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Prose Poetry Relationship Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Relationship

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

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Rarely Spoken Words

Rarely Spoken Words 

Rarely Spoken Words
 
"Please forgive me, I was wrong" -- 
" when I thought I was right "....
 
If you ever hear those
rarely spoken words keep
them near your soul... 
 
If the person that spoke them without
coercing-stood strong against their ego- 
Liken to a rare jewel ,they are.
You can trust them to shine;

They have the fortitude of integrity
Which is the thread of friendship's lifeline
as they will be most unlikely to
deceive you in relationship's.
 
Those who be sprinkling fairy dust on their 
mistakes, are not really sorry,they will
wound you all over before you are-
recuperated they will injure you again. 
 
You need stay clear. 
 
Remove them like a dart in your heart.
 
From most you will never hear those 
 
"Rarely Spoken Words" 
 
I apologize"my fault- 
 
"My bad" - "You are right".

Unless spoken from a jail cell.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Oh God When I die

                                                 Oh God When I Die

                                      Oh God when I die please let me,
                                      See the sin's from past reality,
                                      And if my deeds out wiegh bad,
                                      Then let my soul feel glad.

                                      And if I die from a lier's shame,
                                      Please allow my shameful name,
                                      To be among the forgiven with pride,
                                      Knowing your grace has given me a guide 

                                      From death to light le me see,
                                      That eternity is my reward from thee,
                                      And infinite love of peace from you,
                                      For your promise is eternaly true.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"


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 | |

Somewhere over the rainbow

I had heard this song by an obscure artist, with a twist as it played verses 
of 'Somewhere over the rainbow, with 'What a wonderful' world entwined. 
It's simply melody strummed on a ukalele mesmerized me as I listened on the radio 
in the car.
I remember saying to my wife, "I want this at my funeral." I was morbidly honest 
that way.
Several years later, I was watching an episode of E.R. in which our favorite 
character, Dr. Green discovers he has brain cancer, and a short time to live. He's 
basically given the advice we all wish to avoid. "You don't have long, retire, enjoy 
the time you have left."
 Dr Green, plans a vacation with his daughter, who's relationship has been strained 
since his divorce. For the next three or four episodes Dr. Green and his daughter 
spend his last days surfing in Hawaii. Mending the relationship slowly, to a degree 
of understanding only a father and daughter could know. He's still Dad, and she's a 
teen working on letting go of her resentments.
In the last episode of the story, he's not doing well. He keeps passing out and his 
strength is waning. He knows it's only a matter of days, possibly hours; but doesn't 
share this with his daughter, the scenary is of a bungalo on the beach, white sands 
surround the openness of the primitive bungalo, palm trees speckle the beach, and 
in the distance lies the royal blue waters of the Pacific Ocean.
A day of surfing is suddenly changed as he suggests that his daughter go ahead of 
him, he'll stay back and watch until his strength returns. So he sits in a hammock, 
and watches out in the water as she strolls off to surf, Background music grows to 
this song I'd so loved, by and artist named Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo?ole and as the 
music is playing softly, the camera pans in on the face of Dr. Green for his death 
scene, and his last breath. The camera pulls back, from the back of his head, above 
the bungalo, above the beach as if we are Dr Green's soul departing this earth.
Yes, I cried like a little school girl as realized that my favorite character had just 
been erased from our show, with no chance to come back for a Cameo... What!? of 
course that's why I cried! OKAY! it was a tear jerker! and the saddest part, was the 
relationship with his daughter was still in repair . Moral of the story i guess-- You 
never know when its your time, so don't hold on to petty resentments, and love 
every minute of life.  

I later learned, Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo?ole; had also died






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 | |

Smile

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 | |

Waiting At Doctor's Office

Cody was questioning the lettering on the doctor's plaque on the wall..
He asked me to write letters in cursive which I did ...
He said that the plaque's lettering was not anything like cursive..
Then he wrote in cursive "Once upon a time"
I wrote: "there was"
He wrote: "a Granny"
I wrote: "Who had a Chihuahua named Princess"
He wrote: " They were so alike that they both even had the same spoiled look on their face.."
I wrote: " Princess wanted a new coat and a new harness so we went to PetSense to shop..Princess wanted a rhinestone studded harness and a sequined coat..Of course, she got what she wanted its no joke"..Ha!!!Ha!!!Ha!!

Cody came away empty handed..Ha!!!  

Just for fun...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Familiarity

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?
Or, 
maybe
you are staying
because 
    you 
        are 
           meant
                to 
                   stay.

