Featuring: Leonora Galinta
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Go Of Them!
With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
my hands colored my childhood!
Like an architect,
my hands drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they?
They continue to sew and show the way
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
Painting hurtful images on dry wall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see.
With no words to say
I caress the sky line like a mime
My hands ride the wind,
My hands paint a world,
each of their own.
Young and pretty finger prints
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!
Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting I treasure forever in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth
Now your all grown up... :-(
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old you will hold my hands and remember the gold.
My hands paint many designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands felt images I can't describe
Made up moments of handicap when lost
My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.
they've been told
held so many times
always meeting, greeting,
waving hello's and goodbyes... ((you see my hands, they smile too))
Pinching my way through reality.
Reaching holding on to dreams.
Snapping fingers, we are a team.
My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
my hands touch and make a difference
my hands learned a lot
my hands prayed
and knew their duty.
My hands employed by me.
When they are bored,
they tap and tap and draw THAT' annoying noise.
My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can never reveal
they hold the past, present, and future in every line.
I extend my hands,
without flipping the bird
Thank you Hands!
I am enjoying the sign language show.
In my next life, or so
I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel...................
I can't believe with all the time I have on my hands.
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.
*I Will Cry*
If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?
I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am never at peace.
Every day I cry for grace.
Every day my tears engrave a large hole.
A rich perfume redolent of rain-
-the only stain in my soul.
What has become of the sun?
Where have all the stars gone?
I am a sinner!
A tapper on the roof,
I fell without angel wings!
A small ripple that splashed into the pavement crack.
I couldn't be saved!
I am a lonely bard
I have no song to sing.
This empty ballad is my home.
A feathers against the dying wind-
-my only expression.
I will cry'
Raindrops from the sky.
Tears from a simple narrow-minded girl,
Water wept into this sorrowful world.
I will cry’
A view you can’t erase,
A window you can’t shut;
Tears you can't brush.
I will cry'
A river that flows into the night of days.
I will cry'
like a child, and nobody can take that away.
I will cry- once more...
No one will ever care,
That I cried!
PS..... Please remember the smell of earth after rain.
Near feathers in the wind.
I stare as she slowly drifts into the shadows of yesterday.
She is not me
She is not you!
A theme, like morning upon a crystal view.
She is of the wind
She is of the sun
She is the moon
She is the magic in your eyes.
Tonight she sits on the calm waters of your reflection.
Tonight she makes love to you.
Tonight she listens and counts the rhythm in your heartbeat.
She is a thief and steals every single breath from your body and soul...
And Still -
She is the night air
She is the tranquil sound
She is perfect
She is mighty in your eyes.
You are the oceans
In you, she swims with trust.
You hold on to the tides,
You keep her feathers dry and warm.
You stray her away from the sadness in a lost dance.
The aches under her wings belong to the shade in your heart.
That is why-
She is the grace
She is the smile
She is the fire
She is everything in your eyes.
Graceful feathers in the wind.
The dream of dreams
She might be me!
She might be you!
"Till Death Do We Part."
-the symbol of everlasting love-
~ATLANTIS~ Featuring:) Kelly Deschler
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death,
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
-Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
ATLANTIS THE PARADISE
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
The shining light hides behind my eyes,
Comes in a super nova surprise
My spirit glides into the skies,
Spreading the perfect heat like the sunrise
I was like a diamond under the beauty of the ocean!
My current rides out with smooth motions,
Leaving a taste with intense emotion
Captured by my tides, sunk to my love potion
The sun sends my waves like a mirage of snow
I got the moon to favor upon my glow
With every star touching my inner soul
A glimpse of darkness in my light entwining with a massive flow
Blinded by my own ECLIPSE!
My sun & moon collide
Until the day we both touch lips
~Summer’s Eve ~
I am a woman!
I am proud-
I am everything you want.
The adoring wife,
A beautiful mother,
A grandmother a granddaughter
A daughter, a sister,
A lover, the aunt.
Your enemy, your friend.
I am the working lady.
A widow left behind.
The Spawn of Adam's rib-
A mentor throughout this world.
A lady with class, sometimes a material girl.
A flower, and the sound of rain.
I am the color of the rainbow.
I am deeper than the sea.
I am the pink ribbon you wear.
I am delicate like snow.
The sun and the moon in your eyes.
A twister during dark skies.
The Daughter of Eve-
And, here is the only feeling I want to endorse.
In honor and appreciation to all the women of the world.
Happy Mother’s day!
Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer
Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around.
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…
Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey
There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~
(for Catie's: Re-write contest..)
Coral life forms in myriad swarms
Feast in the Cambrian chyme
Dividing their cells and forming their shells
To end on the sea floor as lime
Tectonic churning and magma upturning
Renders marble whiter than bone
The marble is mined, but the cutters are blind
To the angel confined in the stone
A young sculptor arose, with a bend in his nose
And a transcendent creative spark
Charged with ambition to fulfill a commission
An angel for St. Dominc's Ark
An artist sublime who will live for all time
His genius is to see things not shown
For an angel to achieve he first has to perceive
Its splendor enclosed in the stone
At dawning's first glow he surveys the tableau
Of the blocks the stone cutters supplied
In some he sees dreams of potential themes
But only one traps an angel inside
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
As does failing to hear it and see it.”
The block that he chose was rejected by those
Who then lied and claimed to foresee it
With talent and skill he falls to with a will
Surrounded by rubble and relic
His method you see, for the angel to free
Is to remove all the bits not angelic
Michelangelo’s art for all time stands apart
But there's something further to heed
For there's a bit more to the fine metaphor
In the tale of the angel he freed
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
As does failing to hear it and see it.”
For in all our insides a bright angel abides
And is just waiting for something to free it
To remove all the parts which harden our hearts
And chip out the darkness and pride
To smooth the rough patches and polish the scratches
And unshackle the angel inside
Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.
Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow.
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.
Crying River (The Untold Ballad)
Undercover waters of rain dashing
The children are cold, no longer splashing
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem, -shallow basin
She cries, a tune,
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her winds, Pretty Chains O' Lake
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from its garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain
When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's awake during winter's rain torrents and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, icy cold naps, bayous shutting up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps
A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan