper.
Invisible in the dark, he loved me
In endless ways, my fragile ninja rested 
On the top of my chest.
I stroked his hair in content and silence,
Not even knowing his name.
A dark-haired ninja lay over my hips
When dawn came chewing at our lashes.
I then turned, not to see his figure,
Relying on my silent samurai
Of the dusk that I’ll go back to sleep
And he’ll go back to black.

© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


come to me.

to the floor where i kneel 

in front of you.

follow me- pay attention close 

and bend. 

your will.

your beliefs,

your promises.

your boundaries.

your comfort.

follow me with your stare as i slither back above the floor.

and crawl over

your expectations

your judgments

your rehearsed words

dripping like drool from a baby's lip.

delight, devine

as i slide off this good girl's skin

contain your



desire while i

take you up mountains in your mind, lover.

i raise you from the center of the sky.

while i  blind you with lust

'till you feel silken places inside-

 so fragile they will tear

ill bring the goblet to your mouth sir-

and the richest ruby reds slither down your throat as if it were alive.

oh yes, we will climb, 

feel the mount behind us holding us up... wind up so high must be stealing our breath

I will give you touch, lover. 

the kind you never found in all your searches.

the kind that does the touching with it's shadow not it's skin

and the shadow dances to tickle in the most promising of places.

yes ill give you whispers up here-bounce them around 

like a helium star

slowly whisper here, bouncing, slowly whisper there.

rake what used to be my fingers....

now though they are sticks from the forest bound together to 

glide through your silky hair and leave their beautiful piney scent.

come to me, and share old magic

just a baby of the woods-

lay you on a bed of branches

cold leaves, borough in your naked skin...

bring to me now your empty pallet

and fill my sorrow with your fight.



Details | Prose Poetry | |

inside My Soul

If you could see inside my soul
Peep inside my heart
You would know how much youare missed when we sre apart

If you could scan inside my hesd and my thoughts wre made public to see
You would know how much i cherish how dear you mean to me
Just how you comfort me and the way you hold me near
How our love is solid and it eases our fears

The glow in your beaytiful eyes, your smile,your gentle touch
Are many reasons i love you so much
Knowing we can talk to each other about any and everything
Together we will get through whatever life may bring

I could search the world over
This i know is true to me
Iwould never find another love like the love i've found in you

With each sunrise and sunset we never know what's in store
ther's certainly one thing i know for sure
each and everyday i love you more and more

So if you could scan inside my head
If thoughts were public to see
You would know how blessed i feel to have you here next to me.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Love Poem

The love poem is written
for somebody special
the one you truely care about
in life

And only that one

And only that
one true somebody
should be the only
one to read the love poem

And no one else

For who else could
ever know
what it is about


Details | Prose Poetry | |

'No Quatrains, But Refrains' - Part 2

(a poetry collection)
for The Beloved and in honor of Mevlana Jalallidin Rumi … beyond its usual flavor, the lemon is only as bitter as compared to the sweets preceding it… cleanse your taste buds with it and turn the favor on its head with the caress, again, of sweets upon your tongue, forgetting the bite so lately of lemon… * * * … the long-suffering of love comes at a price more rewarding than the fornication of hatred in lust… * * * … when come the rabbits from their burrows will come the song of day; dance its rhythms, for living is ceremony, a marriage, even of sorrow to sorrow… * * * … perfume isn´t released until flower-petals are crushed by pulses of the heart… ~~~~~~~ You refuse to acknowledge that I love you until you have wounded me, then sit beside the river of my blood, waiting… for what neither of us know… * * * … perhaps it is illusion, for which none can be blamed, in the hope that such rivers will come together for one heartbeat of forever… before disappearing… forever… * * * … illusions don´t matter when you see the best of yourself reflected by the beloved in the garden pool of your affection…

Details | Prose Poetry | |


A fine morning to watch the birds
By the ocean side. My dog by my side.
Deep cool breeze
Setting ablaze my ribs
My jacket and the dog’s fur
All I needed and asked for
Perfect company and comfort
…a lonely life.

My surrounding,
Oblivion of me
And me too, void of all
Very deep in thought
Knowing not when,
I sipped from the coffee cup
Wincing in disagreement,
I jolted back to memory
By its bitter taste.

What a way to discover.
But discovered I have.
A great deal of life is false and bitter
It’s bitter when you love
Yet, you be not loved
It’s false, thinking you are loved
But all the while, mugged

Why do you tell me
All is fair in love and war?
When I know what I saw?
The weak is the stepping stone
For the wicked
The honest a tool
In the hands of the fraud
Woe to them who made you bear grudge
Woe to you who got soiled in vengeance.

Nature is smart…so smart with it
For the sun must rise again
And time must heal your pain
Like the Americans will say
Every dog has its day
Dust up and take a walk
For your new lover
Might be waiting by the side walk

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Perfect Calm

So what is this perfect life you seek? You have experienced the worst of this world; attempts 
at murder, rapes, suicides, aids, abuse, addictions. You have seen the numerous images 
float across the screen and screamed inside at the pain being caused as a reflection of 
yours. But this isn’t a perfect world; there is no such thing. Even we were getting closer to 
perfection our definition would only change. Because of this you seek remedies that aren’t 
there. You can’t change everything; you can only do your bit to make things better. Instead 
of constantly doing nothing because you think you have do everything. Just do your bit and 
be happy that you have done that.

You feel like you should be able to do everything to help them; good at sports, high IQ, a 
compassionate, caring human being. But you lack the confidence, the belief that you are 
able. And time drifts by. The dreams are the same as those from the last century but nothing 
has been achieved; confidence has been built, you have achieved the successes of 
conventional society but you still feel empty. Your wish to make a mark on the world, to 
have helped make it a better place, still lay forlorn. And trapped by the false successes of 
the past, your chance to help others is being closed.

The dream would be to your own boss. Give the profits away, help as many of the million 
needy children as possible. Pull them away from the nastiness that persists and break the 
chain of abuse, hunger, pain. Pull them away and show them the goodness that exists in this 
world. Show them how to achieve the meaning of life; happiness. Show them that nothing 
much matters apart from meaningful love and affection from family and friends. That a one 
true love should be obtained by all. 

Then at night you could return contented, could return to the house by the sea and be 
surrounded by laughter, happiness. Surrounded by love. Surrounded by serenity. 
Surrounded by calm.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Invisible Lover

From amidst the raging storm of thoughts a cry shattering the sky… 

“When wilt thou return from the dew-topped mountains?
From those high peaks that rub my imagination through.

Where oft doth thou disappear into a fragile trail of foot prints that mystically 
from where I hear a heart’s lonely cry; from where the frantic cries of the reaper 
submerge dies.
Is it true or is it just I? 

What hath thou so wonderfully witnessed from a town so tinsel lies?
From where such ruthless condemnation forked displayed…

From where ever, tell me now, tell me how and tell me why?
When thou art gone for what must I still low lie?”

