He was old, so old. Not just old, but archaic, ancient. In his seventies when I was born… and I remember, his face well worn. We shared a feeling, the two of us. A feeling, a family, a faith in our heart. He was old and I was young. Together, we found the wonder of love. Love built on the sharing of ice cream cones. The love built on knowing that chestnuts were best consumed after they’d been roasted in Granny’s old wood stove. A love built on knowing that Granny knew more than she should. And the time would come when we’d feel better on the porch than we could in any room. Together we shared a feeling, a family, a faith. Faith in each other and faith in God’s amazing grace. Faith in the old spring’s water. Faith in the hay God made. Faith in Granny’s garden. Faith in Jesus, the Way. He was old, older than I knew. Him and me found a purpose in planning our days and we’d agree, life would never be the same after he passed away. His light, though, would remain, to brighten the way with truth. The truth that tells me, he was my proof that there is good in this world and there is love, too.
too old to say no
he was a living legend
offering me hope
No Off Switch
There’s no off switch, I can’t stop feeling it.
The fire that burns within me , can’t be put out, no matter how loud I scream and shout.
Even the screams are quiet, deep inside. Nothing can be heard. Like I’m in a soundproof room.
The constant feeling I get, pulsing within. It truly feels like sin. But I don’t care.
Well you can be the judge of this silly rhyme:
You pulled my hair , we were both bare you locked me with a stare and whispered “You think you're going to get relief? Don't you dare.”
You made my lip quiver with anticipation you said seductively “Don't shiver sweetheart you'll enjoy this stimulation”.
You carried on with your devilish task making each moment climb higher “Oh please?!” I couldn't even ask or plead.
Then I felt myself jolt as I got close then you pulled your hand away with a smile and said “No.”
I hope you enjoyed it I've not written a poem or whatever you would call this since 2014.
Buried in the depths of my soul is the unrealized hope of a full explanation
Covered over by shovels full of doubt and thoughts regressed
Brilliance which lost its edge from lack of use lies in a state of degradation
Can hope with its own will stir once again the creative mind
Bringing forth seeds of thoughts that demand to be expressed
That they may be embellished by those holding thoughts of a like kind
This is the essence of my life’s revelation
To expose those soulful thoughts, that all may be blessed
Luring thoughts that deserve our full admiration
To put them in rhyme I’m often inclined
For me it’s the medium that seems to be best
Alloying a rhythm to be intertwined
No matter the depth of their foundation
The soulful thoughts will evolve on their quest
Fulfilling the purpose of their creation
I thought this noxious pain would abandon my agonized heart after a while
I thought if I could write better it would ease on me
Maybe my tacks were wrong,
I couldn't find my way to exist, still a character of a juvenile
They mocked my will, my reasons, my need to smile
No matter how old, never will be mature enough
I came the last, cried a bit much, been called the spoiled infant
They refused to see the unpleasant substance runs in my veins
That I was a bit too lonesome, compared to the rest.
I tried to hold onto the little ones, they arrived long after me;
Even my eager attempts were not solid enough for them to see.
Now I found my company, he took my solitude, turned "I" to "we"
All I needed is his camaraderie, only his devotion, love, caring
Still feels too great to ask a little sympathy,
From the ones who stood before me
Never have the right to feel, just a naive employee.
Where did all the time go?
It feels like yesterday
When we ran through the sunflower fields
And it feels like tomorrow
When we lose all the feelings of youth
Where did all the time go?
Just last night we raised our glasses to the skies
And drank to new beginnings
In hopes of starting anew and change
But tomorrow knocked on our doors
And entered as we drank to new beginnings
Take me back, oh Lord, take me back
For God’s sake take me back
Losing our youth to the forgotten memories
Our future endeavours now result in cries
Reminiscing about childhood filled with voyages
Adventures that never seemed to end
Now ends in all of us asking the same question
Where did all the time go?
What can I do?
To fight these urges
In my adult life, I have no luck
No luck with love
But my body needs to
But I can't disappoint God
Nor give Satan the power
So what can I do
To fullfill my Sexual desire
The beating in my chest
the urge to rub a womans breast
and rubbing her feet would also be best
I can't be a pimp
Compare to my male friends
I feel like a useless wimp
I have tons of urges and kinks
I can have sex in weeks
I love to mingle
But I am single
I'm not getting yonger
I'm getting older
My urges feel like a roller-coaster
I feel horny each time I'm awake
I don't know how much I can take
Version One:
A table shared,
wood smoothed by stories,
hands marked by the land,
holding not to let go,
but to hold dear—
crumb and crust, life flourishing between us.
