I see you looking at me
There is an old pang in my chest
there where your hands used to caress
where your lips loved to roam
there where you called your home
There is an old flutter now
What is that in your eyes?
Is it real or just a disguise?
I see you looking at me
No, it can’t be
And in that instant your memory consumes me
A roaring fire lighting the room
Shadows dancing on the walls
We are drunk on desire
.....caressing your breasts
.....kissing your body
.....tasting your love upon my tongue
Unbelievable . . . panic seizes me
Don’t look at her -- flee
But in that moment my shattered heart
Leaps with joy
I see your eyes
....and I feel the earth
....moan with delight
I wish the world would go away
How can this be?
It must be a dream...
I turn away from your stare
Look down at my shaking hands
I need to think....
Why now? Why here?
Out of nowhere…you appear
Oh, but....I want you
I sneak another peak
As my mind brings to my eyes the memories
It seems just yesterday
you looked at me that way
....when you undressed me
....when you caressed me
....when you made me understand
how a body can speak
the language of love
has my body spoken
with the same eloquence
That language I first learned with you
I want you
But....the pain won't go away
you were too proud to say,
Oh....but my lips are getting moist
hungering for your kiss
I look your way
My heart will give me away
Thundering in joy
It won’t be still!
.....Let me think
.....Let me THINK!
Oh...Oh...but....I want you
Here you are….
You’ve made it over to me
Here you stand
Looking down at me…
Reaching for me….
Taking you into my arms – lifting
Your eyes -- dark pools of honey
Your lips – full . . . moist . . . inviting
Our bodies embrace – I am home
My prayers for another chance – answered by your kiss
Our words tumble over each other
Tears, laughter, kisses . . . relief
My beautiful darling – I’ve missed you
....the way you look at me
Making love until the dawn
Our bodies intertwined
My head resting upon your breasts
Listing to the rhythm of your heart – my heart
How beautiful you are my darling –
Your love is fragrant and radiant
Filling my heart with light . . .
Look – I am glowing from within . . .
I feel a stiffness creeping into your body
WHAT – fear seizes me – I can’t breath
My darling – abandon the hurt, the pain I have caused . .
I am on my knees begging
How can I prove my love –
earn your trust?
I won’t leave – never again!
I love you
you . . .
What if you hurt me again?
This time....I won't recover
This time….I won’t survive
It has taken so long
for this heart to mend
Down on your knees
Your eyes plead
I see the tears gather
Can I risk it?
But then again
Can I risk going back to the emptiness
that you left behind
A life without you
was only days and nights
of longing...for you
My fingers reach
For those unruly strands of hair
You turn your face into my palm
Planting a kiss
Your arms go around my waist
as you rest your head against my body
We're lost to the world
You're finally home
I bend down to whisper
"Stand up and walk me home
There is a language….
I want to hear your speak to me.”
And that night
In our hungry bed
The eloquence of our shared language
The body syllables of desire
The sound units of passion
The language of our love
Was heard by the world
The story of a chance encounter between two old lovers
~~~~~~~~~Love lost and love found~~~~~~~~~~
A Collaboration by David Meade and Eileen Manassian
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
"What do we have for breakfast?"
"Lettuce and cabbage juice!" she
She had forced him to change
his blue pajamas to green
pajamas, then he returns
to bed -
the bed had to have green sheets,
green bed cover, and a green
"Why do you do this to me?!" he asks.
"I was born in St. Patrick's Day!!!"
He can't wait for a green light
to escape a world where
everything he hates is green.
He's afraid he's lost her love in the greenness....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
For years she thought his heart would warm up,
and open the door for her world. It felt like walking
in summer clothes in the north pole,
whenever she touched his chest;
she couldn't sigh, breathe or move.
It's as though he was afraid her hands would
melt his frozen heart,
and unravel his secrets.
Sometimes she joked, and asked him whether
he was an Iceman in his past life,
which he shrugged off,
as hailstorms gathered in his eyes.
Every day the space between them was becoming colder
and wider; she couldn't tell between winter
and summer anymore.....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
Today we begin with a quote from Eisenstein
with commentary in brackets
informed by Bucky Fuller's cooperative metaphysic
of Synergetic Steerage.
