Every couple will argue, have conflicts or disagreements,
It's quite normal.
The key is whether both parties are willing,
To make an effort to resolve them.
The pace of life is hard to adapt,
But it's normal.
Those steps in life can be taken gradually
But you must figure it out were the problem lies is
Between the two of you.
Life is just like daily necessities
A thousand things to be taken cared of
Some things may never be fully understood.
If both parties decided to be together,
Then go all in and live your life well.
If one day you feel that you really can't go on,
Then just break up.
Then, if you meet your love, then, love again.
If you don't meet it, then, move back in.
Just like you now, living with Mom and Dad.
The courage to forge ahead,
The courage to retreat,
It's your love and life you choose.
Marching fighting living dying keep moving forward there is no time for crying
Attack retreat move forward move back killing the enemy in another attack
Body parts strewn all around on the ground while blood from the dead has turned the dirt red
Death from the land the sea and the air who are we killing dose anyone care
The enemy have no faces and we don't know their name we are just pawns in wars deadly game
Bullets with your name on shells hitting the ground screaming of the dying is the normal sound
Marching fighting living dying keep moving forward as there is no time for crying
Dear Mr Putin.' At this time, of world need
Is there? Any possibility? In the middle east
Conflict you could intercede.? After so many millions of lives were tortured and lost, just in your own Russia, when hitlers
Armies marched across, i will give that monster no more time..I move back to today and now, and the need of a well balanced character.' In a world of deceit, well defined.
Amid, threats of global chaos.' I beleive you
Would have the ear; of others,
who lead that
Might assist, and to be fair..Its you and trump i
Have mostly studied, so here i will desist.'
you i
See are a tested statesman, who holds his
Line, and protects his reserves, a Christian
By self assertion, dear Mr Putin would you
Perhaps now serve.? By contacting those you feel, are pragmatic.' To bring such mayhem
We now face to heel.' I ask in Christ as a bondsman..Can you project some sanity.?
Maybe? (broker with others,) a world calming deal.'
I was a disroped shadow,
alone on an island,
far from the wife, kids,
clubs, cars and the mansion.
How would I move back to the highland,
with my character, dignity and identity
now a transgression.
As each day passed
things continued to worsen.
Boozed bloodshot eyes of stress,
I thought to myself,
could this be the end,
was I gasping for my last breadth?
Had my day of reckoning finally come?
I looked in the mirror,
no one was there, all was lost.
Somehow an inner strength came,
who knows from where,
this was my angelic avenger,
I would hold her at all cost.
My Joan of Arc,
I certainly did not call,
she was manifested
from enduring this ferocious storm.
This new foundation
that would end my fall,
everlasting strength was here.
I had been Reborn.
Love we walked on the clouds, and watched the birds, they laughed at us as we floated around.
We held hands under the sun, and laughed and played as we rolled on the clouds.
The clouds so soft and comfy, felt like our love that is so fulfilling.
Love we looked up over the clouds, we dreamed of heaven, and waited to see if it was going to send us a message, we looked at each other and knew our love was the message.
We watched the moon and the stars, they sparkled like our love, bright and beautiful, making me sigh in awe.
Living without walls, able to move back and forth through the clouds, makes me feel like you have always been mine, making my thoughts float around with joy and happiness.
Sometimes I feel the dark clouds roll around, making me think that you are feeling dark and unkind. Turn away from the dark and stay in the light, for I do not want you to get lost in the dark of the night.
Your love is always on time, and stays on my mind, making me feel you in this time and rhyme.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Quote by: Blue Sapphire
"One can only give what one has, be it love or be it hate !"
Where do we place that cup of hate when love's bitter pill,
has been swallowed?
How do we move back into love when all is dead and gone?
Do we fold our cards and peacefully accept
or do we play the wild card of hate and send
resentful snakes slithering down the path of a broken life....
Where do we find the courage to love again after hate
has devoured our sense of compassion and taken away
the virtue of forgiveness?
One can only give what one has, so will it be hate of love
that wins over, in the end.
It's your card game so let me know if you decide to fold
or Trump it !
ps this was not meant to be read as a political poem
but rather to show how every man and woman has
the capacity to either love or hate depending on their
choices. I used the Trump playing card because
it shows how we can to win the game, if we play it right.
I was hoping for some non-political comments on this
poem. Thanks :)
Waking up through the night really can't sleep
Mind is wondering fast, and everything is so deep
Staring at the dark, your body is laying still
Everything becomes silent, and the picture becomes clear
The distinct level of conversation that's within yourself
Is a mirror of a reflection from the mind calling for help
To stare into your consciousness with a metaphorical invasion
The physical will stay asleep, but the mental begin exploration
The darkness becomes a pandora box that you're trying to escape
To move back into reality form before it's too late
As you're laying there still with a sleepless rest
Your spirit returns back to the body with a physical aspect
dog sits on couch
watching my pencil move back and forth
what is he thinking?