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Mustard Seed

Potential full,
This tiny seed;
Encapsulated promises
Not fulfilled;

Watered by Love;
It’s hard shell softens;
Love beckons its release;
    grace extended;
    promises unfold;
    new life to behold,

					of new beginning.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I have not eaten today,
But my heart is filled
Not hungry of affection.
I had a fill of you last night
A fill of you for a life time

All around us are walking corpses
Corpses of political disregard
Humans of no nations
Even when they are bona-fide citizens
Your blood and mine flows in them

The government abhors the poor
Feeds them with empty promises
Shoves them through the door
They pay the bills
For social amenities they can’t find
Pay taxes for their castles 
Government built in the air
But we know their ancestors
Filthy dogs eating from the king’s crumbs
No; Lets not unknot the knot
Soon a messiah might heed us

In heaven’s book of life,
I heard the poor names are there
In here’s book of life
It is deleted.
Thus, in your head,
Lays your kingdom and glory 
Get rich or die trying
Or; be their poor and keep sulking.

Well, like them I saw… 
I have not eaten
Flesh gone weak to skeleton
The solitude of love within
Keeps me living; I am breathing
But I am moving,
Towards your direction
I see your beam

I feel new
When I see you
From my heart 
Seeps through the rays of the sun
Its fun; this love on death line
We survived the genocide
We survived the war
We survived love
We survived us
I love you too.

This poem is dedicated to the abused tribes of Rwanda and Nigeria during their respective civil wars resulting in near human annihilation. Though time has passed, we still feel your pains chilling our bones. The survivors.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heart of an Ocean

My love in you  
like the ocean,  
I want to dive into your soul,  
never resurface.  
I’d drown if I could.  
Breathe in, never let go,  
explore the very depths,  
into the heart of the ocean,  
to see what lays at the bottom,  
Unrequited, until I touch it.  
the further I venture into  
a territory unknown,  
the more I discover,  
the more I love,  
the more I am enthralled and determined  
to see what mysteries await me.  
The more I penetrate into  
the gratifying abyss  
of your heart that seems  
to have limits boundless, 
the more I want,  
the more I seek to reveal.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

be so kind to me

be so kind to me
for i was so kind to you
love me
as i loved you,
(...but you never loved me...
you never saw my love for you-

-for you were blind and still are-

my heart trembles and takes me out of this place-
yet nothing seems real without you...
never did i think i went on without you
(see me now with gold
  hear me roar like a lion- but surely pride shall die out...
and i shall walk along the gutter
with a weak mind set back on you and only you

only wish that you'd be so kind to me
for i was so kind to you
and love me
as i loved you

(but it is hard to love a rock
and its hard to water stone- and watch it bloom into a rose-
just be kind
and i shall smile another day
and keep away from the garden of the dead


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Word In Season

Hey! you guys, I see you there,
Mom, Dad, in your chair.
Family ,friends now don’t be sad
If you saw me now, then you’d be glad 

My body’s not broken anymore
Got a Harley outside my mansion door
Well. maybe not, don’t hurt to dream
Anything’s possible here it seems

There’s no more sorrow, no more pain
No more hospital bed’s where I have lain
In such a state of helplessness
With no one there to hear you fuss.

The “son” shines bright on this sides shore
No darkened days for me no more
Just peace and love, you’d never guess
That I’d be living in this Bliss

There’s so much joy every day
To see God’s real in every way
To know that he’s forgiven me
And from all my sins he set me free

Not laden down with earthly cares
Without the drag of worldly snares
My life is now so bright and new
It’s happiness in all I do

I know you’ll miss me Mom and Dad
I’ll cherish too the times we’ve had
The way the Sunday’s used to be
Together with the family

You children, growing up so fast
My love for  you will always last
Without reserves, without condition
An endless love, that was my mission

To give you sound advice to keep
My word’s I’ve planted very deep
Within your mind and in your heart
You see we won’t be far apart

My love lives on in your memories
My spirit too with yours  it see’s
 If you need to know just what to do
You’ll hear my word’s, and know it too
That all the time  you were so mad, 
You’ll say that word was from my Dad.

In my book of memories, is my sister and my brother
I want you to know I’m very glad, that we had each other
The good times and the bad times, it seems we’ve had our share
But if we needed one another, you’d know that we’d be there.

If it were fishing or a hunting or just building a four wheeler
The fun we had together would always be a sealer,
Of the love we shared together  a bond unlike any other
I was always very happy to have you for my brother.

Mom & Dad, I’ll wait for you upon this golden shore
Children, sister, brother too , my friends  and so much more
I want to say to you, but find that I must close  
But a greater family to me I could have never chose

When you think you’ve lost everything and there is none to gain
Just look again and you will see his blessings fall like rain.
You see I now am peaceful, he took me up to rest
In being here, I know now, I have the very best.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Anew

Love anew
July 25, 2010

My love for thee 
Is like the mourning dew
As it shows on the green green grass
And wildlife abounds
 At the sign of the first sun
As it peaks through the clouds
With its orange hue
The color is grand
And will not subdue
Until the bright bright sun
Shines upon us
It shows its beauty
Throughout the clouds
As never before
And untouched by man
Our love will grow
By leaps and bounds
Unto the depths of infinity
Like in the darkness of the sky
With the millions of stars
Shining down upon us
And the bright moon 
Casting its shadow
On the forest of woods
With the trees dancing wildly
Beneath the cool summer breeze
Our love is endless
As the words I say
With each and every day

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Milroy Farm

Milroy Farm
William L. Moore
William McCracken Milroy

Sitting in my Deer stand
Upon my Uncles land
Feel the simple breeze
As it whispers through the trees

Waiting for the Deer
Not a single hint of fear
Hear the leaves rustle
In all of the bustle

As they encroach
The closer they approach
It’s really really strange
As they cross the range

As you hear the gun go CRACK
I may have hit his back
He stumbles gently away
And falls where he may lay

I must wait until he dies
Let alone through the cries
I am through with the season
Since I have accomplished my reason

Uncle Bill I thought of you when
I wrote this and wanted to make
Sure that you got it
William Lewis Moore

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sweet Lucy part-1

I was in the coffee house, sipping from that old cup.
I was in New York; winter had never felt so cold,
Yet fitting for such a cold hearted city as this
It was at mid-night, just me and the bar keeper.
He must have gotten a cold, for he kept on rubbing his nose

I drank my last cup of coffee for the road, and made my way,
With a 2 dollar dip in the jar; it was dark and yet another scream
From the dark alley, it all seems normal for the lost of life.
It was snowing, like the snow angel herself was here in this city.

As I walked across the alley, 
As that alley was a shortcut to my apartment
Maybe I was cheap to take a taxi!
Too cheap to even consider using my own car
But, hay, saving fuel is saving environment or something.
I heard a noise or was it my imagination, 
A little puppy, shivering, loss, hungry and cold
She had cute round eyes and stared at me,
With brown hair, alone with spotted white fur around her neck
And long ears, I just couldn't ignore her.

I looked around and saw no one looking for her,
What was I thinking? Surely nobody would care if i just took this puppy in.
I took off my coat and warp the sweet little thing;
"The city that doesn't care, life is a strange thing."
As I made my way to my apartment, 
I wondered, of what I should call her;
'Lucy sounds nice, don't you think", as I pet her.

My apartment is too big for me, just a lonely place for my head to rest.
I fed her some of the leftovers. She just kept on munching
Police sirens and helicopters, "ah…the sound of the concrete jungle"
Count your blessings the priest says, count your money the city says.
Fortunate or not I was lucky to cross path with Lucy, sweet little thing. 
She kept on barking, with her tail shaking, 
She seemed excited to be in her new home.

