Announcing the Winners
Simple Poems that Make You Think
Poetry Contest
First Place: Karen Cubides’ “Kissing You Kissing Me”
Second Place: Julia’s “Take my Chance on the Open Route”
A Tie for Third Place: Robin Shaye’s “A Woman’s Son”
And Chris Gill” Let’s Start A New Chapter

This Contest is Closed for Submissions

The first place winner received $40 plus a copy of “Poetry for All Those Breathing”, second place winner will receive a copy of “Poetry for All Those Breathing” and the third place winner will receive a script of “Angels and Other Love Stories: A Romantic Dinner Comedy”.

Picture from

All poets retain the rights to their poems, though they will be on this website and may be used in other media conjunction with this contest, (if your poem is published in its entirety your name will be published with it).

281 thoughts on “

  1. Truth Falls Down

    When Truth falls down

    And the false vanity takes over

    I wake up to a fresh morning

    Where every smile has a hidden motive

    Where every lending hand is filled with jealousy

    I sit back and try to capture

    What my worth is in this fancy stage.

    They never learnt acting

    Yet their valour performances

    Attract every selfless persona

    And thus makes the colourful world

    Even more brighter

    But with minimal contrast.

    Freedom beholds me

    Still I ought to know the truth

    But should I take on the False?

    Isn’t that what the world wants?

    He says, “All the world’s a stage”

    My innocent starts admiring the drama

    But for how long?

    Down within myself

    I know this is not the truth

    But what else can I do?

    Other than being an appreciable audience.

    Everyone’s turn comes on the stage

    When mine shall come

    I would put no make up

    Give no monologues

    Only speak the truth

    Speak my heart out

    But will I be allowed?

    My brain argues with my heart

    Am I brave? Or just a scapegoat?

    Am I thinking too much?

    Or just plain complaining?

    Confusion surrounds me now

    The dark seem more bright

    As I return to my bed

    And end my day

    I shall pray

    At least in my dreams

    O Lord, let me see

    What is nothing but the truth.

    1. Autumn hues brightly dull my shine. The place I long to call home. Seasons change brings skin shed lightly. Tred on waters so calm, we are old birds with feathers left tattered. Reflections of past as if it once mattered. When your season is meant for decay and renewal. Your heart finally beats, your soul can see, your eyes glare sharp. If hums to saints are left unspoken, let your feet run until they bleed. Its a need, Not survival. For sanity. We found our footsteps. Now lets retrace

    2. There is no truth under the sky-
      it’s just the word to call an anti-lie,
      to call the substance that is bright
      and can be taken as the right,
      it is some sphere, day or night,
      it is some thing you cannot fight,
      it is a state of some-time might,
      as much uncatchable as a kite
      in the unstopping dreamy sky-
      it is a product of you and I,
      it is your just-love heart light,
      a mere vibration of the space,
      not to offend a man’s nice face.
      Ivan Petryshyn

  2. Memories

    Moments of time, planted
    In fertile beds of youth,
    Grow precious with patina of time
    Coveted by old men
    Whose true luster is realized
    By sharing with others.

  3. Distractions

    It’s late at night. I think the mood is right.
    I do feel kind of tired, but I am slightly wired.
    I think I need a snack, any excuse to distract.
    I feel a little cold. I can’t find a pencil to hold.
    There are chores to be done. Isn’t there something more fun?
    The television is callin’. My wandering mind keeps stallin’.
    I need to inspire. Music should light the fire.
    No, that song’s too slow. No, that one I don’t know.
    No, that guy’s an act. No, that guys on crack.
    A little jazz should do. That should pull me through.
    I think I need a drink. That should help me to think.
    And what about that snack? Maybe a big cookie stack.
    I wonder what’s on the news. I could use some different views.
    There are things I have to do at work. It’s easy to get caught in the murk.
    OK, I need this for me, so I can be more healthy.
    But there are things to do, to keep me from feeling blue.
    I crave a distraction, to change my reaction.
    I think I should walk the dog, or maybe a quick jog.
    That would be healthy, something to do for me.
    Anything but sit and strain, an effort to pick my brain
    That’s a really good song. I think I’ll sing along.
    Man, is it that late? Has this paper met its fate?
    I will get back to it soon…


    It’s a very civilized process
    There is no pain, why should there be fear
    This is the path I must walk
    To an unknown with a place and time
    The clock won’t slow down
    Unwanted visitors enter my space
    They compel me to move toward it
    I am overwhelmed by their number
    There is no rest on this trip
    Why don’t I stop?
    Why don’t I collapse?
    Why don’t I struggle?
    I comply with their insistence
    We pass through a significant door
    The preparations lie before me
    I surrender my body
    They secure me to my destiny
    My body is still but my heart races
    The artificial light is cold
    I have become a spectacle
    The facts are proclaimed
    All the parts start moving
    Touching me is not allowed
    The projectile penetrates me
    Why don’t I scream?
    Why don’t I shake?
    Why don’t I fight?
    The warmth has enveloped me
    Fear has taken over
    My body is relaxing
    My mind is racing
    Inside I am screaming
    The sounds do not pass my lips
    I have lost control
    I can’t see anything
    God please help me
    I am scared of the dark
    It’s hard to think
    Where am I?
    Who am I?

  5. I constantly feel on a ledge,
    Attempting to talk myself down.
    Other times bending my knees,
    Preparing to jump.

    Not jump into anything,
    But jump away…
    Away from the unknown.
    I hate it.

    Really, I fear it.
    It crawls under my skin,
    Making me itchy, restless.
    I need it to stop.

    So I bend my knees,
    Start to rise on my toes,
    Gazing into the abyss,
    But then I hear a voice.

    His voice.

    I see a smile.

    His smile.

    I feel a touch.

    His touch.

    Hot flashes.
    Skin on fire.
    A quickening of my heart.
    I feel alive.

    I take his hand.
    His lips guide me…
    Away from the ledge…
    For now.

  6. Willful Surrender

    Walls built all around.
    Sentries at every station,
    Watching and waiting.
    No one breaches the walls.

    Then you came along,
    No weapons, no plans to conquer.
    You just smile and hold my hand.
    Your lips gently brush mine.

    The walls dissolve.
    The sentries stand down.
    You rest patiently,
    Waiting for me to lower the drawbridge.

    Thank you.