Then,
stay.
If you may.
I pray.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be 
hiding, 
conspiring;
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 | |

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 | |

Patiently Waiting For The Right Answer

A friend to her, for decades from the innocence of children to the adventures of teenagers and even the stupidity of best friends all well shared and enjoyed to a point the gods ask why the wait and beg for the next level. He sees all the possibilities to make her the care-taker of his heart. Thinking he's the only one with eyes open he made his confession attached with an honest recommendation to his amazement she looked at him and said "you are so nice, but like a brother to me'. Switching to the next damsel who's no where near cold but soft, tender, meek and charming. He allows her control the pace and lets her gentleness maintain the tempo. Feeds her with poems and makes her drunk with happiness with hopes going higher, reaching the moon she looked at him and said "sorry! I am not yet ready". He jumped into the next wagon having an available space for a beauty and meets a potential 'second half' pretty, quiet and an introvert. Worships her right from day one letting lose the net of affection, half in magnitude of his efforts will strike the tenderness of a millepede but it got her scared as she looked at him and said "I just had a heart break; I'm so sorry" Watering a fresh new flower growing in a familiar garden just close by, makes him grow in creativity as he engage in constant words exchange and creating wonderful serenity around her. Huge investments and time well spent coupled with passionate research in equipping his machinery of jokes and laughter sums up his passion and carefulness in his latest trial which seems worthy of the medal. Constant updates on his outlook and becoming the number one specimen for fashion were not enough as she looked at him and said "You still have no swag" So many disappointments made him stronger, wiser and smarter not even a forest of wild beast will make him turn his back to the beauty and escapades of life. The moment he tried to pause, the period he wanted to take a nap; the Queen bee passed by. A simple hi and a conversation led to series of memorable meetings, having in mind, the worst is a "no" and her welcoming countenance, a proof to nothing yet, he asked with no expectation in mind then she looked at him and said "Yes! Sweet heart. I want to be your girl"


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 | |

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
							                                 finally
								                                   finally
know the closeness and comfort of love and honest, unabashed companionship.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Listening Closer to Myself

I give to you...
And you gave to me...
A rash, a fever, headache and the Flu...
I told you not to go without a coat...
And now you’ve got a very bad sore throat...
With fever and pain in all your muscles...
Coughing and sniffles, with draining from nostrils...
Tissues scattered all over the floor...
Bottles and pills from the drugstore...
Chicken soup is what I recommend...
But a sandwich also you did command...
And how about some chips and a nice cold brew...
For days I made you a priority...
Your every whim took seniority...
And then it happened, I started to sweat...
Became lethargic, and better yet...
You were over your bout with the Flu...
As I plopped my body onto the bed...
You stated you were going out to get something to eat...
So I could get some well deserved sleep...
As you closed the door, I heard you say...
Call me when you get better, OK ?
And that’s what brings me here today...
Perhaps I should listen closer to what I say...
" You should take better care of yourself ! “


 




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 
haze 
regardless of time,
Promises
to sign a sympathetic course 
for us in bloodless keys… 
and for the lost keys 
discarded,
to toe
the empty line
and reside 
in our unkempt places 

Yet reluctantly,
and 
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 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 | |

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......                                                                        
And...like no one steals my BLING !







Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Hope You Know I'll Always Love You

I am what you call a hopeless 
romantic,
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 
me
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 
flame,
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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

his touch is a drug

his touch is a drug
he saunters through my mind
i fill my lungs
breathing in his smell
his legs
his wrists
his shoulders
his skin
are beautiful
his eyes like the sky
he hides beneath his hat
beneath eyebrows
behind glasses
behind beard
behind dry wit
as if to keep out the
unwelcome
world
his wild hair
tangled and tousled
tells the truth
that he covers
his touch is a drug
and i want him


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE POWER OF YOU

When you laugh 
I will laugh with you
When you cry 
I will wipe away your tears
When you win the race 
I’m the one cheering the loudest
When you feeling down 
I will be there to cheer you up
When you’re ill
I will be your pill


The Power of You
How you love me, earnestly and sincerely
You in my life is my greatest achievement
I bless the day we met 
For you brought light to my life
Radiance on my face
The smile in my soul and depth of my heart 
The bounce in my step
The spin in my turn


The Power of you
Magnificent dynamic as you are
The coolness of my eyes 
Finally my King has arrived to meet
Magnificent dynamic as you are
The coolness of my eyes
More than just a name 
The strength of me in your palms
The moment we met I knew the truth
you are the sunshine on a rainy day
Neither of us will lead the way
Nor will either follow the other
Together we will lead the life we choose
Equal and complimenting the other
all because of the The Power of You 

© 2013 persiankhushi


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 | |

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.
"Goodbye."
-James Kelley 2011 ©


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Holy Passion

ALERT: A carpenter's son is loose in the Temple
Birds flutter, animals hustle, merchants scream.
The zeal for Jesus' Father's house consumes Him
As the place for foreigners to pray had become a zoo.
 