Gave her a good hot bath, she made quiet a messed!
She was playful, I slept on my couch in front of the fireplace,
Nothing new, on my television screen;
The same old news, gags, game shows, you know... excreta!
Lucy was something new though, she slept on my belly, 
She looked so innocent and peaceful, Lucy…sweet little thing in my life.
I gently pet her, and slowly played my saxophone.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Can't let you go

I want you to visit your mind 
And look into my eyes,
There you will find me staring 
back at you,
These eyes saying i miss you,
My heart is doing a lap dance 
in the presence of the lungs 
and it's breath taking.
I feel a sharp pain when i see 
your heart go up in smoke,
A flame flicking behind the 
facade of your smile,
As my mind takes a walk into 
this tiny island of yours,
Searching for the coolest spot 
where i can ponder upon 
these thoughts,
Whilst sitting on that corner 
couch listening to your 
Too terrified to even begin to 
That it used to rain,
And rivers of fresh water, 
Used to engulf your rich lands,
Before the sun wrecked havoc 
and ravaged.
Now tears and blood fill this 
When you cry and bleed.
I feel like it's time 
For the humble boy in me,
To kiss the stupid little girl in 
Till you yearn for more,
Till you can't let go,
Because i can't take it no more,
I'm disgusted of seeing you go 
in and out of relationships,
Again and again,
Like a *****.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lessons of love

To love you is like Learning in the kindergarten, Honor your teacher with All the heart and soul. To love you is like To learn the song, To sing as you want With your tone & bass. But I have learned not to Worry and walk with you, I have learned not to Ask you any question. May be it's astonishing To a man in this world, Give you endless support But this is our fate. Because a girls heart Is the most precious thing All over in the world, I have learned this too.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Where then Could My Hatred Burden

~ (~) The-Sun-rising-growing-high-evolving-in the tender emotion of-the-day, fresh-honey- dew-growing-wild-shimmering-there-lying on the new blue-morning grasses reminds-me, as- I-reminisce - cookies fall with Him always landing where they will and so time will forever tell the story... like the sweetness of the smell of the honeysuckle swaying in the warm Summer breeze, His love I seek it as though I were dying - because merciful I know as gentle winds amble along from the humble folds of His hands... my soul; depends-upon it - and so; I can fall asleep... knowing that in His heart tonight, my-heart- being-surrendered to-Him, tether tide... I'll always be protected, as I drift away to Him as I lye my head down safe and secure - amid the eternal light shining down on me from that Mighty Hill... in Heaven - as harmony, hope-and-happiness all the joy that love can bring; lilac flowers swaying away to and fro as the gentle breezes whisper quietly over them caressing them casting themselves- off-farther-and-farther-aloft a ways-up-higher-down-lower-and-within-them leaning them side-to-side-then-again across the growing cascade of the meadows rising up to greet the ascending hills - humming-birds-darting through the sky rising-up-falling-coming down-again- promenading crisscrossing around-and-around one another hovering together... suckling on the maple-sap - soft tender wings young hands blue-bonnet butterfly's-fumbling around fluttering bobbling- and-dancing about the dandelion patches - tasty buttery pollen-pockets stuck to their tongue - humble honey bumble bees with their tiny little pouches overflowing with this same sweet nectar-of life bumbling-on-by-beside-me - and as I see it... the Moon rising high over the mantis - tonight... I find myself praying - oh if only my struggle for peace were as open, and my freedom as certain - where then could my hatred burden... ? (~) ~

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Division 3: Behold the biting bees

And now I return to write another entry
in this long poem. Behold the biting bees
pollinating many trees and flowers
at all hours in their bowers,
for humankind's consumption.
Let us eat many sweets
with our loves so sweet.
My love is a grape,
so sweet and dark,
for she brings darkness upon my soul,
for she has left,yet she is as royal as Byzantine purple.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Deep Rooted Pain

Browsing through my photo file
Gazing upon your face 
My thoughts travelling to the past
Your pain through illness
The time we spent together during
How close we have become
As trees bloomed
Our love blossomed too

How could you?
Spin this yarn of lies
To conceal your face 
Still I yearn to know the real truth
We were once so close
I didn’t realize
 Just how much you hurt me
How much I still loved you

From the depth of my being
Uncontrollable deep rooted sobs emerged 
How do I explain why and from where?
The tears come
If only you knew
I once felt you with oceans between
But now I only feel my own pain

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Autumn Leaves Have Fallen

All the trees are barren now 
Leaves fallen to the ground 
Rustling of my footsteps 
Is the only sound around 

Looking at the trees in winter 
Many memories it does bring 
As they wait in winters nakedness 
Till they dress again for spring 

Remember when the branches 
Gave birth to leaves of green 
How we shared a loving kiss 
As we talked about our dream 

The walk we took in autumn 
As the colors burst above 
Heart carved in a maples bark 
Professing everlasting love 

The virginity we both lost 
Underneath that tree of dreams 
Doesn't seem that long ago 
Guess it's longer than it seems 

Maples old and twisted now 
Bark turned a weathered grey 
Heart once I carved with love 
It too starts to fade away 

Though the Lord has taken you 
They say to a better place 
Can't help my tears that fall 
As this faded heart I trace  

Details | Prose Poetry | |


the ebb and flow of this ocean surrounding me, 
consumes my waking being 
thy waves of love lap at my soul in 
ever-rising surges... 
so high the tides of erotic delight, 
that one can scarce a breath release 
to swell the seas of thy passion so high... 
that i may drown me in you 

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Cheshire Grin

The climate now is changing. 
Summer seems to turned to fall.
Winds that blew hot with passion
No longer seem to blow at all

There is frost upon the pumkin.
And it's only mid July. 
Think what we thought was love 
Were the wrong words to apply. 

Seems when we made love, 
In the day or even night.
Feelings stirred inside us both
There's was something just not right.


Maybe just be friends now 
Is what we're supposed do.
Saying that it is easy 
But in practice it's untrue.

Maybe in few months, 
Or maybe even more. 
Once we've gone our seperate ways 
We can try to open up that door. 

Can't say we don't care 
Or that we didn't try. 
Just that something happened 
Our love it slowly died.

May have been the distance 
Or maybe things we didn't say.
Just no longer had the magic 
It just faded right away. 

Both tried to cling 
To something  the past. 
Not one, but both of us 
Knew It wouldn't last. 

Now a Cresent moon is rising 
Slightly hidden by a tree.
See it rather different now 
It's not like it used to be.

When the sun rises in morning 
A new day be ushered in. 
Though I'll be without you 
I'll still have this Cheshire grin

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Trapped in her beauty-

Trapped in her beauty-
oh such beauty so uncommon in this world,
such beauty she possesses like a jewel in a dust cloud
of destruction, greed, violence, and death;
her beauty is such a thing that possesses my heart
and entangles my soul;
for trapped in her beauty is beauty in itself.