  7. Kissing you Kissing me

    The road to his lips was an endless passage
    coupled with an eminent desire to be his tears,
    trickling down the side of his face
    like a calm stream in the silent forest.
    Tears that emerge from his heart
    are like a purple orchid in full bloom.
    They rest on his chin as the sun reposes on the ocean before setting,
    Satiating the unfathomable thirst of his desires.
    The crystal fire ends in the nectar of his sweet lips.

    El camino hacia sus labios es como un pasaje sin fin
    acoplado con un deseo conspicuo de ser sus lagrimas,
    cayendo en su dulce cara de niño
    como un arroyo en un bosque encantado.
    Lagrimas que emergen de su corazón
    Son como orquídeas purpurinas en retoño
    Ellas descansan en su mejilla como el sol reposa en el océano antes de
    Saciando la sed incalculable de sus deseos.
    Culminando en el fuego cristalino de el néctar de sus dulces labios.


  8. “Questions I Can Keep”

    His mind glows with the hatred of the shunned,
    It’s almost darling in a way.
    His heart beats with the violence of the numbed–
    Or was that yesterday?

    Will forty years find a kid basking in the sun,
    (Sleeping high in hell?)
    Out and down but done?
    Who can tell?

    Consultation brings me near,
    Quiet thoughts on edge of tongue
    Speak of tortured shame and fear.
    No glory from this thing has sung.

    And yet the eyes that blink are bright,
    The cataracts are falsely told.
    Is his soul a beauty, oh beckoned light,
    Or is it mold?

    Too many answers fog my tired mind,
    Not enough are what he wants;
    (Yet I believe he’ll find his kind
    Hidden in a rude séance.)

  9. My Day off from work I sleep until 3
    Get out of bed just to watch the TV
    No shower, sweatpants, hair shines with grease
    Bare walls confine me, Apathy released
    I’ll stay up til too late changing the stations
    Wasting my free time catotonic patience
    Sitting I think of new words to a song
    Wasting away, fuck it, pack up the bong

  10. Deaf Ears
    By: LaWanda Stallworth
    I am in a deaf world. No matter what I say nothing is heard. It falls on deaf ears and my hopeless expression falls on blind eyes. I speak what is manifest on my heart and it is slung back at me by the deaf as nonsense or trash. My thoughts are not misunderstood they are just unheard by deaf ears. I am in a selfish world. I give my thoughts as gifts, but selfish minds won’t let my share thoughts that are more piercing then theirs. I am misunderstood because I am not heard by deaf ears. I feel as if I have to learn sign language just to communicate with deaf ears but the ignorance in their hearts won’t let them see me. Screaming is pointless because the power that the deaf minds hold starts to silence my determination to get my point across. Now I am part of the many that choose to be silent. I am not a deaf mind I am now a silent heart….

  11. We were not the perfect ” two ” but we were the greatest ” ones “!

    In all honesty, all i wanted to do was love you…

    the good the bad the ugly.

    the parts of you that are true…

    the parts you are shamed to show.

    I wanted to hold you up; help you grow.

    I just wanted to be granted the wish of kissing your lips every time i wake up.

    look into your eye black like the universe, become starstruck.

    tongue stuck.

    You stare back as this three word, 8 letter, prison sentence crawls off my lips.

    Surprise that i could love you as fucked up as you are.

    We are all but human walking towards our own eternity,

    i just wanted you to accompany me.

    I just wanted to wipe the sweat of stress off your brow.

    watch your lips part, listen to your growing heart, build a visual of love greater the Noah arc.

    I made empty space in myself just so you can fit.

    now that you are gone,…

    All i wanted to do was love you…

    pass time, space, and life.

    If i was to leave ill come back just to love you twice.

    At night at look at the sky and scream!,

    ” My love is bigger than thee!”

    all i wanted to do was love you…

    all of you…pass eternity.

  12. Hello Houston

    I wrote you a love letter
    Telling you every bit I never knew
    Letting you know that my life story lives vicariously through you
    I watched you
    I read deep into your eyes in between margins hidden increases where you tucked them away
    Backs to covers and put to shame
    You didn’t know how to let them see the light of day
    I watched your many years of dancing around a mic fly by
    Picking up each step with grace and agility one by one just hoping each day would make it easier to reach for it
    Forcing yourself to think outside of a box that seemingly never really had you boxed in
    You kicked that square dance and let your soul seep in
    I loved you each day I knew less of your existence yet some part of me screamed your name
    Ignorance silenced my screams so I listened to your battle cries
    Torn between hip-hop and spoken word but to me it all sounded the same
    I walked with you
    Across a busy intersection
    In Houston
    In the rain
    Notebook in hand headphones in ears adding unnecessary noise to the soundtrack of inspiration that these streets never stopped playing
    Even when life’s bumps and curves scratched into those records we never stopped rocking
    Poets make the best of a rainy day
    Those tears flow perpendicular to our pen’s ink
    Our souls bleed
    Down these streets whether we stand here or not
    Whether we choose to grace this stage
    Or leave this mic standing
    We were here
    Even if you save my footprints for a sunny day
    We were made in the rain
    Walking down the street I look up and reclaim my youth
    If I close my eyes I’m back in the second row
    The last seat to your right
    You told me that
    I am a King.
    Drew out an inch from me with every word you spit
    Played tricks with my mind that burned through to my soul
    You roughly caressed the ventricles of my heart
    Picked up the pieces that had been resting in places I didn’t know to look for and put together the masterpiece I discovered when I heard you speak
    Not even spotlights could shine through me the way you do
    Burn holes into my spirit with irony that I never knew could be so funny
    Throw concepts right and left
    Entangle me into the whirlwind of your brilliance
    You are the definition of resilience
    The fire burning in your chest can destruct any corner cipher
    Slaughter any sacrificial slam poet Houston has to offer
    I envy you
    Even though I could never be you
    I will always love you
    Even if I never meet you again
    I will never forget you
    I will never forget who
    I fell in love with the night I heard Shakespeare shout out Tupac
    Mozart gave a dap to Jay Z
    And angels laughed with Biggie
    And Michelle Obama hugged the queen
    Because like you said Fuck the kingpiece
    You are endless possibilities
    You are instability
    And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  13. Life

    Life is so mysterious, so hard to explain
    Full of so much pleasure and oh so much pain
    The years have made me stronger, intelligent and wise
    Through all of the sadness and all the goodbyes
    I have pulled myself through so many storms
    The Lord has saved me in so many forms
    After all of the thunder, lightning, and rain
    The hope that lives inside me takes away all the pain
    Never judge a book by the cover
    you must open it to discover
    what lies inside someones soul
    that is what will make you whole
    Do not judge me for I am only human just like you
    All of us have done things that we wish we didn’t do
    Life has taught me so much that I could never learn from school
    One who lacks common sense is for sure a fool
    If you have lived life as I have you would know
    there is no need pretending or putting on a show
    Life is hard and full of so much that you can not control
    If you allow it to it will get the best of you it will take its toll
    For me today life is so much more then it ever was before
    I realize that we are all here for a purpose, be it big or small
    The good Lord above has a plan for us all.
    I urge you to live life to its fullest every day
    because just like that it may be taken away
    Love unconditionally, honest and true
    Treat others as you wish they treat you
    Forgive and forget it is the least one can do
    Look at life from a different point of view
    Life is so precious, we are all truly blessed
    so take a chance, give your all make it the best!