ALERT: A prophet is setting up for a Baal battle.
Baal's priests even cut themselves yet no fire.
After taunting, Elijah fills his altar with water.
Calling on God, fire consumes and people bow.
 
ALERT: An old man is building a huge boat ship.
Without a cloud in the sky and only son's to help.
When finished the animals come on call to board.
Rain starts, doors close – 8 saved by holy passion.
 
ALERT: Jesus is telling a tax collector he'll join him for dinner.
Heedless of the Pharisees despising and the crowd's surprise.
Zacchaeus totally changes – offering to multiply stolen money.
A single sinner saved multiplies even more this holy passion.
 
ALERT: Peter plus are preaching in the Temple again.
After being imprisoned for just that, now rearrested.
Whipped by the authorities, the disciples rejoice -
For they've been counted worthy to suffer with Christ.

ALERT: Daniel's praying openly even after it's become illegal.
The royal advisers gleefully have the king throw him to the lions.
Strangely they don't seem hungry till after Daniel is pulled out.
So the king openly praises Daniel's God for this amazing miracle.
 
DOUBLE ALERT: Jesus is talking to a Samaritan woman!!!!
Breaking cultural barriers to share the message of salvation
To her who has been married 5 times and is living with the 6th.
She believes he's the Messiah and brings the town to Christ!
 
ALERT: Paul's going back into the same town that stoned him.
He's preaching again after shipwreck, jail, beatings, and such.
Persecution seems to encourage Paul that he's doing the right.
Passionately following the Savior who turned Him 180 degrees.
 
ALERT: Bible translators burned at the stake for God's Word.
Missionaries avoid death and disease long enough to share life.
Stirring Holy Passion in receptive people who repeat the cycle.
Changing cultures in bondage into those sharing Jesus' love.
 
ALERT: What passion has the Lord put on your heart? Mine?
Can we pray to see His will find its way in our everyday lives
So the lost shall see, hear, find Christ and grow to share Him?
Eternity is forever, this life is not. Fill us Lord with holy passion.


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 | |

Silence

Silence                              
 

You took my breath away
Words I cannot say
You silenced my voice
Gave me no choice
But to be silent!
Say nothing at all
If I slip I might fall
Into that cycle that
Causes me to whisper
Forces me to reveal
What I refuse to.
Silence is golden
Maybe not, but silence is all I got.


By PatriciaMitchell-Templeton






Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Letter to TA

I told my therapist the story you told me
About the French student you tutored in high school
How she mispronounced words 
And kept accidentally saying,
“I want to f*ck” 
At that moment I’m sure you felt me blush 

I was hoping that story came out from your subconscious,
Perhaps an underlying crush

You should know I come to office hours
Just for more time beside you
I don't much need the help
After all, you keep giving me 98’s
And I’m not so sure I deserve those grades

I am only somewhat brilliant—
Barely as clever as they say

I tried to tell you that I was going to be a writer
Because I know that’s something you are, too
I saw the poem you published at your last school 
And oh, how I wish you knew
How absolutely perfect I am for you

In lab you always take my hand to show me how
I get clumsy when you’re around
But don’t mind redoing things throughout
The others must have it figured out

You touch me a little too often now

My friend suggested I turn in a quote
Kafka is who I naturally chose
But of course I feared it was not place
To mention the divine qualities in your face

You are a goddess even by name

Dear Athena—
I hope one day you will be mine
I’ve fallen hard for you in time.

--
Paraphrased quote by Franz Kafka from his letters to Milena:
"So many divine qualities mingle with the human ones in your dear face."

**PLEASE DO NOT LET HER EVER FIND THIS, GOOGLE! 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Contrast

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


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 | |

Crowded Buildings

I look across the tables filled with crowds of people and I see cliques, families, and couples. These are structures to me, under constant construction yet fully complete at the same time. There, stands pillars of popularity, supported by many butresses that cling on their every word. They are fastened together with nails of piercing laughter that could as easily be used to harm, but now are used to build up. These towers lack space for the smallest brick to be added, but are open enough to embrace another pillar of popularity equally as grand. I wouldn't fit in there. Near the monuments to 'fitting in', is a family. Facing each other, their backs create a wall that defend the home inside from outside intrusions. The eldest acts as a porticulus welcoming any brick of the same size and shape as the others but still screening out any foreign material from their inclusion. As they look toward each other, they believe that their bricks are all uniform and belong, but their wall is in fact spotted with misfit bricks and splatters of clashing paint. I wouldn't fit in there. By the window is a young couple, a pair of awkward and new pieces of lumber that don't match each other at all, yet they are cut to the same length. They are trying to glue themselves together and are under the false impression that the only way to do this is to leave absolutely no space between each other. The glue is fresh and the piece of lumber are not used to being adheased, but they are still fresh and plyable and they are intent on building their relationship. Given time, they too will become walls encircling homes with a heavy gate of their own. I wouldn't fit in there.