"We have a[n intuited, autonomic systemic] need to stay in contact with people with whom we share emotional and economic ties. In past times, these people were usually close by. A hunter-gatherer or fourteenth-century Russian peasant would have had little use for a telephone. Telephones [and www] began to meet a need only when other developments in technology and culture spread human beings [even] farther apart and splintered extended families [and neighborhoods] and [national through] local communities [as sustainable ecosystems]. So the basic need they meet is not something new under the sun." [Basic cooperative communication need has evolved to global cooperative scale because technology's deductive path has evolved a co-arising economic/ecological imperative.]
What Plan B Fuller eco-comprehended
as an implied Universal First Principle of Positive Synergetic Balance:
all Primal Principles
must be universally co-informed,
"cooperative" defined as ergodically and ionically regenerating full-fractal,
to achieve integrative,
Spaceship Earth synergetic wealth optimization,
as sustainability of positive life-trend energy,
and revolutionary ecocultural dialectal design
and ectosymbiotic/endosymbiotic correlational landscape evolution
toward health and safety
away from pathology
and high risk economically illogical dissonance,
suboptimizing polycultural outcome planning
and therefore delivery of co-empathic mindbody dis-ease,
chronic stress with climatic paranoid peaks trending upward.
Economists and eco-nomists recognize
production of newly commodifying need-systems
with creation of consumptive/absorptive/nutritional evolution
of need v. want constellations and priorities.
The difference between a Plan A Competitive
Win-Lose need-based economist,
and a Plan B Cooperative
Win-Win gift-rooted eco-nomialist,
strategist and logician and linguist,
policy and planning analyst,
sacred matriarchal ethological ecologist,
is Left-Right dipolar balance as negatively correlated with cognitive dissonance;
deep-learning comprehension instead
of Win-Lose as suboptimizing health and wealth
compares to a work-toward midway
double-negatively reiterating thermostat,
decompositional analysis trending
reverse hierarchical tree
of unfolding regenerative, resonating flow strings,
including binary trend QBit 0=squared/fractal-centric time as function
of mutual subsidiarity positive-default comprehension
as Win-Win bicameral informational system's
and permacultural uracil-yang/cytosine-yinyin
b-ionically deductive/inductive zeroistic design.
We can approach the further
question of optimizing Polynomial syntax and form and function
as equivalently and dipolar self-defined by -(-P),
binary RNA syntax
of analogical economic polynomial trend QByte-octave
double/elliptical fractal rhythm and patterned balance.
We might pose this question
with fractally 0-squared digital information
as ecological trend analysis
with a dual hypothesis,
to see which is more productive
of a healthy and wealthy past,
We could observe
that the proposition
is non-equivalent to Not-Polynomial Information"
has been our scientific deductive and metric
analytically encultured eisegetical assumption,
leading to competitive irresolution
through our own default Win-Lose economics of evolutionary demise.
in this irrationally eternal place,
we cannot deductively explain
why some issues,
have resonantly resolvable solutions
and scientific revolutions
while others calculate their way through infinite time.
Which is which is rather like trying to separate Kuhnian primal revolutions
from more normatively diversifying further individuating refinements
within paradigm freedom's double-binding continuous flow evolutions.
we start with the heuristic assumption
that Polynomial spacetime universe =
where might this take us toward explaining
ecological, and perhaps even cosmological
Cooperative Game Theory:
P-positive Win = (-,-) equivalent Win NP,
a positive draw,
anticipating an equally positive draw choice from nondual Other
is RNA-rooted naturally systemic,
with outcome to co-redeem at-onement faith
both positively and cooperatively
as long as every co-empathic truster chooses to play nice.
Group Binomial (0)-Soul Theory:
Explicate Convex Boundary +P = +(0)
Implicate (Bohm) Concave Double-Bound NP = -(-0).
And, so, to our deductively metric and commodifying friends
at Clay Math Institute,
at least the field of permacultural design
and all the cells of RNA heritage,
appear premised on a Zero-Binomial Assumption
that P-yangspace = N(NP)-yinyintime = +/-C ecosquared
as c-squared Universe equals e-squared Synergetic Balanced Integrity (Unitarian),
the balance of deductively formal Yang light
with inductively flowing YinYin double-bound octave frequency harmonics,
co-arising form with intuitive-polypathic ego/eco-conscious bilateral function.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
S T A G N A T E D
A snake chill suddenly crawl in his spine when he heard her words. Icy sweats ran to his brows. He was astound! Tongue-tied. How else could he have reacted? It was definitely not an issue to take so lightly. He couldn't just laugh about it...
"Hey!!!", the tap on his shoulder awaken his flying thoughts, "Did you hear me?", she asked him. "Uh... Oh yes of course", he stuttered. "So? What now?", she said.