  14. Hispanics

    You may see I’m one.
    Born to be one.
    I am one!
    Descrimination toward all of us,
    Yet we are still here.
    See how we work from there
    or there.
    Observe our Intelligence,
    To be able to do,
    To get,
    To earn!
    You descriminate,
    But why?
    Are you scared?
    Are you mad?
    Or are you just territorrial?
    We are not here for anyone!
    We are here for ourselves!
    Wanting a better life,
    A better future for us and our children.
    Some hispanics just mess up everything
    for the ones who truly want to succed.
    But me I PROMISE TO-
    .Help the world understand us
    .Find peace through hatred
    .Deserve our rights
    .And so much more.
    Just as Gandhi,
    Martin Luther King Jr.,
    And Nelson Mandela
    I will fight without violence,
    No matter if death will be there by my side.
    I am proud to be an American Honduran!
    I am poud to be Honduran!
    I am proud to be Hispanic!

  15. A grandmother’s smile

    I know she wants to thank me
    But she doesn’t know how
    Hidrosis drips sit in the trough of her brow
    The pain is back
    The years and years of memories
    Come and go
    Who was born and who is deceased
    She speaks to me
    Telling me of all the wild tales
    Of heartbreak, mistakes made, going to jail
    Daring to fail
    And coming back stronger than before
    But when I go
    The strength isn’t there anymore
    Back to routine
    Waking up from a bad dream
    Looks up and around realizing it’s the same thing
    Breakfast with strangers
    Mailbox empty like her bank stock
    Channel changer falls between the wall and the bed cot…
    The a/c broken again
    Has to wheel herself out to fresh air in the den
    And she wish she could be out there with a friend
    But when others walk by she has to pretend
    Like she knows who they are cause they live next door
    But the disease inside disguises neighbors
    Dinnertime now
    Heart doesn’t know why it hurts
    But I’m faithful
    Show up everyday like clockwork
    I knock first…
    Bring in a fan to keep the room cold…
    Dig between the sheets to find the remote control…
    Smile when she say she felt like she seen me before
    Listen to her stories like the first time I heard em told…
    Some wonder why I bother
    Her own grandsons and granddaughters don’t write or even call her…
    Some days are worse than others
    But I try to treat her everyday like I treat my own grandmother…
    Because I think it’s worth it
    To see somebody smile instead of crying and feeling like they’re worthless…
    And that’s my style
    Because a life lived for others is a life worthwhile

    (written by Hidro J.)
    Life is easier when you live it for others instead of yourself

  16. Oil

    It’s here
    Poverty came to visit
    And curled itself around the house and began to paw at the doors
    Its fingers flicking in the cold drafts around the tightly barred windows
    It is systemic and inevitable and it does not rush
    The boiler coughs its last warm breath
    And Mr., young, strong, white is supposed to bear the assistance program
    Mrs. dull, gray, bureaucratic eyes tell me
    Is he an addict? Does he have an illness? Does he beat you?
    Hardly noticeable actions inquire over a stack of forms
    I stand emasculated and watch her disapprove
    And I have never wanted oil so badly in my life
    I want to breathe it and drink it and offer it to my children
    And wear the modern balm of Gilead like a coat
    That prevents the plaster from cracking and the paint from peeling
    And our stomachs from hurting and sickness from catching
    And keeps us from being papered into the walls of this dilapidated life

  17. What a Soul Is

    December, a weekday.
    The snow falls;
    It’s a perfect winter storm.
    Early dismissal comes
    crackling from ancient speakers –
    hundreds of children escape,
    backpacks bumping:
    little souls soaring.

    Twelve degrees Fahrenheit and
    the cat curls into a half moon.
    She’s warming on the bed –
    pink nosed, dazed and voluptuous
    with tuna breath, a slight snore.
    Her soul swells in front of me;
    all she needs in the world she has.

    And me,
    the iron clad kettle whistles
    from the kitchen.
    I know more about fear and dread
    than I ever imagined;
    I’m confused about God.

    Still, I stare from the window while
    the little boy from next door
    jumps into the snowbank.
    Russet curls blow across his
    porcelain forehead.
    His snowsuit is as bold as a red sailboat.
    These images shape my soul
    with a sympathetic hand.

    The long streets are still
    in the half-light of dusk,
    but, it’s in all off us, I know —
    An envelope stuffed with
    words and pictures,
    neither happiness
    nor sadness:

    a soul just is.

  18. Commonplace
    Bud Zuka – February 2009

    Two came to a place.
    You know the place well.
    You might not know that you know it.
    Only time will tell.

    The place had two out roads.
    One wide and well lit,
    The other scary, less traveled,
    Appearing unfit.

    One chose as most do
    To take the obvious choice.
    Always follow the path of others.
    Turn your back on your voice.

    Pausing only briefly
    The other bid farewell.
    Good luck on your journey.
    Hope all things go well.

    With those words he departed and
    Headed out on his own.
    Not knowing precisely which
    Life’s lessons he’d be shown.

    In the end both made it
    To the same place in time.
    One’s eyes were empty.
    The other’s sublime.

    As you come to life’s places
    With their count overflowing
    Will your eyes show no answers
    Or will they be knowing?

  19. Life is short so live it

    Why should i worry
    when i should be smiling
    why should i hurry
    when the world all around me

    People are funny
    though they never will see it
    they never have time
    though they have no where to be at

    Take over a minute
    if you think you can spare it
    enjoy your life while you still can be in it
    and look all around you
    and see what your missing

    We fly though life
    so fast that we miss it
    and only when were old
    do we still try to kiss it

    Slow down your life
    and try to enjoy it
    so where its your time to go
    you won’t have to miss it.

    turn off the tv

  20. love’s hope

    Hope is so bright.
    I can’t keep it in.
    It beaming inside me.
    I feel within.

