Mea Poems - Poems about Mea

Thou wert frail, frailer still thy fate, Had reasons fair to feel nigh riled, Your sad eyes sure had looked for me, O my ill-fated child. I was too far to welcome thee, My child, had little time to wait, Get admired in father’s fond arms, And ye left, gone from gate. Helpless not to have held to heart, Nor yet welcome thou...

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Living within the madness the echoes come and go Channeling everything left unsaid in phrases yet to know Time suspended, barriers down the walls come crashing in Each voice a memory which haunts sublime —that unforgiven sin (Dreamsleep: June, 2023)...

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I am ready, big day today, my first meal, And what I smell to my taste does appeal, You have both been so busy preparing, Love the deal that the three of us sharing. Oh, it looks exciting, 3 bowls I see, Never underestimate me, Which one shall we try mummy The orange one looks so yummy, I’m in my chair, and wearing...

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life’s precious fabric unravelling strand by strand Earth weeps...

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Who would praise a god of pestilence and death make of the “grand inquisitor” their guest while pounding “Mea culpa” on their breast a fool’s concocted heaven as their quest. While we add life to melancholy’s need To scatter its unpollinated seed Fearful of too long unquestioned creeds That prey upon the weak to fill their needs. For is it not the price...

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Glistering liquid midnight, whispered her pain to me Oceans hissing as thoughts scream cruelty, Bleeding evening; a Citadel by the sea Strawberry scent by the pyre as fine could be. For here I fell in love with her Fleeting, my mistress and her purest lure, Laden fantasies as she lulled me away Erotic, poisoned nectar where her legs fully splayed. A flaccid branch...

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One word I inadvertently let loose from those I had kept in control for long, the flamboyant ones I carefully chose, over time with practice they became strong. I did this after you came in my life, we flowed in time in the usual way, until we were struck by the surge of strife, you had started to slowly stray away. That was...

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MEA CULPA If it is dirty, yours truly. A child is crying, what did I do? A cloud blocks the sun, must be my attitude. A word said unkindly. They must have learned from me. For I am as unrespectful as only I can be. A bit sad maybe? Of course, that is my fault too. I should know I have that effect on...

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MEA CULPA(CA) It was an auspicious occasion; The wedding of the year. And, afterwards, the guests murmured Aaah! When I told them how, At our very first meeting I had fallen for your allure. So how, after so few years Has everything gone awry? How has love turned to anguish? You don’t need to answer. I know you have no appetency For discussion. The fault is mine alone. Nothing...

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Sins of others may give pain with which I'm fraught But don't cause me unceasing distress that lingers within It's those things that I did but should not have, or didn't but ought That nag me in the wee small hours and stay under my skin...

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Last night I heard you through the walls crying and muttering some It broke my heart I had forgotten for a moment Your world is not ours your understanding different confusion is the normal state it breaks your heart I had forgotten for a moment You have been doing so well making new friends independent like everyone else It healed my heart I had forgotten for a moment Life is still overwhelming and the...

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traducere de: Angela Mamier Nache. aujourd’hui dieu m’a rappelé à lui m’a grondé comme un père en me disant qu’un ange s’est foulé les ailes en volant parmi mes mots et je jure que je ne l’ai pas voulu et dieu m’a cru sur parole après il m’a rendu tous les mots en retour et il m’a dit gentiment de les...

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Amore est vitae et vitae est Imperati de tu mea sensus Fide, et tu fide est obrizus AMORE, MORTE, INCALESCO Ignibi de inferos, immergo foras tu ego! Non Ego, et tu? Amore vitae mea, abseni......

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Bias, one of the Seven, take up neither (when the Persians arrived) an arm such glorious like the Seven for Thebes, nor a book full of wisdom of now. No. There is a talk he said, “Omnia mea mecum porto”, as every beggar says and left (in hidden) the burning and in ruins turned town. There is a talk...

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in Cezannes colour of blue ...? think it through and feel it out; yes, if it's under-understood, it'll be over-stated and over-the-top -- It'll bring restraint 'round the swelling of that voice inside, which shudders to jab with the tongue -- It'll watch for dissonant growls and raucous rants all diseased by your need to disagree... between your terminal-shadow of despair, where your dark inadequacy lingers, it'll dismantel your...

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