He pocketed his hands and started walking away. He was expecting her to nag but this time no, all she did is to calmly bid him good bye and headed to school as for him, slowly he is digesting and digesting her revelation. He was terribly unprepared. Yes... he loves her much. He even thinks she's the one but not this time for he isn't yet ready to give-up his life but--- what life?
WHAT LIFE?! He asked himself and thought his weekends, over-drinking booze til he drops dead. Puffing like a chimney and listening to music and dance with every girl he met.
"oh yes! Yeah, that is life..." He replied to himself. He is a free spirit; he has been since he stopped entering school for what the heck! He has his hard-working parents to support him..."What the hell happened?!", he asked, telling down to his pant's zipper: "How could we have this one slip?"
"Abort it?!", she stared at him composed and breathe: "Are you sure?"
"It's for the best Tisha", he said without remorse. He grabbed her hands and hugged her tight saying: "let's just enjoy being us without thinking of any responsibility around".
Tisha looking to the ground decided: "I guess that's how it's gonna be... so okay." They agreed to abort the unborn on it's second month.
Before that day came, he continued his own routine as if no abortion will about to happen. He spent everyday gallivanting, filling his stomach with alcohol and his lungs he feeds with nicotine. His weekend nights spent with various girls even if this the reason of their fights.
The day finally came. Standing on the sidewalk, he was awaiting for Tisha who was forty minutes late. After being soaked under the sun, she showed up. He grin at her while she was still meters far. She smiled back while saying: "I decided to keep it."
"Wha---? Tisha, are you crazt?!" he barked, "how will we -- I mean, how will I --?"
"I didn't say 'we' will keep it, Baron!", she cut him off. "It's just me"
Baron gave out a sarcastic smile, "What? You're breaking up with me?", his voice shaky. "why?", he asked holding her shoulders while looking intently at her.
"Tisha, you know I love you.. When this is all over, it'll be like on the old days again. We'll be happy and free, doing everything we want.", he begs like a dog pleading to his master to stay. She avoided his eyes and shrugged his hands off her shoulders.
"then what?!", she screamed to "do it all over again, get myself pregnant again? Have the baby aborted--AGAIN? I'm sick of this Baron.. Sick of us.. Look at me I'm changing but you ?! You choose to stay the way you are: irresponsible and insensitive!!! It's getting stagnated for us. Baron!
She turned away and yelled: "I'm going for my future Baron with this child and you are not forced to come. It's over Baron.", then she left.
He was left alone, dumbfounded...
9:40 pm . July 01, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
Extraordinaire, he raised the ice.
He told me this when I was a child.
He said he heard his neck pop.
He laughed and said, “That stopped my dare devil’s persona.
As you see, I am short.
I liked to participate in a dare devil’s sport when I was young”.
He went further into his exploration.
He said he worked at the ice house and was challenged.
If he could rise up ice with teeth, he would be paid graciously.
He would not disclose the amount.
However, he won the challenge.
Therein, his neck snapped.
The ice was hoisted to the sky.
I asked what happen next.
He said he drop the ice and it hit the floor like a brick.
Herein, the ice splits in two.
How is anima doing?
He was rushed to the Emergency Room.
Maybe he became paralyze pro tem.
What he shared is what I have given.
He died in nineteen hundred and eighty-three.
This is in remembrance of anima.
Down the alley’s road stood an old stucco house.
In the yard stood a fig tree.
Adjacent to, was Aunt Donnie’s home.
Both lawns were kept by nature splendidly.
Beautiful flowers grew during the fall and the spring.
Summertime was buzzing.
I would visit anima and often see Aunt Donnie.
He loved his Wild Irish Rose.
Even more so, the Depot was where he went for shade.
He would say he needed to stretch his legs.
True to his inner self, his moniker statured him among goliaths.
To put it another way, would be a lie.
This is written as a celebration of life.
Penned April 18, 2015!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015
From Bitter to Sweet
From one who knows.
The pain of separation – divorce. One friend said, “death”
would be easier. The husband of my youth. There were happier
times. Fleeting memories, of laughter, sunshine and lingering kisses,
pictures, walks, talking, discussing all things. As thoughts rushed through my mind
of the day we eloped to be married, oh, we thought, we knew it all.
We had the world by the tail, why did it fall apart?
The fact, people and circumstances change.