    I am so happy.
    So joyful so free.
    I feel I can fly as high as a tree.
    so high and so higher.
    Many miles in the sky.

    My love is so giving.
    There nothing I won’t do.
    And all of my loving I give on to you.
    I ask nothing back.

    So why are you mad.
    When I’m happy and joyful.
    And your always sad.

    You bring me down.
    Down to the ground.
    Why won’t you let me enjoy
    The love I have found.

    I enjoy life so much.
    And your always my cloud.
    You keep the sunny day off me.
    And you there with a frown.

    Please learn how to see.
    All the beauty all around us.
    And enjoy all that life.
    Has decided to give us.
    And learn to smile.

    I love you.

  21. Life chain continues

    A new light approach
    Were on our way
    A new life is here
    A baby see day

    He walks
    And he grows
    He daring
    And brave

    Life is all new
    and everything perfect
    but as we get older
    and life take its toll

    Our body no longer
    will do as its toll
    Just think of the old days
    When you were a king

    And make sure to pass it
    to the little infant

  22. Encyclopedia X
    Wedged in a case, among many others
    I reminisce fondly, of a grudge tightly wound
    Hatred for my more popular brothers
    With whom—now—I find that I’m tightly bound.

    They were always more loved than I.
    Tenderly held like newborns in eager hands,
    By: students, children, those with a curious eye
    Whose minds ached for information of foreign lands;

    Searching for pictures, data, and answers.
    Wanting animals: Quail, rhinoceros, salamander, tortoise, unicorn, viper, wombat, yak, zebra
    Lion, manatee, newt, octopus, and panthers.
    But never the xenopus, xantis, xeme, xenurine, xoni, xiphias, xenops, xanthareel, or xenarthra.

    So I sat here hurt, resentful, and smoldering.
    Until the digital age. Then my hate was displaced,
    And transferred to Yahoo, Google, and Bing.
    My family forsaken, endangered, disgraced.

    Together we sit—outraged— locked in a cell.
    Like a toad caught by a child and jailed in a bottle
    Our knowledge squirms inside us—stuck in this hell.
    Enraged by technology, and the children it will coddle.

    Internet won the battle, yes it won the war
    It’s just so convenient! And in all kinds of places!
    Even in the room across from us—right through the door
    Mocking us constantly, and sneering through electric faces.

  23. The Unsuccessful Ovum

    Anxious yet confident—I’m too strong to struggle—
    Patiently waiting, biding my time as always
    I hope she’s oblivious, not counting the days,
    So in a matter of months we’ll get to snuggle.

    I’m off—silent—so near anticipated fate.
    She can’t feel me yet, she has no way of knowing
    She’ll guess soon enough—when I cling and start growing.
    Yeah! She’ll figure it out when she starts gaining weight.

    I finally made it; I’m out of the tunnel.
    It’s hot, slippery, dark—I can’t tell where I am—
    It’s lonely in here, I want out of this funnel.
    He was supposed to meet me here, where is he? …Damn!

    I hate this smart woman! She didn’t “do the deed”
    But revenge will be mine—and I’ll make the bitch bleed.

  24. My Invisible Scars

    You made me promise not to tell

    All the time you put me through hell

    Made me feel like it was my fault

    Made me ashamed that I didn’t make it halt

    What about your promises broken

    Some aloud and some unspoken

    To love and protect me and keep me from harm

    It seems everyone was blinded by your charm

    But I know the truth behind your lies

    I see the sinister in your eyes

    You I love and you I hate

    To others I can no longer relate

    Torn asunder, my soul battered

    My scars invisible, like I never mattered

  25. No, I didn’t forget

    The time we sat on your balcony
    in the dark of early morning
    and you let me inside your head.
    We talked about God,
    or lack there of,
    and our air was polluted
    with smoke and obscenities
    as you cursed the unfair world.
    I sat silently.
    Mostly listening,
    mostly taking you in,
    mostly studying you.
    The way you spoke of future plans
    which at the time included me.
    The sun found the horizon
    and caught the profile of your face,
    highlighting each perfection and flaw.
    You took your final drag
    and suggested we get some sleep
    so I followed you inside and collapsed
    right in your arms, right at home.
    With each tick of my watch
    you fell into a deeper sleep
    and as much as I wanted to do the same,
    how was I supposed to sleep
    with that paragon image of you
    fresh on my mind?


    A woman knew a baby, growing within her, destined to be cherished.
    A woman felt her baby moving, hoping to share the signs of life with his father who remained distant, cold, uninterested.

    A woman knew a newborn, with eyes of melting chocolate and pink cherubic cheeks,
    A woman felt her baby boy take hold of her heart, learning how deeply she could love.

    A woman knew a little boy, all dimples, tight hugs and laughter.
    A woman felt the pain as her son’s father turned away to pursue interests elsewhere.

    A woman knew a boy, wise beyond his years, who began to see and speak the truth.
    A woman felt the love whispered by her son sharing his thoughts that it was only his mom he knew he could depend upon.

    A woman knew a young man, but now, only from photographs and memories.
    A woman felt the severed bonds committed by the man she left, bent on revenge despite the damage inflicted on the child they created.

    A woman knew a teenaged boy, nostalgic for his mother’s love, yet tainted by his father’s false words and deeds.
    A woman felt the joy of reunion, mingling with the pain of the years lost through no fault of her own.

    A woman knew her son, once sweet and kind and giving and embracing life’s lessons.
    A woman felt the despair on the day her son revealed he had become his father.

    A woman knew a father-to-be, and hoped his son would be like the little boy she once knew.
    A woman felt an ache in her heart as she prayed the baby would not follow in his father’s footsteps.

    A woman knew of a young father, molded from his own father’s anger, who would someday lose his son and feel the agony of unfounded loss.
    A woman felt the anguish of losing a son who remained very much alive, just without her.