No one sits by me
I am better off alone
Here, by empty seats

It's okay. I'm alright, because from this vantage point I can observe. I see the groups and hear their conversations. I don't need to be a butress for one of the pilars of popularity. I don't need to be carved into the right shape for another wall. I don't need to impede the construction of a new building. I am content here, out of the way, surrounded by empty seats.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Once again Once More

Where to begin " proclaim its not you " just me
You were all I wished you could be
Will that help - set you free?
Please don’t beg, please don’t plea..

There’s no point in asking once again “why”
And you know me " I won’t lie
Gently cutting the cord, severing the tie
Whilst gently whispering my final “good bye”

We’ll always have these moments, imprinted and set
Lest you are worried that maybe I might forget
So there’s no need to curse the day we met
I promise I leave with no thoughts of regret

We gave it all " put in a good try
A heavy heart " a sad sigh
So I say my final “good bye”
Keeping my head held up high






Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Deepening

Take deep breaths and inhale love reborn.
Times ago in a place a meadowlark could not sing.
Recreate the romance and mend up all that was torn.
Within a unbreakable fortress a Queen reunites with her King.
Those dreams of falling towers are left far behind.
A refreshed phase of adoration carried on a crane type wing.
Though shaken but not broken are the toughened coils that bind.
The air bubbles of lives connected in a slow motion breeze.
Creatures from the deep emerge, an enamored heart restored.
In the eye intimacy with dangled fibers aimed to please.
A real life tale of the sorceress and the lord.
Dynamic forces beating odds and hailing pride.
The souls of them truly are willed to remain.
On a stallion of passion through enticing nights they ride.
Celebrate, celebrate a union made by amore' and pain.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Jumpers

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 | |

Gerrymandering

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 | |

Change

2 a.m. Up eating Cheetos 
writing with orange fingertips. 
The thesis is "why can't then be now" 
using "Coming to America" as a theme. 
What a queen I've found. 
Exploring where I've been. 
Wondering where I'm heading
 based on my current position. 
Triangulating how Niggas 
and niggers ended up being 
related to a black man. 
Some words I can't stand, 
but it must be said. 
Some religions need revision. 
Some sins don't need forgiving
This is the edited version of
 my perversion, 
only freaks could appreciate 
the rawest version. 
She deciphers my penmanship.  
My queen to be. 
Departed Africa only to assimilate 
in America's newest arrival.  
Social media.  
We're losing ourselves in it 
aren't we? 
Am I the only one who's questioning? 
I've come to the conclusion: 
what will be; will be. 
Finding peace in hell's descent.  
A plane crash with no evidence 
Ever notice how in your worst times 
you need her, but in good times 
you worry about better? 
Maybe it's just me thinking 
how then could be now. 
I've lost my innocence
but live guilt free
still collecting restitution
from who I used to be
Paid in full.
We hurt self more than 
anyone else.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Foryou

Icarus. Flying too close to the sun.
You and I
Beneath the snow of  ash you grab my hand,
We kiss. Lips taste of mist.
In the embrace
Our hair blankets gray, reeking of gasoline.

A naïve flame, a spark 
It cannot touch us
We choose when, to calm the waters
When to ignite the flames, when to,
Put it to rest in favor of the waves

Pulling us down into the white, the maelstrom,
They still.
And our lips scald the others.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Coup D'etat

You’re the stain that scars the silence
Evidently echoed in everyone’s eyes
The whispers articulate the evidence
That results in my elegant demise.

It is the shadow that tailgates the night
Annihilating every anchor I have in sight
The catalyst that induced instant confusion
Right from the start of your epic intrusion

The remains of your anarchy are engraved
Unrepentant steadfast they remain
So I surrender seeking shelter for my shame
Allowing only my suspicions to be displayed

I will watch as they crown and cloak you King
Audience the occasion and applaud your victory
Watch as they bow down as kiss your ring
But I solemnly swear I will not repeat history