She is lovely,
like no other before,
and she knows something
that none have known before.
She is beautiful,
and she is kind;
love conjured me and her beauty
locked me away from society;
I lost my mind when she'd gone away a year ago today;
now I see she is no where to be found-
still I am still trapped in her luxurious beauty-


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Met You On My Way

I met you on my way
Along my first ever journey
Away from home
I met you on my way
The day I ventured out,
On my own.
I met you in some station
In a small crowd,
And then my imagination
It wandered out...
You were standing 
At a distance
A smiling face,
You talked to the rest
With an uncanny grace!
I looked at you
And you looked back
At my eyes,
As if your gaze 
Can see through
All my lies.
The night was dark, 
Deep and quiet,
But it was no less
Than a fairy-tale night!
I walked out
Of the small crowd
Lost in me,
Pondered again,
Again and again...
If it would ever be...
I meet you every day
Ever since that night
The way you cross me...
Do I cross your mind?

Details | Prose Poetry | |

How Sunrise Practiced Never When I Forgot to Sing.

I used to sing to him, my mouth would brush across his shoulders and he would dream...

I captured his hair and apologized for staying too long, but, God, what was time when his
breath hung about me, the dancing proclamations that I could be...


I whispered promises to no one but me, I broke every one as the tears I cried for him
became the paintbrushes and canvases that spoke me, and October afternoons were way too
warm when his voice became absent, as I sang to him, through the wind and remembered...


He appeared to be way too much and I couldn't hold my hands tight enough to let go, I
wished for his eyes as I blew a strand of summer blond hair to the west and watched the
sky blink and become the moment of waking, and I woke...


to silence as I held myself tighter in the dark that appears right before storms.

Disbelief covered me because time lied and forever ended way too soon, I knew he told me
never and I searched for it, I decided it must exist in tomorrow's sky, in the clouds that


but refused to smile.

My lips permitted the escape of my tongue to speak my experiences clearly as I found
myself on the edge of a dream that almost dropped me, and gray blue dresses tear so easily
when storms are unforgiving at the sight of a woman's foolishness, still...

I ran to him with summer feet, bare and burnt, however unaware they were of pain, for I
couldn't lose forever and never was only the way sunrise smiled at me...

teeth missing and fire~struck~angry when alone...

just to find out if sometimes was the way we left when tears strike and his eyes forget
the blue that silences the sky when we laugh the way children do...

and I sing...

forever back to sleep.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



Details | Prose Poetry | |

Why breaking my heart

Why do you have to break my heart
is it that you don’t want me anymore
it is better to tell me 
rather than you ignore me

it is better for you to tell me
rather I find out the truth myself
as I am consuming a lot of pain
which is hurting my feelings

I sit and review my decision 
did I make the right choice
as I sit lonely like rose flower in a desert
while shading tears like a lost woman

you have left me with a wound
which we will only need you to heal
but I don’t think your coming back to me
which making me cry

I am heart broken
but you cant see it through my chest
even though I act not to mind 
while I do care for you 

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Shall we e'er be one like the moon

My love I know not where you be
nor if you love me verily.
I only know you like me now
for the moment, this present time
till we part ways like loving clouds
that drift apart in the wide sky.
Shall we e'er be one like the moon,
our hearts firmly together, our boon?
I hope so, for you are my dreams.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Gods love comes from the depths..the depths of our hearts
That’s how he planned it right from the start
God is love do you see??
His Spirit indwells you and me
So we can’t help but show love to those around
It is only love in us that is found
It comes automatically we don’t need to pretend
We’ll embrace those around us..become their true friend
Mans love is different it isn’t so deep 
There’s a mixture of self which sometimes leads to deceit
But Gods love is pure there’s no self at all
It thinks about others.. if you recall
Jesus showed us Gods when HE hung on the tree
He showed Gods love for all to see
When we are filled with Gods Spirit
People  can’t help but see
Jesus alive in you and me
The will see love of a different kind
The love that touches hearts and minds
That draws them to HIS Kingdom where they will enter in
To be touched by HIS grace and cleansed from their sin
It’s is only by Love the love of God 
That leads us to walk the path Jesus trod
Gods love comes from the depths..the depths of our hearts
That’s how HE planned it right from the start.
We cannot measure Gods love with our minds
We can only understand it with our spirit
God is spirit we need to connect Spirit to Spirit
To be able to understand HIM and HIS heart

Details | Prose Poetry | |


State of dazed and confusion 
Beating heavily upon my chest
Inhaling, exhaling I welcome 
The unprecedented weight of despair
Tighten around my lungs
As my esophagus becomes
 Enlarged with mucus and last nights meal
Repeatedly I flex my muscles
 To hold the retched stench within
Afraid of what will become
 Of me if it leaves me
I now am 
The dependent in this

Details | Prose Poetry | |


am so glad not sad
that we met my lifes set
becauses of you
and all  you do
and i confess
having you too

Details | Prose Poetry | |


We often have wishes for things beyond reach. Is this an implant in us? How is it that one has wishes? We are given what is needed to survive, and yet more is wanting. How does this come about? If you are complete then wishes are extra. Some are good and some are not. But no matter for we can keep or discard them at will. Just a test to know what one really needs. Basics are fine, but you need an extra to make you move forward. Wishes are good in that they make one whole. Even if no good comes of them. You follow the ones that lead to the better path. Wishes - God made, to make you on top. Wishes - God made not to make you stop. Go on with your wishes as you grow. It will become apparent that you are here and complete.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Grinning Tears That Held the Shade of Southern Suicides.

There was the capture of life somewhere inside his eyes...

We wiped away tears in the slipping of secrets, and I remembered the draw of suicide as
the shade of Southern Octobers grasped me in his glance.

He pursued me, his kiss and his smile the nets that tangled my feet up North, somewhere,
on I-95, his voice interrupted my destination and I supposed his face at midnight would be
my end, ironic, as he turned death....



We fed on control, that of ourselves, lost it in the snows that blanketed March, and
though I counted every one of my footprints, I only circled myself right back to him.

I never realized the nightmares that held me, the three a.m. teardrops that would stain
his perfect shoulders because my lips tasted that skin right before my last breath was
taken, in the seconds that proceeded the metamorphosis of life, and we took a turn to the
left as we discovered each other on the inside, and I felt that existing in the middle was

than never



He heard me, every catch in my voice, every lost word that floated in between the curtains
that we drew for safety, he agreed in the direction of sunrise, for who was I to argue
with silence and the sleep that occurred after I broke my most famous rule?

He wanted us to be normal as laughter interrupted me, as fear grasped my throat, and I
choked on my own words as the dictionary definition of life eluded me, and for those
seconds that threw honesty away, I remembered it was yet September, we were up North, and
the surrealism of tragic Southern October nights were but the embers that burned on the
edge of his 

snow-white cigarette

and the ashes of his exhalations

that scoffed impossibility at me with the hope

that the end would recall I-95

and the remembrance of his smile

at midnight.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Addicted

My life has dumps and learning experience
and pain but 
I had grown to understand that 
                             this is not the end
I feel that I answer a question 
that's been bothing me for so
now my life is smooth 
and almost all
now I have 
to heal this 
feeling that

spreads poison inside
bring back that power
and marvelous feelings 
that I once had for
                    me love stills a beautiful thing
its not hormlous its lovelous with addiction still
at harmful recovery 

body so a mude to the actions you

my thinking is you
and my body craved for
you my lips less tasteful
my heart is fighting every man that come close
 to the heart I shared with you
bring back you give me back what I need and thats 
you that keep my soul, world and life alive

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I am not handsome
So my love is not in my physique
Am not rich,
So my love is not bulging in my pocket
Only my brain is wild
And my mind is mild
A fanciful tunnel links both
Its walls,
Romance lurks and links close

Where a man’s treasure is
There you search out his heart
Mine locked you in as its treasure
A drop of tear from your eye
Is twin to a sword thrust through my heart.
My love is in you

Details | Prose Poetry | |

a love letter

Love is here, then and now;
often hidden, and hard to define.
I have won, and lost, and how
i long again to win your heart for mine.

if i gave up everything i had,
and stand alone in a place forbidden;
still my life wouldn't be so bad;
if i can hold within a hope unbidden.