  27. When darkness calls me, it finds me
    sealed in the sullen, sallowed silence.
    My pain a living thing,
    to slowly tighten its strangle-hold on me.
    My life ebbing away in the stark, starless night…
    Here I am, at the end of me…
    Trying to hold on for one last reprieve.
    I wallow in remembered wishes and broken promises…
    No voice left to speak one last time…
    To tell you all I did not say but should have…
    As I slip away in the grip of darkness,
    Cold…pain-wracked…devastated that you should see…
    My weakness, the darkest side of me…

  28. My secret sadness I hide inside…
    whispers dark thoughts and pain-filled words.
    The seduction of bitter wallowing calls…
    It reaches out and embraces me.
    It feels like I’m dying inside…
    No one seems to notice.
    My mask of normality never slips…
    No one ever sees the real me.
    No one tries to peer into my soul…
    Not worth their time.
    The hunger to be needed, wanted…
    burns…it scars my soul.
    Not loved…
    Not needed…
    Why do I stay?
    Why do I fight another day?
    Everyday is exactly the same…
    I feel myself slipping away.
    Only the shell remains.
    Hollow inside.
    All that was me ebbed away…
    as my pain swallowed me whole…
    and I find I can’t even cry any more.
    For when the darkness calls to me…
    I’m already gone inside…

  29. When darkness calls me…
    I hide behind my shut eyes.
    My thoughts leap back to that moment once again.
    My words a scourge to my mind and soul…
    Said in anger, when I lost control.
    Hurtful, I said them to evoke pain in you.
    My own twisted nature causing me to inflict pain on you…
    When really I want to be saying these words to myself.
    Once said, there is no return…
    No way to gather them back.
    They scatter like so many dark, spoilt seeds…
    Catching hold in those around me.
    Breathed in, they plant themselves inside…
    There they grow, twisting their roots into you, mind body, and soul.
    They bear the dark, bitter fruit of despair…of pain…of anger…
    And upon their decay, their seeds erupt from you,
    bitter words breathed forth as the terrible cycle comes full circle.
    And now it is my turn to twist in the pain you cut from me…
    Inside my mind, our heated words replay endlessly…
    Our mutual pain we inflict upon one another.
    Always present inside my mind…
    When the darkness calls me.

  30. RENT (a poem to my cousin who passed away from HIV)

    Now that your gone a hollow space lingers in the deepths of my heart…

    I miss you.

    I asked you to stay but the obviously the demand wasn’t stern enough

    Hard enough….


    Pounding depression regrets and denial. She isn’t gone! She’s just taking time off.

    Lying to myself. With what help; my mind believing the lies I’m feeding.

    Starving foe truth.

    What’s the use? Pointless fight through the night. While time speeds through on a steady flight….

    I still miss you…

    Acceptance will never know me. I refuse to let you die. Mentally.

    The empty space travels daily in my heart.

    I’m not giving this space away anymore. So when the next person leaves me I can simply tell myself…

    I have room for rent……

  31. Blueberries

    Some of them taste sweet
    Some of them taste sour
    Some of them taste
    Like nothing at all

  32. they will say that my name was never uttered, that words never tasted the syllables of my existence.

    sitting in my room, listening to sade

    thinking about my chi-town juvie, the best

    years ago i thought i would grow out of my ruthless ways

    but then i realized, growing into them made me the person i am today

    tell me what you want, tell me what you need

    but if i don’t know, is it really that easy?

    believe half of what i see and none of what i hear

    i will not see what i can’t have forever

    i could have loved you more, if i tried

    better nights, better laughs, better times to pass

    busy focused on the past, you don’t even consider the future

    or maybe that’s just my naive demeanor.

    niggas think they know you, until they meet you,

    and even then, they still misconceive you.

    i’m through trying to convince you.

  33. lavender (in memory of Shoota)

























  34. He said all the things that must be said, for me to disappear

    Disconnected from what seemed true, my path was ever so clear

    Long nights, long fights, wasn’t nothing to me

    We just wanted to break the rules, so we did the shit we saw on TV

    Butt bustin’, mama cussin, but you still got a price to pay

    Mama might let you by, but you better believe what yo daddy say

    Knowledge is power and education is key, I just wanted to say “Look old man, your way just ain’t for me”

    I did what I had to do because the benefits are there

    But in my head, I’m in Brooklyn, sporting nothing but my underwear.

    We live a life of luxury- they say.

    Unaware, with no cares.. Not even faded by the stares

    Our only objective is to roam free. Neanderthals, maybe

    Sooner or later we all lose the things we love in life

    But the difference between us and them is, they love out of spite

    Too long had come and gone and I waited on a sign

    No matter how hard I try to distract myself

    He still remains on my mind.

    “I know you want this peter girl,”

    The line replays in my head

    But truthfully, I am at peace

    Now that they shot him dead.

    We are souls with bodies, not bodies with souls

    When I think of my love for you, my heart beats out of control

    We miss you Jj, and that will never grow old

    As long as we stay strong, our love will never fold.

    Lets go,
    to a place where only lovers go.
    Do all the things lovers do. No press. No stress.
    It can be me, you, you, and even you.

  35. Shift Happens

    Never has it ever been
    that things will always stay as they seem.
    Days and nights will never be the same
    as months and years and seasons change.
    Glaciers flow and then they shrink,
    lakes they grow and then they sink.
    Wind has no direction that is consistent,
    even light bends when gravity is persistent.
    Shifting plates causes earth to quake,
    as all is in a state of give and take.

    Minds are too busy thinking to ever reach final thought,
    as answers lead to more questions than originally we’ve got.
    Rock hard hearts melt just like Earth’s liquid core.
    Chaos needs it’s order, just as peace needs it’s war.
    In our world of constant change, revolution is a season.
    The dam will burst when the water’s high, shift happens for a reason.

  36. “Spin Cycle” by Gerald Myers Chasing demons and dragons and falliing off wagons
    Going faster and faster awaiting diaster, hopelessly chasing my tail
    Im spinning, Im spinning yet never winning
    Mumbling prayers for achieving max-fail
    ( my prayer being answered was predictable)
    Concrete and steel protect me from all of my worldly ways
    Protections not free and I’m payimg that fee with my years
    and my months and my days

  37. For Mom ” Mourning in the Morning ” By J.Myers

    Outside it’s gray and dreary it seems natures donned a shroud

    as if it feels our feelings the whole worlds head is bowed

    This drab and funeral palette so in tuned with loss and pain

    like Mother Natures mourning her tears come down as rain

    Never take for granted that there will be another day

    to get around to saying all the things we need to say

    This anniversary of sorrow somber,and austere

    only serves as sad reminder that our Mother is not here

  38. John Denver by BRANDON PAUL WEBB

    I climb all the mountains
    I see all the trees
    Listen to John Denver
    Coping with reality

    Ice forms on the mountains
    A mouth for all the streams
    Listen to John Denver
    Never stop believing dreams

    Life is what you make it
    So do the best you can
    And listen to John Denver
    Mother nature one with Man

    Slow down take it easy
    You have all your life
    Time is never easy
    How it keeps on going by

    Open up your eyes
    Time shall bring surprise
    Go ahead and try
    Just drown yourself in life

    In the hearts of Man
    You can understand
    Every dream comes true
    Only for those who stand

    I climb all the mountains
    I see all the trees
    Listen to John Denver
    Singing through a holy breeze….

