When I was a kid, i read the Bible..From the start, and I had a hero.' Who had a starring part..Call him Moses or Moshe.?
A humble man 'saw God' lived miracles
Worked to 'the plan' untill in death he then arrived, and yet Yeshua would kick hells
Doors open wide, to free from death His
People there' among them Moses His
Freind i dare." The veil now rent.' Can't be
Denied ' And God in triumph for that death
Has died
'
When You're Old
On a special night when you are old and waiting for sleep
Remember my battles and this appointment you promised to keep
Take out these pages my love and slowly read
Of the days gone past good times and dream of the love we need
Feel the warmth of our embraces, see the looks of love in our eyes
Dream of the good times we shared before the dark shadows came and the day dies
Surrender to passions throws beneath a blanket of stars aglow
Relive the surges of love's desires that did once grow
Give yourself again to those gladdest moments of lusts grace
Shared with this one man that loved every expression on you beautiful face
I still write poems in my head
On paper, maybe not
But if you ever wanted one
I'd write it on the spot
See I just have to think of you
To get the words to flow
Then watch them turn to poetry
It's easy when you know
When love strikes
Love or the emotion of infatuation
is a disturbing feeling, making us
willing to risk humiliation
I have met and loved several women
In my life, but I have been in love once
That was when I was middle-aged
but quite unaware of my years
She spoke English wonderfully
Was it her voice I loved or herself?
The wife I had was English, too
but didn't like to live in Portugal, Liverpool
the place where she thrived
We got divorced, which I didn't mind
thought I had found the love I needed
In the woman who spoke wonderfully
The beginning was a lovely time
I even met her posh mother
The abar was where she drank heavily, but
I sat about rescuing her
To save someone who doesn't want
To be saved is a waste of time
Behind my back, she began an affair
With a Dutch person, why is that
Race tall and wear unrimmed glasses
For a while, I took up drinking, which
I'm not good at it; it makes me confused
I tried to unlove her, but she is still
in my heart as a sweet memory that
Once upon a time, I was young
Because love blooms
in a velvet world without constraints
and words drip as whispers from the tongue
to touch the tender heart
breathing in its fragrant scent
Would every word confessed be a treasure found?
Where each step seems lighter
and every gaze a precious prize
held tightly to the heart
As a smile conveys and eyes lift
to welcome entrance to the soul
without concern
releasing every burden
to leave a silent pause in a gentle realm
where emotions wrap like vines
winding until they are one
not noticing the world as it vanishes
with each kiss stolen from each breath
that is held warmly between the palms of embrace
when love is confessed
I realized a heartfelt reason why.
For you and I, I do want to try.
How I felt was slowly magnetized
In a way I never until now realized.
I realized how you and I are the same.
For you and I, I am ending my game.
How I feel will gradually grow
As you and I appreciatively go slow.
I realized maybe we were fated to meet.
For you and I, I shall surrender in defeat.
How I feel will soothe your aching heart,
As you and I gently embrace this new start.
I realized you suffer the same way as I do.
For you and I, I will see through to you.
How I felt from the start inspires me
To embrace who you really are truly.
He had dreamed himself
to be in love with her
and vice versa
He taught himself
not to dislike anything
that she liked
unaware that he was
reflecting
deflecting
projecting
rejecting
much
horse sense
Choreographing ideals
they trance-danced
blindfolded
Lovers cling
to each other's dreams
they may make-out,
make up
make believe
It all
can be
perfectly perfect,
just as long
as that
mutual mirage
remains
When I was young, the holidays
Were filled with fun and food.
We spent the day with relatives,
All in a happy mood.
At least, that’s how it seemed to me -
My cousins and my brothers
Enjoyed the time we got to spend
Just hanging with the others.
Of course, I never thought of
What the grown-ups had to say -
The cleaning and the cooking
And rambunctious kids - Oy vey!
The hours in the temple
Followed by a home-made meal
And perhaps there were resentments,
Some unable to conceal.
Then the clean-up and the travel
As exhaustion staked its claim.
Still, the warm embraces reaffirmed
That all were glad they came.