For you.

i hope and pray, and pine away;
remembering moments gone, and treasured still.
there is no place my heart can run and play,
except around the thought of you, until

With you

in the past, i only knew that you were by my side.
but looking forward, to face our life together,
i missed moments of "your" life; now, wondering if "then",  you cried.
while my life was easy, the world light and airy as a feather. 

when "we" were one, yet i was "me"
tears wonder now, my love, who were "you"
maybe, it's to late, for selfishness was my reality
but today, love, i want to say, anew:

"i was never a "me", never a "we", never could been, or be
never the man, so self assured and confident, so free
never the me that i once was, never so worthy, never so happy
never what i value, never who i loved, never, ever,

could see;

myself, without looking through both our eyes, or through our peers;
and though back then you didn't cry;  there were seldom any tears.
now, i wonder, when i think of you,  as my vision clears,
thinking back, to that moment in time, the lonely and dismal; cheers

i once looked at you (and told you so),
with love, and gratitude.  i was overwhelmed by you.
laying next to me, in my bed and life, a moment quiet and slow.
i felt, deeper, higher, better, my spirit near heaven flew,

with love for you

i never can, never enough, or earnest and sincerely enow;
thank you enough, love you enough, to express my heart.
there is no human "how".
though i'll try again, and here's a start:

for what it's worth,
from "me"
you mean more, than the whole earth
and myself, in the past, that "he"

who didn't often enough look to the side,
and took for granted Gods gift. 
if i had it to do over again, you'd have been my bride.

i love you,
loved you;
never again will i be,
as happy.

as when "i" was "we"

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Concrete, Skinned Knees, and the Conclusion of Forever.

He grasped my fingers and I took a breath,

I counted to five and allowed my palms to sweat...

I stood, Converse clad feet turned inwards towards my opposite knees and thought about the
irony of plaid, I looked to rabbit ear shoelaces with tugs in the bows, and wondered...

how to make decisions.

Here we were and ankle length white skirts held the past in their hems, I fell beyond the
boat docks that became swallowed by the sea, once, twice, and someone told me, on a warm
afternoon in September where trees sheltered us from pouring rain, I spun on concrete as
if it couldn't break me....

I replied in a grinning whisper, words that danced through raindrops and giggled through

“No, it shatters.”

I shook in the moment I remembered with my heart first and my mind later, because I loved
him so much on that night that the words didn't matter and I spun as April melted
inbetween us and sheets held the skin that told my secrets, the tattoo who heard
everything, and she heard me sigh, she heard me...

smile when I slept...

the sound of him, the days flooded, I fell...

on concrete...

and skinned my knee, I studied the shade of my bruises and the tiny drops of blood, I got
up and wiped the dirt off my hands, I studied my palms and my fingers and counted to

f i v e...

months later, I swallowed his voice, I attacked the shame I had in holding onto him for so
long, and I changed my shoes, untied the laces and zipped up boots, whose black leather
hugged my calves, whose toes were scuffed from all the miles I had walked, ran, and bumped
into him...

and the hems of my jeans, frayed, and stained with the dirt that settles on...


rubbed up against his as I took his hand and looked down at the intricate patterns of the
way we held on...

I kissed him, then, when the rain stopped, and counted, as my teeth ran across the lips
that still tasted of his breath...

to one, and closed my eyes, to two, and opened them, and underneath the shadows that broke
the sky with my lashes, I reached...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost Love WLM March 29 2011

I feel so hurt
And so much like a jerk
For I have lost my dream
Just let it out and scream
What did I do
Can I ask you
Am I to be alone
All I can do is groan
I ask God will it ever be
Does she really want me
Please Lord let her call
For me to be that is all
I am so stuck in a rut
Do I just give up
Can not hold back the tears
The return of all my fears
I hope to see
That she really needs me
I will never know
For she will have to show
Can you give me my best friend
Or have I lost her again
Tell me did I sin
Should I just give in
I am at my wits end
Knowing not where to begin
I sit here and moan
At me just throw the heavy stone
Please, oh please hit the mark
Then I know it will break my heart
I always feel the use
Finally I remember the abuse
My feelings inside
Will never subside
Why not go ahead and fall
With my life just end it all
Does anyone really care
That would be so rare
For all I feel is lost
And in the end that is the cost

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Rocking Chairs

It's early in the morning 
The sun has yet to rise 
Daylight is still hidden 
In its dark disguise 
There is peace and solitude 
Nothing seems to stir 
Trees that stand tall and strong 
Still are nothing but a blur 
The coffee that I'm sipping 
Takes the chill out of the air 
Only sound that I hear 
Is the rocking of my chair 
We used to rock together 
Before the sun came up 
Sharing tea or coffee 
Each had our special cup 
Neither one of us 
Ever had to say word 
For just a little smile 
Every word was heard 
Yes It was a special time 
That I spent with you 
Rocking in our rocking chairs 
Was what we loved to do 
Now your chairs a rocking 
With the Man above 
But let me tell you sweetie 
Your still the one I love 
I rock here every morning 
Waiting for the sun rise 
Missing you so very much 
Tears flowing from eyes 
Soon we'll be together 
I'll be rocking next to you 
And If we're really lucky 
They'll be a chair that's built for two 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


By you everybody
you treat me like I'm an outcast
I tell you I'm only misunderstood
I'm normal, i can read, and write,
I'm not dumb.
You should know how it feels
to have people point and stare
"She's a Hoe they say."
yet I'm only
My family doesn't even know me
yes I love guys and girls
yes I love the way I dress
my clothes express me.
I'm only Misunderstood
by you & them
and sometimes

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Catie Lindseys "One Last Poem" with "Responce" by JHLovingIII

one last poem
You would never have to share me
If you would only claim me for your own
No one has touched me
I have friends
and then I have closer friends
But I love you
But leaving me
you gave me away
I cannot bear the pain
You speak as if you were the only one
who had things to forgive and forget
ButI femember a few things too, a few who's
"i'm only a man" was your lame excuse
"Your are more beautiful than the night"
"Winter is cold, you are warm"
and each of them wore different
feminine names.
I don't want to share either
Not your love. your desires, your body
any of it.
I deserve to be everything to a man
I deserve to be enough
So walking away at this late date
comes late for me
You left long ago
I cried for you to come back
My esteem lessened with each blow
each name
Still i love you and want you
but need to be enough for you
no fooling around
no games
no surprises

BY Catie Lindsey


i would'nt share you with anyone 
i would'nt share you with the world
or with one single solitary soul
and I ponder God himself
no one should touch you
lest you lose your reproach
but all my love
depends on this
all or nothing
you speak of friends
as if they were close relatives
as if you have the right 
to spend time alone
"Nay!" i am only a man
trust has foolishness out grown
i too reminess the things of the past
some too painfull 
to remember
having shared with 
kings and beggers
scorn and wrath
"He's just a friend."
such a lame excuse
how convienient and proper
for such use
for the crime of infidelity
men don't forgive
and they don't forget
it is a tormentor
that like the fires of hell
never go out
and violence to the soul
ruins the sane
Don't worry about my faults
worry about your own
i don't want to share you 
with anyone or anything
i want to be enough
but if walk away i must
on that you can trust
for a little bit of love
and a tiny bit of lust
my esteem destroyed
with one blow
and still i love and want you
 are you in 
or are you out
BY J H Loving III

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Finding Innocence in the Laughter That Escapes Pillowcases.