For me – I was the mother of four children; I was forced to grow up
with my children. For him, he had a desire to remain young and
But children bring responsibility. Little ones depend on you and you are so
busy just trying to live. Dinners to fix, groceries to buy. Bills to pay, children
to raise and love.
Then the years pass, you realize that he doesn’t love you, he never really did. He
doesn’t know what love really is, and never did or ever will. He thought
that lust was love. What do you do? You have little ones now. You’ve
never worked outside your home. You don’t have any money. Your
health is not good, are you trapped? Do you stick it out? Do you run
away? Do you give up? What about your babies?
It was then; I found new life in Jesus Christ. I found hope for tomorrow and
help for today. I found more love and acceptance than I had ever known.
I found a new way when there was no way. I found a door of hope for
my children. Did he?
Unfortunately, no! He hated the Christ in me and told me so. The more that
Jesus loved him through me, the more he hated me.
But, you think that the LORD will change him. You pray and fast for him.
You love him with God’s love. You stand on the Word of God for him
to be saved. Surely, everything will be all right.
But, it falls apart, he wants to leave. He is taken out of your life. You feel
anger, you feel despair, and you feel so all alone. Then, you’re angry of how
he really treated you. You didn’t know how bad it was until he was gone.
But now, you know that is where God’s precious Spirit takes over.
You pray, Father God take this anger away. Father, I don’t want to lose You
to, and Your fellowship and with my Jesus and Your Spirit! I’ve lost my
mate that was terrible but, Father if I lose You, I will die!
Our God is so Faithful! You cry out for help and for His strength to forgive
this husband of your youth. Two months, no change it seems, the anger is still
there, but six months now and there is a precious healing and the anger is
gone. Forgiveness replaces it! Oh the Love of the Master!
You learn again, God’s mercy is so great! What you clung to was really killing
you. You wanted to believe only good. You wanted to see only good things.
You were lying to yourself. But, seeing with God’s eyes slows us to see the bad to.
Your life had become something with a bitter flavor. God wanted a sweet flavor
and a sweet incense unto Him.
How hard it is to love and show His precious love to others when you’re being
stung all of the time. Always in pain. Always bearing a broken heart within.
But, oh the sweetness of deliverance. The joy of broken shackles, for the bitterness
of imprisonment falls off when you’ve been totally set free. Your life truly turns
from bitter to sweet.
Written by: Marilyn Jennings
Copyright © Marilyn Jennings | Year Posted 2015
My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Do you ever have these thoughts?
These scenarios that play on in your mind?
They haven’t exactly happened yet but in your heart you wish they would
Could just be a simple conversation back and forth
A glance across the table when our eyes seem to meet
The way you gently place your hand on the small of my back as we enter the restaurant
Driving down a road with no destination with music up high
The windows down low
When I'm in the middle of saying something and you stop me in my tracks and kiss me
It’s always these little movie clips
These small moments that may be simple gestures but seem to leave the most impact and make you feel weightless
Then reality hits and I find that a smile of pure joy has appeared on my face
Copyright © Madison Mittelbrun | Year Posted 2014
Hear it chugging and tasle
The sun has gone down
Twilight, is still not dark
Small steps ... chugging and tasle
The dog is standing still
Sniffing and listening
Sounds comes closer
A small ball comes out of the bushes
My favorite toy, the dog thinking
Sticking her nose up ..... but ...
The ball is full of sticking spines
it makes a hissing sound
Hedgehog will not play with the dog
A-L Andresen :) - This is my dog "Maya" :))
(5th in the contest)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
I barely knew him,
met him through a friend,
saw him at a birthday party,
and my friend told me he really liked me.
I went to treatment for an eating disorder
before we started talking.
The emptiness in my stomach from the anorexia
told me it might be beneficial to get to know him.
He told me he would be there for me when I returned.
I came home with healed scars and forgotten innocence.
He called me one night, drunk,
telling me his cousin had died from a heroin overdose.
I couldn’t help but feel sad for him.
We met on the bridge
that crosses the canal between our houses.
A beer in his hand
he slurred his words and cried to me.
I didn’t know his middle name yet,
not his address or how many siblings he had.
I liked his facial scruff,
and the way he cried to me
without even knowing how to correctly pronounce my last name.
I stayed until 5 am.
Laying on his couch,
just starting to get to know each other.
We fell in love.
For eleven months if my memory is right.
We smoked Marlboro Reds together
on his front porch red cushioned swing.
He protected me from my demons,
kind of like how a barbed wire fence
protects the inmates from making mistakes.
He was my first love.