Today I am the grown-up
And my eyes are opened wide
As I view the coming holidays
From the much-less magic side.
When “pretty” really is never pretty enough
The pressure to look like everyone else is such a hassle. The pressure to have prettier eyes, skin, hair, body shape, and everything else. So why is everyone always so pressured to look different than they are. “The pretty girls have is better.” “The handsome boys have it better.” Why do we think like that. Well honestly, I don’t know because I do the same. “I wish I was prettier.” “I wish I had pretty blue eyes.” “I wish I had bigger hips.” Why can’t we be happy with what we have? “Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well.” -Naya Riveria. Where like butterflies. We can’t see our own wings but other can. Other people can see that your pretty or handsome but you can’t. Im sitting here writing this while im not even taking advice. I do wish i was prettier, i do wish i looked different. So why is pretty never pretty enough for anyone.
God gave me too much of me
And some of me too little
That to live must be —
That to live must be reduced
To something less
A lesser someone
Or in fullness being —
A being forever bounding
To where the lesser could never reach
Or reach immensely slower.
God gave me too much of me
So I longed to pass as Elijah did
In my chariot of fire
Lacquered black and finely barred,
Run on one-way furnace rails.
Just one summer like no other
that is what it was !
You and I across the field
playing like wild children
in the playground of my heart !
Here and there, everywhere
we were
angels soaring o'er daises
un-plucked* breathing *
Rain or shine, we were always together
drenched in sunlight we were poetry
As we lay softly on the
summer grass
the heady scent of flowers clothed us,
even rain could not wash away
the inhale of our innocence,
It was a summer like no other
the summer when we first met ,
When happiness settles in my chest like a gentle sunbeam,
I become a circle rolling lazily on the green field of grass,
I hit a tree standing in my way, then turn back from its shadow,
Seeking the light, rolling away from the shadow and leaves.
When sadness wraps my skin like a veil of cold, dense fog,
I transform into an ellipse, my thoughts stretching far from the center,
I struggle to return completely, to constrict myself into a circle again,
In perfect balance, where my desires meet once more.
Then self-doubt sets its throne in my soul like a heavy cloud,
And I become a triangle, a Bermuda Triangle,
Attracting every ship of optimism, lost in my mystery,
A tangled labyrinth of my worth, an endless and ancient enigma.
Then the greed for perfection unleashes from my depths,
Shaping me into a square, symmetrical, each corner carefully aligned,
I carry myself upright, at perfect angles, seeking that ideal form,
I am less a changing human and more pleasing shapes to the eye.
I am a story of lines and curves, a dance of shapes and shadows,
Always searching to find myself between eternal corners and rounds.
When Alfred left me
It was not my fault, I had no shoes, and the police stopped
asking why I had no shoes
since it was none of their business
I naturally told them to off.
I was handcuffed and put in a police car,
which was more cooling than the asphalt
It was October in Albufeira, which can be warm
I thought this was a perfect movement, a father defends his son
But Alfred, who refuses to be my father, had gone home
I was left to explain this ridiculous case,
luckily the Portuguese
The police force felt sorry for me and let me go.
The next day, I bought a pair of sneakers in a Chinese shop
Alfred was wearing my costly upper leather
I read her eyes for all details
For, word vouched dies with all details.
Truth wiser is with all details,
As it culls from lies all details.
The hearth was hushed, so was my maw,
Her hush apprised with all details.
She could not tell me all the truth,
Now her silence tries-- all details.
What was not said and left unsaid,
Her reserve spies with all details.
_________________________
Ghazal |17.09.2025 | eyes, lies, silence, truth, words
I stood unsure when vacillating there,
My thoughts walked way ahead me waiting there.
I’ll reach you, love, ere my feet reaching there,
Wet you with love ere rain can, raining there.
Like some of my friends who come to meet me,
I’ll barge in before air entering there
And try to soothe the kind soul that dwells on:
How’ll the poor plucked flowers be feeling there.
To me alas, flowers die anyway,
O to die a slow death suffering there.
_________________________________
Ghazal |16.09.2025 | flowers, friend, love, rain
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