Behind the sun, with a little bit of assuredness, I saw the shades of his smile
swing toward the moon...
and I cursed six p.m. In a voice that hid the memories of
when I wore my shoes underneath the shadows of stars and in the feel of his lips
when sixteen is innocent despite the cold exposure
of skin.

I wonder if he knows I whisper to him in his sleep, my promises slipping underneath the
blanket he holds tight around him,
and feathers escape pillowcases when I laugh,
they tickle toes and dissolve the taste of fear
as my tongue finds the outline of his lips after the sun falls down and his
is apparent.

I tidy myself up on Mondays, and wreck the idea of perfection with my curls...
I wear jeans that smudge mountains across back pockets and imagine how the hem of my
burgandy dress would fall across chilled creek splashed rocks,
I wonder if I'd be able to stay pretty when my hands fall into mud and the wind attacks my
but he smiles, you see, when the sun falls...
he smiles when I change my clothes...
and he kisses me when my curls detest reality and Monday smirks at the idea of cleanliness
as my imagination drowns hems and rips fabric.

So I kick off my shoes with the idea that my toes can taste Tuesday and my feet can squash
the memories of
and revel in innocence as I discover
the cold exposure
of skin.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


                                         MY FEELINGS

                                 WHEN I'M WITH YOU
                                WORDS CAN'T DESCRIBE
                                 THE FEELING OF ECTASY
                                THAT DRIVES ME INTO A FRENZY
                                 BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS
                               TOUCHING, KISSING, CARESSING
                               ALL I WANT TO HEAR IS YOUR SCREAMS
                              OUR BODIES EXPOSED TO THE MOISTNESS OF
                                      EACH OTHER DRIP BY DRIP
                                ENTWINED IN THE HEAT OF PASSION
                                             SIP BY SIP

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Giving Trees 1

I went about to pray one day to Jesus, and as I looked around I gazed in my way upon a place a ways, afar, and so I could see the generous gapes of the giving trees, as so they are. Nestled down between the broken valley (of Gods’ open will). As they were one better for me to be seen, and in a greater measure and for the long standing passion of my fancy, still. For yes they are the one true rare beauty’s left in the way of this one most humble land. With the wholesome hearts and outstretched hands. As amid this... the ladder days of the Summers fall, they stand at their ready to provide their goodness to whom ever... may come to call. For they are open too for the many come a feathered wing. To bring for them the finer nature of a better thing. With one a purpose brought forth... by the way of an open heart, one so softly spoken. There they live for to serve God as they move in the way of the pureness, and by the way of the promise one given of His tender love, and devotion, and as well they are one better also as a haven, and as well... for the wisdom so honestly given and found to be well, within the nature, of the raven. As to offer, a sweeter fruit is what they bring. As to sway they dance. As in their joy they sing, and for the love of a life as so to renew. Another day has risen up and shines upon them mid sparkling morning dew, and if you were to hear them in the depths of your soul, you would have listened. As gingerly they move in unison. So as to shimmer in-their way together, as they glisten, and as for a gift for all. A grateful heart is for them their only passion. As it is in their way, and by our Lord God the Father, One so... (forever, fashioned.) “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.“ John 4:16 (New King James Version) I pick all of the Winter Holy days because I feel and believe this poem in its forming and message can be found in the very cruxes of each and every one of them, believing as well that in their conditioning's as they are, each are in and by their virtues all inclusive to the God of our Fathers, thereby entirely open to the reliance in and relevance of remaining in an honest state of consideration of the omnipotence, and purity of His blessings of Love, Mercy, Forgiveness, and Grace. In every branch, in the representation of the tree in this poem, I believe it is an honest telling of the true Love of God! Hyphens are so used for recording purposes for the disabled.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Flashes of memories and thoughts
 whirl around in my head 
until I can't take it anymore
I don’t know what's worse; 
memories of us together 
or the reality of him being dead

Laying together in a pile of leaves
walking in the rain 
making a mess instead of making cookies
long talks deep into the night
feeling wanted and knowing that I mattered
Lying alone in the park
 crying in the shower
not eating for long stretches of time
cutting myself off from family and friends
feeling lost and empty inside.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Meteoric warning of storm's danger, 
still awed nonetheless by its brute force.
And those giants along the tree line—
submitting to its dark, amorphous power—	
bow in the darting whip of its tongue
as though being torn to shreds by its teeth
and wilted by its breath is their portion.
The curtain of rain that follows in its wake
curries the earth and leaves it green, sunlight
glinting on wet, dusky boulders like the ones
you hauled in from the forest to surround
the flowerbeds. The rain so heavy it left
the lilies crushed, like my heart, ripped
from my breast that day you left, and I,
bowing like the line of trees in the rain. 

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I'm exposed when it comes to you
The mere presence of you makes me come unglued
My intentions are purposely and soley to get you in the nude
Don't mean to be rude
You sexually and mentally stimulate me with your attitude
confident that i can provide what you need like no other dude
When the time is right to get you in the mood
This love will be warm, gentle and one that will never bruise
When it comes to being
Exposed to you.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



   On Monday March 14th 2011, at 1:05 PM, I believe I was looking into the face and eyes of Death, as we drove to Her, school .

   I think I heard the voice and sounds of Death, on Monday March 14th 2011 at 1:15 PM as She tried to direct me past the entrance to Her class. 

   I felt the hands of Death, touch me as She turned away, leaving me standing there, heart in hand, bleeding profusely, no response, as she turned Her, back and walked away, not looking back . 

   3:40 PM and as I sat in the Henderson Mall, heart broken, feeling the pangs of regret, the Grim Reaper, cut into my chest, as I watched Lady Death, walk towards me with a look that said " die ", " go to hell " but the words that came out of Lady Death's, mouth were " such a serious look ! " and Her, response to my gift of apology ( flowers and a poem ) and my offer to give Her, a ride home where met with a curt response " I have something else to do " and She, was gone like the lights had been turned out, and then the Grim Reaper, plunged his scythe deep into my heart, twisting his blade with such aggression I could hardly breath as my lungs tightened up, my throat closed, my heart would not beat and my soul cried out in vain . 