He stares at me with heavy black eyes
is it an accusation?
Is it a love look?
I dare not make eye contact a second time
As soon as I do he will be in this recliner
licking my ear
with his quick silver tail flipping me in the eyes
I sit on your garbage can and fiddle with a knob
Your back door shakes a bit, I search for a corn cob
Smash goes the lid to your aluminum garbage can
I am the man, I think now, I am the man!
You are in your kitchen, terrified to see that knob
Slowly move back and forth; my cousin has the corn cob
Fighting ensues, we slap each other and screech
You call the cops. They send out Officer Leech.
Winds rattle the windows
while babes are asleep;
Cows traverse the fields
through snow that's knee deep.
Chickens are in the coup
surrounded by straw,
They are not alone in
waiting for the thaw.
Water pipes are frozen,
power lines come down;
Snowplows move back and forth
through the snow locked town.
Schools have been cancelled,
kids skate on the ice;
Many snowmen been built,
each one's very nice.
There be some that don't like
all this stuff of white,
Many have left the state
by car or by flight.
But that is nothing new,
happens every year,
And it is they'll return
after springtime's here.
And so the seasons go
as the months roll by,
Time waits for no one now
and ne'er answers why.
It's funny how it works,
so precise, so neat,
Yet some hating the cold
also hate the heat.
I am awoken by the summer night crickets and lighting that strikes the roof rod.
The wind and the abnormally hot air that begets the ominous dark cloud filled with ice rocks and Gods tears.
My dying light marked by the lost touch of a handsome beacon to the dullness of my heart.
A killing angel forgotten by the depths of a secretive shadow, engulfed in an endless pit of darkness.
He is, but a memory one must hide away in the heavens of the heart and the evils of the mind.
The forgotten peach wrapped in a towel under the intense heat of the summers breeze.
Written as a spiritual insurance when the floorboards creaked
As the wind caught my feet and the whispers that knew great feat.
It is no trick or a forgery of truth, but a para-perception to make up my lack of you.
I cannot move back the misty pendulum, wishing for some other to fill the gaps of what was once true.
Before you left, I should have cleaned our mess, but I am a hoarder of memories
That you must've despised, toxic soldier.
I cannot promise the stars I won’t draw for you, nor for the winds of time to forget your name
But your love will always roam the realms of my universal truths.
With heavenly gates wide open, earth unsealed
As walls come down, obstacles vanish from our field
New impressions arise within our mind
Unblocking our thinking, freshly aligned
Our thoughts take new wing
For strength to flow, joy to spring.
Royalty adorn upon our gown draped
Overcome the invincible, for evil is already defeated
Move back to move ahead with heaven’s might
Advance and ascend with heaven’s insight
Occupy the realms of honour and success,
For our Source, the Anchor, we profess
The Dreamweaver, World Shaker, true
To His Word, will guide us to our breakthrough!
Drawing a face
It is like assigning the pieces
Into one
Modifying a drawing
It is like uttering the sequence
Into words
A mystery,
Birds always make a sound
But what sound are they making?
Interesting as it I'd
Waves always move back and fourth
But what movement are they showing?
Amazing as it is
A landing,
Writing on a paper
It is like putting an ink between the lines
To make sense
Singing a song
It is like swallowing the words
To make vocals
A mystery
a man and his kitten
He had lived in a cottage deep inland for thirty years, now, was time for a change, but it was hard to let go, but now the dog was dead he felt alone
He and his dog had walked the same sheep tracks for years and in summers, bathed in the river
walking the same tracks, now made him feel miserable.
Moved he did, to an apartment in town with a view
of the sea, nice, but the ocean was not his first love
his new love was a kitten he had found when walking to the store.
Writing is difficult here, he blames the noise from
flats over his, but he knew he was being dishonest
writing gets more difficult than before
He has had calls from someone wanting to buy his cottage and home standing alone, a house might lose its soul, must hear voices, or the roof will sag and with windows of sorrow.
He hesitates, thinks he could move back, but can't now that he has a kitten to take care of.
"Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house; can you hear the whispering?" - Quote by Constance La France
A house without a mouse or spouse
tends to babble on a bit, to itself,
whispering wanton murmurs,
meows and purrs,
as it hums and winds away
the bore-some, dreary hours
waiting for someone,
anyone, anything,
or any being really, real or unreal,
to move back in,
baring mice
of course.
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