Not to quiet hunger,
but to relish, pressed in hands,
the warmth of something earned,
and shared.
Version Two:
A table shared,
wood worn soft by stories,
hands touched by the soil,
holding not to part,
but to cherish—
crumb and crust, life growing among us.
Not to quell hunger,
but to enjoy, shaped in hands,
the warmth of something gained,
and shared.
Welcome to my peach pity party
It’s my own fault it’s started
Without music I so lavender love
I find my pen more and piano not enough
I have ambitions and I notice now
That time is ticking winding down
I’m sure to die poor and unknown
I’m ok with that but dreams are blown
Dreams of leaving earth better than it was
Dreams of leaving inheritance and love
Dreams of not dying alone at home
Dreams of never being weak but strong
I don’t wear Cpap so I’m doomed
Lupus in remission but could anytime bloom
I have overcome some dilemmas thankfully
But God still put impossible dreams in me
Why so that I strive despite my hard head
Writing my dreams that I will never live
In a way I have because you read my lines
When a poetic thought starts in my mind
So pity party you are here with me
Embracing my poems and deferred dreams
I’m no longer a girl with the canvas sky
But a mature woman who uses ink to fly
Maturity is something which
Has come and gone with me.
I am a man - but then can be
A boy again, you see.
Sometimes, I can set aside
My adult obligations...
Trading them for short-lived fun
In said sad celebrations.
Something deep and within me
Is triggered in my mind.
This, I ask - is what I seek
In life so hard to find?
Maybe so, and why I choose
To often make a task
Out of escaping who I am
By putting on a mask.
Saying this, I am aware
There is another choice...
This depends on me more so
To speak and use my voice.
How will anybody know
If I do not express?
Keeping it inside leaves me
With nothing to address.
I know that I am good enough
And that I will succeed
As long as I keep this in mind...
That I am all I need.
Being immature will not
Get me anywhere.
Instead, deciding to man up
Is sure to get me there.
Baby birds
Tucked in warm pew-nests
Mouths agape to catch
masticated lies
Rather than growing
Mature enough to bake
The bread of life
Frightened animals
Leaving blinders on
So our blind leader
We can trust and believe
Rather than being
brave enough to look
At truths before unseen
Scorpion stung prey
Backbones turning to mush
With the poison venom of
What we want to hear
Rather than standing strong in
The boots and armor
Of Truth we should wear
Eagerness
*******************************************************
The harness digs into tender, wounded flesh.
Growth has exceeded our bonds and makes them uncomfortable…painful.
Only then do we notice, realize, the bit in our mouth.
Friction inducing sores around raw, skinless lips.
Only then do we see the driving reins that have been leading us to take the right paths.
Just as a mother bird will push their offspring from the nest into flight, our Authority desires for us to stretch and grow enough to break free of our bonds!
Seek liberty from the law with zeal and eagerness!
When our desires have matured past the selfish stage and reached majority, to match the will of God, then freedom does not lead one along the wrong path.
Liberty leads to *love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance; against such there is no law!
------------------------ -------------------------- --------------------------
Remove bit, bridle
Eagerly the horse runs free
Down the right path home
*(Galatians 5:22-23)
I’m scared of what life has in store
But I’m also excited to see what it is.
Back in 2021 I wanted to end it all
I was ready to forfeit this race.
It was always day but
I chose to not see the light.
Whenever it became night
I kept wishing for sunrise
I use to thought I had to die
To escape the distress I felt
I thought death was the only option
To experience true freedom
The idea of suicide was a friend to me
It solved all of my answers back then
My feelings wouldn’t be in turmoil
Looking back, I realized it was a snare
The emotion of going to sleep
And to never wake up again.
Was an intimate feeling for me.
I cursed myself for waking up in the morning
My perspective changed
I’m optimistic for what life has
I don’t want to cower in the dark
And hide from the sunrises.
I don’t take my mornings for granted
Instead I sit there and breathe it in
This 30th of November,
I can be dragged down by
men
that I loved. And they feel no guilty
I’m caged in maturity.
A little girl tugs my fuchsia leg-split
“Tear it or tear down”.
Fear
of getting lost
Neverland
with a waggish Peter Pan
makes promises and never brings
or the world’s much like flame
in sin where men are hell king.
Make election sure
Heaven are not for babies,
But pure and mature.
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