The Difference Between
Me And You Is: I'm
Not You.
This Time.
You Can - I Can't.
Perfectly Balanced!
The Difference Between
It And Not It...
***Draw A Buncha' Maps***
***Dogs And Ponies In A Show***
***Steal A BOAT!!!***
-----please pipe down----
IS NOT IT!!!!
----nothing isn't----
IS Undefined.
---too simple---
Yet.
(Slippery.)
Let Go.
-Gray Squirrel
09-13-2026
Full of force
Full of life
Life loves lust
Life lifts laughs
Laughs over tears
Laughs off the pain
Pain paid prophet
Pain predicted poison
Poison on the mind
Poison in our food
Food foreign fragile
Food forever fake
Fake news is real
Fake family fun
Fun is limited
Fun uniquely shattered
Shattered dreams
Shattered heart
Heart full of ice
Heart racing
Racing against time
Racing against humanity
Humanity has to fight
Humanity stripped of rights
Rights to free speech
Rights to vote
Vote for peace
Vote for proper protection
Protection from our government
Protection from our citizens
Citizens above the law
Citizens who had enough
Enough flags being raised
Enough evil evidence
Evidence we shall ignore
Evidence says Jesus wept
Wept for the dead
Wept for the living
Living organisms fail
Living God heals
Heals heaven's heart
Heals harmful hail
Hail stones freezing
Hail holy history
History unfrozen
History rewritten
Rewritten heroes
Rewritten villains
Villains
Heroes
My husband,
He's attentive.
He mirrors the care I give, gracefully.
Believing in my ideas,
Guiding with no grip,
Debriefing as we cool.
My husband,
He's talented,
He knows failure and the win.
Humble in that fact,
Driven by integrity,
Kind hands, the type the small run towards.
My Husband,
He's warm inside,
Undying in his inner flame.
He turns his own cogs,
His mind multidimensional,
His heart radiating in ripples.
My Husband,
His eyes sing so loudly,
Empathy the main chorus that never ends.
Recognising others naturally,
Holding space without thought,
A strong spine protecting his clan.
My Husband,
He isn't here yet,
But I've been growing for my love.
Hear my call, dear partner...
Immerse yourself in me,
By your side I will stand in glory.
One is named “Another Unfortunately Not to Contact”,
Still with the mugshot at which we giggled.
I try to see what he had as a passing joke,
But he respected that I seriously don’t want to smoke.
He’ll always suit jackets that jingle.
Another’s named “Hurts to Contact”.
We met at a drawing group.
On first word, we clicked.
Their artwork is lit.
We’ve shared our final packet of Hula Hoops.
Another is just a number.
Together, we sang “Hey Jude”.
We watched “Gavin and Stacey”.
He made perfect pastry.
We’ll always love music and food.
As for you,
“Everything Will Be Alright”
Is how your sibling’s number is saved,
Whose buzzcut I used to shave –
Hair that won’t outgrow my memory’s sight.
Your contact is still Luka ??!
With a smiley and exclamation mark.
We are still in touch,
But I think of you too much –
Our conversations heart wrenching to park.
Amidst the hustle and bustle of life,
She bore the pain and wore the scars;
Leaving behind the soulful hamlet,
She marched onward, lantern in hand,
And trace her footprints in the sands of time.
Though life's like a chasm, deep and wide,
She marched forth like Shepherds beneath stars,
A beam of light, a glimmer of hope shone within,
Like a lighthouse amidst the sea, she stands tall.
Life's naught a trodden path,
But one that awaits to be trodden.
And every step she dares to take
Become a path where none had gone.
The charm of the moon makes vast oceans swoon,
elliptical orbits causing mood swings,
save in few detached souls who are immune,
there being nothing to which their heart clings.
The void of cessation is always still,
akin to a leopard before it leaps,
joyous dewdrops of rain clouds poised to spill,
as boons of grace, which in time our soul reaps.
There is nothing to say, much less to do,
magic of magnetism making ingress,
illumining our aura, each hue new,
wherein breath by breath we slowly undress.
To consciousness pure housed in heart demure ~
This world of names and forms holds no allure
Decoded like a file-Yet still Unclassified
A group tried to scan your soul like a
Barcode file,
Pondering they had access, thought they
Had style-
But one's truth ain't a doc you compile,
You remain encrypted, laughing all the
While.
Betrayal tried to breach you, sneak in,
Eavesdropping, but resilence hit back a
System icon.
You reboot clean, move sharp, stay gone,
Too many layers for for their read only con.
They wanted cliff notes, cheat codes, a
Quick profile, But you're firewalled spirit-
With a street- born smile.
Your whole lifestyle,
Rising every-time like a comeback file.
They called her weak; I called her flame.
Disposable—she wore that shame.
Fate left her cracked on alien stone;
Her warriors fled; she lay alone.