We wrote daises of words on paper
and he drew his love with a pen on my heart.
It ended the day my cousin’s grandmother died.
I never realized that our relationship
started and ended with death.
Maybe that is why in the end we were so bitter.
Copyright © Katie Pukash | Year Posted 2013
What my Daddy Taught Me
We should never underestimate what our parents are teaching us, either by spoken words, body language, or modeling. So often, it is from what they don’t say that we learn the most. Daddy died when I was thirteen, and one of my best memories is when dad would take us to visit his three sisters that lived within 50 miles of us.
One of daddy’s sisters lived in the same town as did we, and on weekends dad would take us boys to visit and spend a night at her home. We always enjoyed playing cowboys and watching television.
Dad's other sister had a farm and lived in a big house. The big house and yard always provided us with lots of fun. I remember the family sitting around laughing and talking while a wonderful dinner was being prepared. Those sweet aromas from that kitchen triggered every sensory nerve in our little bodies.
My dad’s other sister lived several miles away, and her family was always happy to see us come to visit and share a wonderful time together. We always had great fun, rich fellowship, and good tasty food.
Dad was planting seeds of family life, realizing that the family seed must never die. He worked hard making sure that we were properly nourished and cared for, but he knew that there was more to life than working. He thrived to nourish our lives by showing us the eternal values of family.
At one Aunt's funeral in 2004, a cousin walked over and said, “Hi Curtis”. I could not believe that he remembered me from 40 years before. The fact that I wore glasses and was full bearded, did not disguise me in the least. Dad had planted seeds that would produce a massive harvest. The harvest was one of many “magical moments”, like the one in which my cousin remembered me.
Daddy saw us in the distance; and those "moments" were cleverly designed by him more than a generation before. Dad knew that they were building a vast family treasure chest. No, this treasure wasn’t a big bank account, or cars, or houses, or land. No, he didn’t fill this treasure chest with gold, silver, brass, or dollar bills. When we gathered for fun, food, and fellowship, dad was laying a foundation for an indestructible treasure. He was building a legacy that would not be devastated by fires, or ruined by floods, or swallowed by earthquakes, or wiped out by the stock market. Making enduring family memories, he was teaching us the value of family. 061907 (Condensed 12302015 for PS Contest about Daddies)
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015
She looked so beautiful
in her evening dress -
her perfume blended so well
like a jigsaw pattern,
together with her smile.
I hugged her,
and kissed her cheeks.
My girlfriend witnessed the entire act;
she threw our Valentine's cake
at my face - that's not how
I anticipated to enjoy the cake,
like Christmas snowballs....
Her body swayed like a wrecking ball,
as she stormed out of the party. For a
moment the room was dead silent - no
sound of music, glasses, or conversations
in the air, not even whispers of gossip.
My girlfriend didn't know that I was
having a moment with my sister.....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
It was New Years' Day and the rain was pouring. The plans I made for were ruined by the rain. He must have noticed I was cold because I felt his silky leather jacket being draped across my bare shoulders. I looked over and saw him smiling at me. I caught myself blushing then looked away. Shyly I broke the silence. "I'm really sorry. I had this big day planned for us but," I paused, "I forgot to check the weather." Before I could continue blaming myself his finger tips led my face perfect plush lips. When we kissed, it was like Heaven on Earth. He told me something I'll never forget. Kneeling down on one knee, he looked up and grabbed my hand. The words still play like a song in my head. "Will you marry me?" Tears poured down my face. I was so excited the words got stuck in my throat. So I nodded instead. He picked me up, spun me around, then we kissed. There was so much passion we felt the sparks between our closed lips. This was truly the perfect day.
Copyright © Gwendolyn Coffey | Year Posted 2013
Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle
It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die
She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward
The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true
Next: My Story Telling, Who is this Princess
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
He could see words,
but could not read what she had written.
A paragraph was as difficult as deciphering
telegraph dots for the first time. Cluelessness
was washed all over his face.
"Honey, what is this?" he asked.
"A letter written for you," she replied.
She could tell from his face he couldn't read
the language of the heart. She had to make him
Collected every word and every letter,
minced them up in her thoughts,
and read them aloud to him.
He was devastated. The clues were all there standing
right in front of him; a suitcase and cold hands.
She was leaving him. They didn't speak the same language...
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
Tears of a woman,
can move mountains;
Everest can migrate
across the Pacific
and settle on the Rockies
The Kilimanjaro can fly
and squat on Andes
because of her tears;
the tears of a woman
can irrigate the Sahara.