   For eleven days I sat in the silences, looking into the casket, at this old fool, who, by his own hands, was killed, killed by his stupidity and thoughtless words. The evening of the eleventh day of my wake, a sweet, voice, from my memory, sang out to my dead ears, but the tones where sugarless and the lyrics where that of a dirge ringing out a death blow, as Lady Death, responded to " will I get to see you sometime ?" with a " maybe " and then " I have to go, I have things to do " and then the coffin lid came crashing down on my state of reverie, the dream shattered like a mirror struck by a meteor, shards, splinters, fragments fused together in twisted, distorted images of what once was ?, is ?, my dream, a dream that was not, is not Hers, and like Alice in Wonder Land, slipping through the looking glass, reality was not as it seemed, for one's reality, on the other side, may not be the reality of another. The visions, the desires, the dreams, one's perception, all, are but splinters of the holographic universe we inhabit, but have no control of. FATE ?, KARMA ?, THE GRAND DESIGN ?, BLIND CHOICES ? 

   Now I spend every hour of every day hanging on to the edges of my funeral, the wake, my spirit attends faithfully and from these, my mind will not let me escape . 

   I wonder if I will be able to step out from behind the looking glass ?, awake from my beautiful dream ?, face reality ?, reality reflected in those exotic, dark brown mirrors, the windows to your soul .

   My Lotus Blossom, my Oriental Dream, my China Doll, my Exquisite Vision of Loveliness, my Exotic Beauty, - she has left me with my own death mask to reflect upon as I look into the mirrors ( images of what I once experienced with Her, ) and see only ghostly figures ( She and me and all that we shared, all we experienced ) haunting all the moments that lie among the ashes of all the beautiful experiences we shared, experience I believe She, has placed upon a funeral pyre, set them on fire, no longer having a desire to even remember we once lived them, them that gave my life some purpose, gave me meaning, put a sparkle in these tired old eyes and a spring to the shuffle of this old mans step. For   Her, ????????????? 


Details | Prose Poetry | |


today I saw
a dog
he was missing a leg

like out of the blue
a tear was hobbling

his infirmity
has reminded to me 
how much ...

you are missing 
to myself  

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Love is truthful

Love is kind

Love is honest at the best of times

Love is peaceful

Love is right

Love gives you meaning to go towards the light

Love is courage

Love is strength

Love keeps you warm threw the night

Love keeps you alive when you can't fight

Love is breathe

Love is life

Love makes you want to fly

Love keeps you in it's arms at night so you don't have to hold your pillow tight

Love is arms 

Love is heart

Love is the touch you know is right

Love is special

Love is divine

Come let me hold you in these arms of mine......

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sunshine By WLM November 25, 2008

William L. Moore

Outside the sun is grand
In which I love to stand
Soaking up all the rays
Hope it stays this way for days

The breeze is cool
Like a shining Jewel 
The noise is so quiet
You wish you could buy it 

How heavenly I feel
It tis the real deal
The beauty abounds
As I walk around

The planes fly high
In the deep blue sky
Marking their time
Just follow the line

The tall trees that show
Will continue to grow
And are the trees we love to see
Glory Be!  We will jump up with Glee!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Always the Fool

Perusing the tomes of esoterica,
One truth I've learnt indeed,
Not one book contains it all.
There's always more to read.
Axiom mixed with allegory,
Abstract salt and misty sulphur.
Is this that famous alchemy?
I'll find the quintessence myself.
I wonder will my pupils burn,
Ere I see the salamander?
Peradventure I'll go blind,
Gazing at the flame.
Kundalini's far too painful,
No snakes I'll squeeze from there!
Keep the stick; I disdain your wand,
And those dowdy robes of rite.
You banish nought excepting creed,
So your mind can play in circles.
Dr Dee, did you notice,
Darkness in reflection?
Enoch's sigils say no more,
Arcane shapes that never shine.
Antiquated and obscure,
The like of which I can't define.
No Angels tap upon my pane,
I think they've lost their wings?
Or John and Eddy were insane,
Who can read their mirror?
I covet a theophany,
To behold an avatar.
But none have manifested yet,
Perhaps they are asleep?
I heard the Masons in cabal,
'Find the tent within thyself.'
Alas their holy pillars crumble,
When their master's meet.
Will I become the charioteer?
And overcome my obstacles.
Maybe the Tower's drawn for me,
'I'll see you at the bottom.'
To then be threshed by death himself,
Though his charger l won't fear.
Nor that upon his hasty heels,
For death is only transition.
A torchless Hermit I'll remain,
Engaged in futile rumination.
The change I will, will not occur,
Therefore the Fool forever I'll be.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Trapped in the maze of love

The young girls tour the countryside
with bosoms large and egos full of pride,
with noses stuck up in the thin air;
I see them all strutting down a dirt road
leading to a dead end;
as I stand lonely, trapped in the maze of love.
Lost I cannot find my way;
till I sit and listen to the songs of loving angels
they shine me a path of flowers and beauty,
as I follow, I'll soon be trapped no longer-
in that forbidden maze of love.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mr Wrong

Mr. Wrong

You’re not one of a kind
You smoke;
You get drunk,
You like wars

But you told me
You smoke because you felt nervous when you’re with me
You get drunk ‘coz you think I don’t love you
You like wars ‘coz you’ll fight for me.

My eyes told me too
I hate your lips,
I hate your eyes,
I hate how it looks at me.

But you told me more
You wish to kiss my lips
You love my sparkling eyes
That makes you driving you crazy.

I almost hate everything about you
You’re not attractive, not at all
But what makes it wrong?
You make my heart beats strong.

But you almost love everything about me
I attract you like no one ever did
That’s all for you what makes it right
You’re my Mr. Wrong, but I’m you’re Mr. Right.

Now I hate myself even more
But my heart told me so
I love you more and more
I love my Mr. Wrong

Details | Prose Poetry | |



I started the joke
I told I love you so
Yeah! I know it’s a joke
A big Joke! Joke! Joke!

A joke is half meant true
I learned that as time goes through
How can I fall for you?
I can’t find any reason too.

Pretending I love you is planned
But falling for you is beyond
You said I’m a liar, yes I lied
But please believe me now ‘coz all turned right.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Taste of Autumn Underneath the Words I Forgot to Speak.

I stopped and turned to look at who we were now, I fell in love with the distractions that
hid behind the sun when afternoon appeared in his eyes and I rolled mine back...

underneath my lids..

to allow time to kiss my lashes.

He held me, he stopped tomorrow from bruising my arms, the Autumn touching my tattoo, and
I could have stolen his lips just so I'd never have to let go of his smile.

I knew, behind the reasons I gave, that October was waiting, I was aware of fire and
touched the flames that became the fabric of my tongue, my teeth died when I spoke and I
tasted him...

to bring myself back to life.

I studied sunrise and wished for rainbows, I discovered the selfishness that lay in the
desire to sacrifice myself...

only to remember January...

only to know me...

only to touch the shade of blue that existed in his glance.

On the bottom of my lips I hold December and I tremble the month with the fear that goes
unspoken, I pray that tomorrow Autumn will touch me, I forget the possibilities of me and
throw myself over the edges of him...

the sweet corners of his smile...

and the promise of life...

to douse my tongue and speak the diaries of yesterday, to rewrite him and understand


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Where are you

I search the horizon near and far for your presence but where are you ?
I hear a whisper over my shoulder I look but where are you ?
I'm envisioning you alongside of me in search of happiness but where are you
My love is here for the taking but where are you ?
Just needing and wanting a special love in my life
Where are you ??