I was half-dead, yet found my spine;
I lifted her; I made her mine.
We crossed poison sands, lungs in debt;
Through fire-tempest—still, I set.
Past empire bones, we learned to bleed;
Survival shifted into need.
Trust grew fanged; loyalty took flight;
Love came midnight, not polite.
I never let her leave my back;
I kept my vow in starless black.
THE MEANING OF ME SHALL ALWAYS BE
JOINED BY THE GREAT AND SPIRITUALLY
THE QUAINTNESS AND AGES IT HAVE TOOK
TO REWRITE THE PAGES OF SAM COOK
I GRAVELY TAKE CHAPTERS AND LIVE THEM TOO
FROM EVERYTHING IN ME THE SOULFUL THE BLUE
SHALL THE VINTAGE TIMES READ MISTY AND YET
THE LEGENDARY ME FOR I SHANT FORGET
WHILE THE PURITY MOVES INSPIE A HARSH FLOW
PNLY GIVING THE MEANING A PLAN TO GROW
AS HERITAGE IS GREAT AND SO FULL OF HOPE
AS THE GUIDANCE AND STRENGTH ALLOWS US COPE
WHY THE LAZY DAZE OF MISSING HEAVEN ALL GOODBYES
AS THE TRANQUIL BLESSINGS GLEAMS IN THEE EYES
WHILE THE PEACEFUL NATURE CONTINUES TO RISE
AS THE MEANING OF IT ALL TAKES FRONT STAGE
WHILE THE JOURNEY GROWS PAGE AFTER PAGE
WRITTING BY YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
MARCH 17 2005 IN AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
I SIMPLY ADORE BEING A POET
THE MEANING OF ME SHALL ALWAYS BE
JOINED BY THE GREAT AND SPIRITUALLY
THE QUAINTNESS AND AGES IT HAVE TOOK
TO REWRITE THE PAGES OF SAM COOK
I GRAVELY TAKE CHAPTERS AND LIVE THEM TOO
FROM EVERYTHING IN ME THE SOULFUL THE BLUE
SHALL THE VINTAGE TIMES READ MISTY AND YET
THE LEGENDARY ME FOR I SHANT FORGET
WHILE THE PURITY MOVES INSPIE A HARSH FLOW
PNLY GIVING THE MEANING A PLAN TO GROW
AS HERITAGE IS GREAT AND SO FULL OF HOPE
AS THE GUIDANCE AND STRENGTH ALLOWS US COPE
WHY THE LAZY DAZE OF MISSING HEAVEN ALL GOODBYES
AS THE TRANQUIL BLESSINGS GLEAMS IN THEE EYES
WHILE THE PEACEFUL NATURE CONTINUES TO RISE
AS THE MEANING OF IT ALL TAKES FRONT STAGE
WHILE THE JOURNEY GROWS PAGE AFTER PAGE
WRITTING BY YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
MARCH 17 2005 IN AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
I SIMPLY ADORE BEING A POET
Answers do not always appease, you can still ask
Battles are not always brutal, be strong in any instance
Comfort is not always your friend, something to consider
Dream daily even when destined paths ahead are unbeknownst to you
May we be blessed to be forever grateful
for all the wonderful memories we’ve made
every moment we’re awake…
and grateful in advance for all the wonderful memories
we have yet to make.
Babe, if love were easy, maybe our story would have been lighter—less tears, less silence, less waiting for words that never came.
But ours was never easy. It was fire and rain. Soft kisses and hard lessons. Joy that filled me, and pain that hollowed me out.
There were days you felt like home—your voice calming storms I never spoke about. And then there were days when love turned heavy, and silence said more than words ever could.
We hurt each other, not always on purpose, but because two wounded hearts don’t always know how to love gently.
Still, I stayed, because between the cracks, something real lived there. You knew parts of me I never showed the world.
It wasn’t perfect. We broke, we returned, we broke again—an endless dance between love and pain.
And yet I cannot hate our story.
You taught me deep love, and deeper strength. You taught me that love can heal and hurt in the same breath.
Maybe we were right person, wrong timing. Or maybe we were never meant to last—only to change each other forever.
And even now, a part of me remembers everything.
Because some loves don’t stay forever… they stay within you.
Our presence is given to play,
in motion sans thought commotion,
cradling bliss in this form of clay,
drop dancing atop the ocean,
as moon’s pull magnetic holds sway,
our heart sips love’s magic potion.
God’s gong of Om pervades our form,
as spirit dances on our spine,
that drenched in bliss mists cool and warm,
nodes within begin to align,
at peace in the midst of this storm,
in stillness becoming divine.
Poised just before our maiden flight ~
God’s touch says it will be alright
TRUTH BE TOLD: SIMPLE, YET PROFOUND
It’s not about peace;
It’s about evil power:
That is what war is:-
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