  39. Spiral Glare by BRANDON PAUL WEBB

    In one corner three walls meet
    You are in between them
    Screaming out for me

    In one forest dew drips down
    From flowers growing on the ground
    And you’re falling down

    In a room one boy’s crying
    For his father who just died
    Open up your eyes

    On a plain beyond some grass
    Remain the last of The Lost
    Someone needs your hand

    In a room one boy’s silent
    From such others who made him so
    Being forgotten he became entranced in a Spiral Glare…

  40. Sin That Stains by BRANDON PAUL WEBB

    Every day
    A sin that stains
    Brands my soul
    And summons rain

    Here I stand
    A jagged edge
    I’m alive
    But I feel dead

    Every year
    I hate to face
    My fears
    So displaced

    When I think
    About this life
    I wish I could find a way
    To solve my problems and make them go away

    Sanity is going
    Far away from me
    Sometimes I get lonely
    Unhappy I’m not free

    Looking for an answer
    I’ll probably never find
    Might as well give up now
    Lord, I’m just wasting time..

  41. “The Christmas Table”

    As I look around the Christmas Table
    Arrayed with turkey and garnish
    And my aunt’s bright shiny silverware
    That never seems to tarnish
    I can picture those who once were here
    All sitting in their places
    But,now, they all have been replaced
    By those with younger faces
    And,suddenly,I realize
    As my later years draw near
    Someday my grandson
    Will fill the space
    Where I’ve sat all these years

  42. To Rest

    I fear the hour
    As night begins to press.
    Awake, but close to dreams,
    Yet, your eyelids rest.

    Softly do I speak
    Afraid I’ll be too loud.
    I rest my head to hear
    A heart beating no sound.

    By day will you wake?
    With sunrise, come around?
    Will darkness steal you
    To leave my life unbound?

    Days will never last
    And soon you’ll leave me now.
    Knives will cut frailing rope
    Splitting our scared vow.

    If that is to be,
    Should I press to cry?
    Though tears will always pour
    I should face you will die.

    I will love the days we have
    And what will come to be.
    For the days we never had
    I’ll fill with memories.

    Sleep my weary soul
    As darkness starts to press.
    I’ll see your face at dawn,
    Since love is not to rest.

  43. I’m broken down, all drawn out
    I could disappear without a sound
    Untraceable, I’m replaceable
    All the things I never said
    Because I opted for peace instead
    I’m not quiet, I’m silent
    And believe me when I tell you
    There’s nothing else we can do
    We’ve run our course,
    I’ve seen this before

    I’m all figured out, oh so tired
    Yes I’m false, but you’re the liar
    You know, and I know
    Hidden beneath this shallow sea
    Is a deep undertow yelling someone please
    Come find me, refine me
    And believe me when I say
    I think things are better off this way
    We’ve run our course,
    I’ve seen this before

    I’m a story that’s already been told
    I’m a movie with no plot left to unfold
    Forgotten, I’m rotten
    For everything I swore I’d do
    Deep down I made a new excuse
    To back out, to leave doubt
    And believe me when I say
    I think things are better off this way
    We’ve run our course
    I’ve seen this before

  44. canticle… je vous ai voulu pour toujours

    arriving single-edged in all her forms…
    amidst the swirling mist, un-veiled,
    treasured and high minded…comes the rain-goddess,
    with her wind blown hair… something from a fairy tale,
    and dressed for the occasion,
    tipped sideward with invitations to view the world upside-down she smiled…
    and waved…she behaved in that way….

    i believe in genies (jinnis)…and in those who float across the open sky
    like scatterd clouds and holidays…and in very simple ways bring about a dawning
    ..a blossoming…a giddy-ness…i believe in our fables…and in you with great clarity…

    ah, there you are…as a foreign film full of fiction and giggle…
    there’s you,
    enchanted, somehow guiding me..
    repairing detachment with the laughter while draped in the elegance of your purposed simplicity… lingering long in scenes all of your own…there’s you…
    …welcoming in the distance…

    we’re collected works now …formed by believing, possibly defying…
    we’re quick moments…messages startling and sudden…waded through…
    we’re constructed histories with layers of edits…mediums carved from implication…
    of passions and ambitions wailing…of stalled out anthems…
    we both know paths. dicta and destinations,
    should you care to notice…are more than meet the eye now…we owe each other a waltz

    ah, there you are…amid the swish of painted, rustling silks with
    your magic lamp.. your uncommon way…your roots grown deeper
    than asked for from your traditional sources and rituals…
    those grandly imperfect episodes of revealing, un-yielding, viewed
    …with others eyes and subtle public magic you snatched from the wood

    ‎…i’ve seen those pilloried in past lives…faces on stamps. i saw a republic, with eyes missing. i believed in the wild…in spring…. then i saw autumn… a thousand faces at the door…i saw those who hated very much…those of whom poets sang and ancients warned…then i saw you, your warnings and your wide, deep unblinking eyes.. ‘AAs’ as you said…shimmering in my desert……dwelling in the same places…

    i wanted to settle properly…brazenly even…into casual tones…to wash your hair
    with herbs…to wipe just one moon with promise…to sit before our fire with it’s warmth and crackle experiencing the harmony of all that…without conjured things in patterns
    and alchemy…without threads running between us. but mockingly you’ve kept a straight face,
    …swearing off fantasy, and in the fullness of our brief days i dreamt your sigh…
    ……echoing…“envie de te toucher, tu es loin”… as i stepped from shade and shadow
    ……… righteously stepping back into circulation… writing these things and such..

    i understand the seine still flows…and
    i have left a chest of things there
    …..linen and candles
    ……….things for the return
    ……………things, powders and oils of earth tones and magus
    ………………of once upon a times…of hush…

    listen for me…and when you hear the chimes of vespers, listen for my calling

  45. dearest

    ah, there you are
    i’ve been hoping you’d arrive soon

    superstition held such tricks after all
    …its need to fumble
    its processions of power with pretense and so forth…now you
    …in perfect tense
    …in things you ask

    courting comes slow for me…
    its rituals
    its grandly imperfect episodes
    revealing, yielding, viewing myself with others eyes

    dearest you…scolding my being surprised…
    hold this moment for me
    i’ll come around
    i’ve waited…and yearned for
    that rare payoff

    like a foreign film full of smile, of fiction and giggle,
    there’s you, enchanted, repairing my detachment
    while draped in elegant simplicity
    …and lingering long in scenes all of your own

    your laughs bringing me from corners
    and all their straight lines
    or words and when to use them
    …learning your ballads when you’ve left the room

    ah, there you are
    amid the swish of painted silks and rustling poets…
    your lamp of good news in your uncommon way
    …turned to thought and season, me dangling there

    glowing, as if having slipped from a sacred place
    as fragile and gentle
    …as naked trees in warm rains
    … about you as a saffron metaphor
    on a sunlit autumn day

  46. easy, with reason to picasso

    arriving single-edged in satin shoes and all her forms,
    walking amid the swirling mist, un-veiled, gentle,
    treasured and high minded like the rain-goddess, with her
    un-swept hair as something from a fairy tale,
    deliberate and dressed for the occasion, tipped sideward
    she smiled…and waved. she behaved in that way.

    those paintings are not mine to keep yet, still
    just canvas reminders of a bad storm system back talking,
    still impalpable, though our eyes sharpened together
    for a while on their surfaces. something else enlisted her,
    her good strange form of clarity best held for reinforcement.

    i remember her standing brilliant among contrasting colors
    and depictions, among monsters turned to flora and recognizable things.
    i said ‘i love you’ aloud then, beneath the sylvette david and waved
    my arms toward the flicks of gray, soft, confounding brush strokes.

    i’d requested a motto, a message, a thing stitched together i could fix
    if need be. there was the faint noise of her kiss as i traced her shoulders.
    there, delicate and convincing, was the shaking of her head, our own untitled series
    and the tone of a bell long ago rusted which now breaks inside of me.

    ‘i love you’, i said to our silence darker than i recall, on the street side,
    between the lions, as she and chicago wrapped around me. i did not look back
    upon where this rare moment might carry us,
    nor gird,
    nor feel the release.

    i have continued for a time, like foam and waves cast out… and drawn back in.

  47. Let’s start a new chapter
    To the story we’ve all heard before
    The one where you wake up
    Screaming on the bedroom floor

    The screams are silent
    And you can’t remember your dreams
    Engulfed by the misery that follows
    Which leaves you as vulnerable as ever

    So take whatever you can get
    Because I know exactly how you feel
    And the nights will not let you forget
    Which makes all the effort worthless

    You might as well just sleep

    Attempt to shake off the sense of regret that
    Hangs like a rock in your heart
    And you’ll never get back on your feet.

  48. Pandora’s Box

    Broken dreams of shattered faces.
    Faded print of ruined spaces.

    Blood stained ground from lovers rent.
    Hollowed chests of oaths not meant.

    Blazing remnants,
    Splintered figments.

    Beloved heart-shaped Debris.

  49. Dancing in the Darkness

    I dance in the shadows of darkness
    With a reflection I cannot see.
    I can’t see anything but what of it?
    We know all the steps, her and me.

    I never wanted to learn the dance,
    Never wanted her to live for me,
    Never wanted to live a lie,
    And flee my memories.

    My partner, she looks like me,
    Except she knows how to smile and laugh.
    She loves and everyone loves her.
    She has the things I used to have.

    I don’t want to be her puppet,
    Condemned to eternal night.
    But perhaps it’s really my fault
    For being unable to stand the light.

    But what would everyone say
    If light destroyed my dark?
    If they saw the shadowmancer?
    If they saw inside my heart.

    If I stopped my dancing at dusk,
    And walked freely at high noon,
    And allowed them all to see
    What I show only to the moon?

    If I let the light illumine
    Everything he’s ever done,
    If I finally stop hiding
    And let the illusion come undone,

    What would the world think of me?

    Would they stop and stare?
    Would they send me away,
    As the scourge that can’t be bared?

    Worse yet,

    What if they don’t believe me,
    And they send me back once more,
    After tasting beautiful light,
    Into the shadows where I was before?

    To dance my nighted dance,
    To hide again in shame,
    To endure it all alone,
    To never be the same.
    To never live again,
    To exist only as a name,
    With a fabrication leading my life
    In a sick, twisted little game.

  50. So what do you see?
    It’s commonly asked to me.
    Because color is not in my brain registry.

    Is this blue? Is this black?
    Come on tell us, what color is that?
    You know your color abilities are something to laugh at.

    Well what’s so strange?
    It doesn’t cause me to be deranged.
    Unlike your skill to make your brain chemistry change.

    You call it your mood, you call it emotions
    It seems that it changes like the ocean
    Those feelings inside of you cause a lot of commotion

    So I’m blind to color and to feelings
    Both things I can’t learn from teachings
    This doesn’t mean I’m doing the devil’s dealings

    Accept me for who I am
    Trust me this wasn’t my plan
    Life is crazy and kills slower than quick sand

    I’m just trying to live my simple life
    You say living without color isn’t right
    You say living without hope, how can I get through the night?

    I just put my head on my pillow
    And look up at the sky
    And before I know it I can see a faint gray light.

  51. You say you feel alive, but your space grows defined

    Fought battles with myself when discord depleted my supply.

    It’s been hours since I’ve been in a comfortable state

    It’s been years since I’ve been set with our fate

    I’ll talk a little louder so you’ll certainly hear,

    These misinterpretations that seemed so clear

    The fissures in my pretense will, in time, make sense

    When I’m tired and used,

    and you’ve found the bruise in my impassable defense

    Our tie is a vine of the trickiest design

    Your sour lines are dry, as you swallow them with wine

    i wish I had the means of burning the bridge that leads to you

    you’ve established as the gate blocking my escape route

    I swear I control every inch of my soul

    I am past your conflictions; I promise that I’m whole

    but will you make this one admission: were we just a pipe dream?

    you set limits on my view, now it’s too dark to see.

    You took a critical fragment of me

    And hid it away in a nameless sea

    I’ve nearly forsaken this difficult strife

    But ill come back for you and instill in you, life.