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Alongside Me

Not a message in a bottle...

As my heart looks out to sea...

...Each wave that crashes...The message I receive...

...Not my bonnie lies over the ocean...

...This gift, this love,

...Upon all sands...

...Stands alongside with me...

...Deep within ocean waves...

...To white surface spills...

...Like champagne corks in celebration thrills...

...Not my bonnie lies over the ocean...

This gift, this love,

...Upon all sands...

...Stands alongside with me...

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ballet In The Sky

The whole air is dancing-
     Ravenous thunder rumbles
        Lighting curls her jagged bolts
          flashing like gold through amythyst, sapphire skies

I'll not allow your image to spoil my view
   With you-rain would cry it's droplets 
          as it mumbled whispers to my haunted heart
               Oft' times-rolling clouds rumbled their voices in my soul


Now, I dance in scarlet flames that spark across the heavens
   gliding thru turquoise skies with copious clouds... 
       that delicately clothe my body             
           pirouetting gracefully ...
               to the peaceful harmonic rhythm of rolling thunder

My flesh no longer aches for your barren touch
   I shall not desire your hand opon my beautiful rain drenched skin
       whetted now with golden silken tears

My memory quickens...
      I no longer remember your face or hunger for your sterile love
         I'll not dance to your chaotic rhythm

Nature baited me with her sweet breath
     Embraced me in her loving arms-
         singing her gentle rain of tears

    baited me with your hook of selfish love

My heart now dances with another
     One who bathes my soul in fertile soil
         He feeds me with his hungry, selfless love...

   fed me worms with your stingy heart   

Details | Prose Poetry | |


It came upon me as a warm gust of wind
Never knowing where it came from
Never knowing where its been

Like a snow covered field glistening under a yellow moon
As the butterfly in early spring emerges from its cocoon

As the morning sun rises and kisses the earth
So it is with you, Love
And so it is you

Details | Prose Poetry | |


I lacked a lot of sleep these past couple of months.

and abandoned the routine I’ve grown so comfortable with

in this time by myself.

I didn’t realize how much slack was in my learning curve lately,

and I was starting to forget how incredible it is to wake up by

hairs being plucked from my arms.

Miracle workers.

My mother is the only one who saw me lose patience.

2 am on the wood floor, sweating like I just got done fighting.

Spewing out questions to God as fast

one would spit out sour milk.

Ground stomper. Neighbor waker.

A lot of people didn’t really like me talking to them during this time,

just like I didn’t like anybody talking to me

when I’m too busy worrying.

I was a jerk.

My swings get triggered far less than ever before

now that I’m more squared up with stability.

I’ve come a long way from a short fuse.

I sure am glad my brother was there to cover for me

while my sanity took a break, and

in the moments I had to check out

because the tantrums in my own mind got too loud.

My own thoughts, or yours. 

Together or separate. Relative or irrelevant.

It has been a roller coaster school year so far

for more reasons than are appropriate to detail herein.

Thank goodness for the true friends,

and the doors of her aunties house

and ice cream, and mindless television on soccer trips,

and family,

and people looking at me like a role model,

and the act of blowing on my little cousins belly,

and my skateboard, and Mother’s Day,

and having food, and graduations,

and getting lost sometimes,

and poetry slam night, and for Steven Brooks.

and for my elephant.

Really y’all, every last one.

L. Cohen said,

“And draw us near

and bind us tight

all your children here

in their rags of light

in our rags of light

all dressed to kill

and end this night

if it be your will.”

Details | Prose Poetry | |

fallen from grace to rise with new love

How you I would like to tell
that I you find exquisite
and would move the stars
to make our fates agree.
How I live alone, predestined
to fall from women's grace
and to rise again with new loves,
though I hope to find a love
eternal with me forever,
to tell her I love her,
and to bring heaven's wings
to guide and protect her.
How I her would love with all my heart
till the day I die in love with her,
till death's grips takes me away from her
rather than capriciousness.

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Smiles, Hope, Dreams
Joy, Anxiety, Hushed voices
The thrill of the unknown
I lay in wait…….

Opening my heart, ripping apart my sadness
Tugging and lifting my happiness
I know it’s finally here……..

Forgive me if I do not spare you time
Understand me when I smile brightly
The cloud of uncertainty is no more
The rain is gone and the SUN has come

I smile, she smiles
I coo, she coos
I now know she is mine and will always be

She fills my days with untold pleasures and joys
An angel redefined
A pinky in her own shade
The treasure that fits the dig….

She hopes, she smiles
She cries, she sighs
She dreams

“My hand will be your grip,
My feet will be your path,
My eyes will be your sight”
That is my promise.

Arise now!
For your day has come to ascend to occasion
Wear your crown with honor, MY FRIEND!!

Today I pass the challenge over; so you may be finer as:-
A woman, daughter, sister
And someday, Mother…….

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Beau lacrima -beautiful tears

She cried and she cried
and i tried and i tried
but she just cried and she cried 
and i pained and i cried
she told me its alright to die
but i kept holding on 
couldn't let her go
she just kept crying tears
some from anger some from sad
My heart dropped right then and there
she clutched my shirt and cried more
I held her there and smiled small
"mi amor,mi corozan,cry no more for you will always have me in your heart" 
I whispered in her ear as i kissed away her tears
she looked up at me and she made me swear that no matter what
i'd stay in her heart 
i told her i would and to never forget me 
as i told her this she cried some last tears
I stroked her cheek and kissed her tear
one last time i told her,your still beautiful when you cry
mi beau lacrima

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sunshine By WLM November 25, 2008

Outside the sun is grand
In which I love to stand
Soaking up all the rays
Hope it stays this way for days

The breeze is cool
Like a shining Jewel 
The noise is so quiet
You wish you could buy it 

How heavenly I feel
It tis the real deal
The beauty abounds
As I walk around

The planes fly high
In the deep blue sky
Marking their time
Just follow the line

The tall trees that show
Will continue to grow
And are the trees we love to see
Glory Be!  We will jump up with Glee!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

When you're just not thinking

Remorse is building up inside of me,
Everyone has to know fairy tales don’t always have happy endings,
Never thought you could try so hard and still fall short,
I’m in need of something to fill this hole in my chest,
It grows bigger,
Moving deeper,
Making me realize that some things can’t ever be achieved or obtained,
I’m gonna bottle up my heart and let it float out in the sea,
Never to be found,
Never to be seen,
No more pain can be caused when it’s somewhere at the bottom of the sea,
I need to face the fact that I’m going to lose everything if I keep on the path of my sanity,
I want to believe that things can only go up for me,
But that’s life,
Your gonna suffer,
Sitting in the corner rocking back and forth,
Head so low you can see caskets from the recently diseased,
It’ll be pouring showers from all the crying that’s going to be happening,
I know life might seem hard sometimes,
And trust me it is,
I know that shotgun looks shiner by the minute,
And trust me it does,
But just bottle up your heart and send it away,
Like I did,
Because no matter what you’re going through,
What might be going through your head right now,
Just isn’t worth it..

Details | Prose Poetry | |