Her tears can create oasis,
where nature could not
Tears of a woman,
can be a blessing
tears of a woman
can be a curse.
Empires have risen,
empires have fallen,
the impotent have risen
the great have fallen
due to tears of a woman.
A woman’s weakness
is her strength,
and her strength,
Come along and listen
Put your hands
in your mouth
let your eyes twinkle
with wonder and dismay
of the universe
in her eyes.
Her life spells
but the world
tinkles on and on
not without her
Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2016
She is so typical
For most part difficult
I never really could grasp her in such way
She just wants me to some how stay
She comes to my man cave and makes me obey
Shy she was and now I am scared
In such way I almost cared
She thinks she can do everything for me I swear
She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening
So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Naomi and her family departed from Bethleham Judah the land of milk and honey
in the midst of a famine as they were unable to earn any money
so on to the region of Moab they ventured and prospered to some degree
until Naomi lost her husband and both sons and was left alone to grieve
to her daughters-in-law she told them both to their families they should go back
but one daughter-in-law Ruth refused to let their relationship come under attack
she told Naomi I will never leave you nor forsake you
I will stay by your side no matter what we have to go through
your people will be my people, your God will be my God
and wherever you choose to travel you and I will never part
with loyalty, love and devotion Ruth needed Naomi in her life
in order for her to develop a relationship with our Lord Christ
now worshipping God together placing their fate in His hands
for this was a divine hook-up that the Lord our God had planned
Now Naomi needed Ruth too but was too afraid to admit it
as she felt she had been forsaken by the presence of the Holy Spirit
but God was in the midst of that relationship from the very start
He had destined that Ruth and Naomi would never, ever part
for when women worship God great relationships are made in life
with loyalty, love and devotion in the name of Jesus the Christ
In the course of your life there will be people whom you need and require
to help you to be all that you can be in the way that God desires
the clarifiers in your life will help you to see what is your mission
the collaborators in your life will encourage you to come to a decision
the confronters in your life will nag you and stay in your face
while the comforters in your life if they're of God will help you find your place
then the celebrators in your life will help you to rejoice in your victory
with the spirit of love, devotion and a godly loyalty
Now Ruth went on to get remarried but kept Naomi as a member of her household
for their relationship was a divine hook-up that was under God's control
for when women worship God great relationships last an eternity
Naomi and Ruth a divine hook-up of love, devotion and loyalty
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2011
So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.
Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.
Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."
Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.
Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.
And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...
"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.
I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.
You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
True love and frustration,
Songs of my heart,
On being a woman. Why?
I love you. That’s why.
May I? What?
Have more pain?
I cannot avoid the trigger, I….
Just cannot. Sorry.
Too often, an outbreak,
When I simply cannot
Avoid the trigger. Who?
The trigger is you.
Waving my flag, we both play our part.
“Don’t matter what you do, Little Darlin’
Wave your flag, stomp your feet.”
The trigger, the frustration.
Look, everybody makes mistakes.
Pain is a witch’s brew,
No coincidence there,
No bad luck.
So intense. Interesting.
In several, colorful ways.
What about you? Are you angry?
Insecure, finding fault.
Can’t recall a single day?
It may hurt, but there is
A new season upon me.
Other people, not always
The problem, sometimes
It is me.
The end result.
Still worth it?
Is that how you see me?
It will not be easy for you.
Blindly I strike back,
The nearer you approach.
Even as I demand it of you.
Irrational, fighting what I seek.
Underneath my mask…weak,
But there, you,
Just might find my love,
Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016
So burdened by a crushing silence more weightier than words
born from likened mirrored thoughts
These reflections shown in slackened hunches
They come to bear such cruelty
Carried with this certainty , seen darkly down and dragging
in the fell of fallen shoulders
Which question in their ways of inner fearing fractured feelings
Things best left or right unspoken
For answers to them may they be or not a gambles die
cast in chance of truths best left unseen
Toys for such capricious ways of wanting at a leisure
that seems torturing to say the least
When words of praise and tribute laid down thoughtfully
Yet none return to me
Copyright © jamesp kail | Year Posted 2013
How is it that I feel this way?
I don’t even know what kind of feeling it is
But I know it’s not a good one
I can’t even begin to tell you
Because I can’t even explain it myself
All I think about it you
I start to get these thoughts
They won’t go away
I wonder if you feel this way too
Like something’s missing
I re-read your texts to reassure myself
We lay on the bed in silence
I desperately want stories and laughs
I feel physically connected
But not mentally connected
day after day I’m the one puts in the time
Goes out of my way to make sure you’re ok
Why doesn’t it bounce back my way
Arnt I the one you said I meant the world to you
Then why don’t you show it
Im the girl that needs to be shown that what you say is true
That’s all I ask
This to me doesn’t seem like a big task
Copyright © Madison Mittelbrun | Year Posted 2014
A couple walks along a crowded street,
gazing at each other as though they had
met for the first time.
Their fingers are warmly clasped to each other,
as though they are wedding. Eyes roll with
admiration and envy.
Extended night shifts, in-laws, gossips,
mortgage and teenage crisis of their children
have brought them closer than they could ever imagine.
The sense of bliss in their faces
hides the destructive past that has made them
to fall more deeply in love with each other.....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
One time, I made up a story which I told so often,
That I started to believe it too, it was a whopper;
It all started at work with co-workers asking me,
Why does a beautiful girl like you not have a . . .
The constant questions were getting me angry,
I had been married, my love was in heaven above;
Anyways, that is another story but I was resting,
From any relationship with a man and from . . .
So one day, I made up a boyfriend so very amazing,
I gave him a name, first and last and a real great job;
Of course, he was handsome and sexy and loved me so,
But it was a long distance relationship, you see . . .
I gave him a personality based on truth, my husband,
It was easy and I just kept adding to that big lie;
Oh Michael said this , you know the way girls often do,
Yes indeed, he was my everything and my forever . . .
The imaginary things we did together were so awesome,
They were based in truth, just not now, but true;
It is sort of sad in a way, oh how I exaggerated everything,
He gave me gifts, that I actually bought for . . .
I kept up that whopper for a few years until they stopped,
The gossips moved on to another victim to bother,
And the handsome Michael just drifted away, I miss him;
Afterall, he was the perfect man really because he was . . .
July 4, 2016
For the contest, Tell A Tall Tale
sponsor, Jessie Day
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016
Do I want to only look at new ones,
never been used,
or is that a too restrictive market,
too competitively priced
for virginity of place and relationship on Earth?
And, is such redemptively-intended virginity
an asset or a deficit,
in which ways?
Could I rather shop in a wider market,
someplace more gently used
someplace with smooth natural wood and stone,
rich in character
and not the smell of fresh acrylic paint,
when I could have wisteria and roses
lavender and mint
wafting through those big brown
or hazel door and window frames.
If this prospective relationship
does not bring sanity and health and pleasure and beauty
then is that not a contract violation
and time to be thinking about separation
so Self and Others can get back into our confluent market
for a better fit with this Time;
not a decade ago?
Have my needs
and preferences changed,
while my life partner's and vocation's may feel
no more room for additions,
lack of flexible floor plan,
too big or too small?
Have I changed my definition of paradise
is not who I am still investing in.
My fellow pilgrims, and places, and their path,
seem entrenched in incompatibility.
They have grown older,
more cracks in the plaster,
wear in the not-so-natural rugs,
missing some shingles on the roof.
Does the view from outside
look more like a weedpatch,
than my intended investment in paradise?
While shopping used expands your multicultural potential,
it also brings its baggage.
All that good and/or bad karma
yours for a down payment
but not always part of what you bargain for.
Did I ask if anyone had ever been murdered here,
or how many toxic fantasies cast their shadows?
swimming in carcinogens,
tumorous habits growing mold under the roof?
What is prior experience with abuse,
Do I have a right to know, to be informed? Could I ask prior co-habitors and self-marketers with a prospective position/vocation/place/person:
Why are the two of you going your separate ways?
Was this your decision or did it feel more like
your house/spouse/employer gave you no choice?
If it was your choice,
if you have moved on
to something more to your liking,
rather than merely running away
from a smelly situation,
then what does your current relationship
by way of contentment,
with justice and beauty and health,
that is lacking in my prospective investment?
Perhaps there were reasons unrelated to your vocational satisfaction.
Maybe you couldn't afford to stay any more?
Is this place/person high maintenance, do you think?
Too heavily taxing,
bleeding you through inflated costs of living,
dispossession of responsibility
too much Win-Lose gaming?
Are there problems in the neighborhood/extended family
that I should know about?
Does the plumbing still work?
Are the lights on but nobody's home?
Would you recommend your house/spouse/job
to your best in-the-market friend?
Why or why not?
What interior and exterior landscape and design issues
did you have?
What did you find were your interior and exterior relational strengths
for future development?
Knowing what you have learned
through your own investment experience,
who do you think would be the ideal partner
for this former place now in my face?
Too much information, or appropriate responsibility to be informed
of which economic and political incarnations we embrace?
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
She was tidying up the food store,
then soon a mouse appeared on a shelf.
"What a cuuuute lil thing....." she whispered.
So touched by it's white fur and pink nose,
that she called her husband from the sitting room.
He came, he saw, and searched for a baseball bat.
"I'm killing this pest!" he shouted, as he raised the bat.
His wife stood right in front of the mouse.
"If you gonna kill this cute, lil thing, you gonna pass
through me first!" she quipped.
Her husband was surprised to the core of his bone marrow,
that he sat on a stool close to him. He cupped his palms
on the bat, and lay his head on top of them.
"What are you thinking, Sweetheart?" she asked.
He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time,
and shook his head with dismay written all over his face.
"You love that mouse, don't cha?"
Her face became red with rage.
"Ok, so you want to kill this cutie because you're jealous?!
Ha! This is unbelievable! How can you believe I love it more than
I do love you??!!"
Her husband's face had slowly turned from dismay to utter
Noticing the look on his face, she became angrier.
"Aha! Now you are chuckling in your heart because you don't
care at all!! You are still planning how you'll kill this innocent
creature, isnt it?!?!?"
"Honey, that's a rodent, ok?"
"Now you think I don't know what a rosent is?!?! I had an A
in Biology and had a scholarship to......never mind!!
Her husband bursted out laughing.
She had a blank look on her face.
"Sweetie, let's make it a pet....."
"Why didn't you say so before!!" she screamed, as she hugged
him, while seated on the stool.
"What name will we call it?" he asked.
"Wha...what?! Your ex's name?! You're not serious!!
He treated you like a douche bag, and you still call out his name?!
She was enraged once again.
"One, it's just a name. Two, I'm not a douche bag!!"
For hours they argued from one point to the other,
as the mouse helped itself out with some dried corn....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017
It's hard to see the me from past,
The sweet, the peaceful and the calm that'd last.
It's impossible to feel the same as before,
The love, the life and the bound sea shores.
It's never to realize,
Whether this is my greatest fall or rise.
It's disturbing to know,
The possession I hold and aggression I own
It's frustrating to believe
That there is no way, I can be heaved.
It's an end to see,
What I was, and what I came to be.
An evil of darkness,
A devil of arrogance
Through the time that passed away,
A demon, that's lifeless
Copyright © Sweksha Karna | Year Posted 2015
I felt it in the warm touch of the one I love;
she danced to the tunes of "Jingle Bells",
as her dress circled in the air. She looked
like a Christmas tree in her flower dress,
and the happiness that was glowing in her.
As a child eagerly finds a branch to add
a Christmas card, I placed my palm
on her chest, to listen to what her heart
was telling my heart,
in the Christmas night....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
THE GIRLFRIEND OF MY FRIEND
Saturday noon I drove my car to her house.
Seeing the doors open my eyebrows were all aroused.
I began to curse Jai who told me
“Samit look after my girlfriend while I’m out of town”
Damn it! Now all my weekend plan are drown.
I saw the first sight of Natasha.
She was sitting on her sofa with her legs crossed.
And a pretty little mole near the thigh exposed
Her skin was like a cream from orchids of Vanilla.
Lips that can drive madness spree in any fella.
“Hello there! When did u arrive?” mouthed she.
“Come down and help me with my sandal” asked she.
I took her softish feet in my crude hands
And haul them inside the sandal where they melt.
“Let’s go”, she stood up and said in a shot.
I followed her to my car with her range goddamn hot.
I stopped the car at the Curries restaurant.
But her thoughts in my mind still drew.
With the getting to know chit chat, yea, oh, hmm…
I thought I’m getting her bored.
She’s a kind of girl who let me down as I feel fool.
With the cool girl as that I wish I had tricks bag full.
Dropping her late night I asked if she had the good time.
With eyes looking at sandal she said that made me wakeup,
“Your friend shows he has move on after the breakup
But still didn’t forget to send the gift on my special day
Give my thanks and say the sandals are not my size”
She muttered after a teardrop rolled from her eyes.
So I’m texting you Jai…not to make her shoe size settle
But urging you to go back to make her every day SPECIAL.
-By Kunal Rathod
Copyright © Kunal Rathod | Year Posted 2015