  52. i search forever in this sea, deep and blue

    too many fish look the same as you

    cuz all that i’ve been angling

    caught up with me and changed some things.

    you’ve got a hook line and sinker in my heart

    it’s been digging at me slowly, tearing me apart,

    don’t drag me along, can’t stay on the line anymore

    ill say goodbye now and nurse my open sore.

  53. I am bitter
    And you are sweet
    Hurt has made me wary
    But your ways make me complete
    I am acceptance
    And you are denial
    You stand alone in the embrace of ease
    I hold my own in this downward spiral
    I am dawn
    And you are dusk
    I’ll make the sun rise for you
    But you won’t look up

    I am land
    And you are sea
    My haven will protect you
    And your boat will find my refuge
    I will give
    And you will take
    I offered you my heart
    In a bed of lies I wait

    I am water
    And you are fire
    My waves will crash over you
    Your flames ignite my desire
    I am without
    And you are within
    I crave you and I always have
    Let the weight of my affliction sink in

    I am land
    And you are sea
    My haven will protect you
    And your boat will find my refuge
    I’m in the ground
    And you’re in the sky
    I’m buried in lost memories
    I’ll watch you fly away-
    without a goodbye

  54. For Now (Nothing Is Ever Enough)

    For now
    I’ll just hold him
    Feel my warmth enfold around him
    Not think about what I know has to be

    It’s not that I don’t love him
    It’s that something comes above him
    And that something is crying out to me

    I feel it swimming in me
    This pent up creativity
    Screaming so loud to be heard

    If I remain in this trance
    Just to stay in this romance
    I won’t be allowed to speak one word

    I’ve always been haunted by
    Things I’ve always wanted, I
    Know that the price is high

    But it can’t be any other way

    You can’t put me in a box
    Hold me down with chains & locks
    Then sit back & watch

    While I suffocate

    The madness that breathes in me
    Could come out so easily
    My struggle is just to exist

    Please keep me in your heart
    When you know that I might fall apart
    I never asked for any of this

    It just is what is

    I don’t have any choice
    I must let them hear my voice
    This goes beyond you & I

    I wanted you to come with me
    Feel the magic & be set free
    But you choose to shrivel up & die

    I don’t know why
    I don’t know why
    I don’t know why

    The drive & the need
    Have planted their seed
    They need to be freed
    Need to be believed

    I never wanted normal things
    I cringe when I hear a child screaming
    Want to hop back in my bed
    Continue dreaming

    The only man who will want to be with me
    Is one who is able to see
    The wizard has the curtain closed
    It’s not what I would have chose

    To be so aware of the absurdity
    Maybe there’s no hope for me
    When I know what I can’t be

    I can’t be normative
    Can only try to live
    In this strange world I’ll never understand

    And way down deep inside
    In that place I try to hide

    I’ll pray to a god that has never heard me
    Pray for a love to come & save me

    Knowing all the time
    I’m just wasting my time
    I’m just losing my mind

    Cause no one’s gonna care that much
    or dare love one so out of touch
    With reality

    I’ll just be lonely
    I’ll just be lonely
    I’ll just be lonely

    You’re all lost in your drama
    You’ve put on all your Armour
    While I lay myself naked before you

    I feel death’s constant presence
    So I am left defenseless
    This is just something I am forced to do

    Knowing the price for me
    You’ll whisper “Oh she’s crazy”
    & go on with your little lives

    Or else you’ll put me down
    Wish I was not around
    To force you to open up your eyes

    Can I get just one of you to understand
    I’m losing the love of my life
    I can’t close the veil
    On everything I feel

    I can’t be a mother & a wife

    I can barely breath most of the time
    & my smile is not really mine
    If I smile enough
    Will you give me the love
    That might keep me sane
    In this torturous game
    Where nothing is ever enough?

    by L.A.P. 2008

  55. The Awakening

    See her in the corner shaking
    Is she something in the making
    Torn in two
    Inside she’s blue
    Longing for the awakening

    Puzzled by the brevity
    Good feelings rise then cease to be

    Courage is to maintain breath
    Climb inside & view the depths
    Creation whole
    It sears the soul
    Please let me go
    & embrace death…

    By L.A.P. 1/6/09

  56. Love Is Nothing

    Love is nothing
    Give me pleasure instead
    I’m tired of letting
    Love get inside of my head

    I’m tired of knowing
    What I’ve always known
    Something inside me
    Means I’ll wind up alone

    Love is nothing
    When I can drown out the pain
    Lift up my spirits
    & keep myself sane

    It’s not worth the trouble
    Of living in fear
    Give in to the feeling
    Then watch it disappear

    Love is nothing
    But an elusive thought
    Can I ever grab it
    Maybe-Maybe not

    Filled up with envy
    Maybe some grief
    Want what others have
    However brief

    The feelings don’t last
    Smothered by hurt
    Build up some trust
    Then get thrown in the dirt

    Dust myself off
    & start to sing
    Just F__K it all
    Love Is Nothing…

    by L.A.P 10/31/08

  57. You only need a second to breathe
    one moments relief to block out the grief
    calm down the disaster, let time clear the air
    let rainstorms and great floods wash away the despair
    Just one brief inhale to try to regain
    your posture, and you try to feel sane
    but your lungs are shut tight in pain
    every breath you take comes at a cost
    every seconds peace comes with somebody lost
    You have to breathe, you have to survive
    even if sometimes its not worth being alive
    times when trouble seems to haunt you with glee
    times when you bend down and pray to god when you’ve never believed
    Life pulling out strings, ripping a fabric you can’t mend.
    time to hold your breath and wait for an end

  58. I take my chance on the open route
    with barren feet and a sad soft tune
    carry on my way for once
    hitting the trail kicking up dust
    its been so long since I could smile
    in this humdrum town yeah it’s been awhile
    since I looked up to the stars to watch them shine
    had a home that I could say was mine

    It’s time that I get myself out of here
    feet take me to a place where I can hear
    the beautiful songs of the autum wind
    like the sweetest sound on the mandolin
    I’ll take my chances just know I’m gone
    I’m searching to find my internal song
    The highways empty I walk alone
    where is the place that I can call home?

    My cheeks stained with sand and sundried tears
    where could I belong after twenty years
    but the sun is shining
    the road keeps winding
    I’ve still got so far to go
    where I’m headed I don’t quite know

    I’m searching for the sound of the soft guitar
    blowing in the breeze, or in a rundown bar
    I’m waiting for a voice to sing with mine
    I’m on the look for what few men find
    You can’t escape your destiny
    but this one that I’m livings not meant for me

    I will be something someday for that I’m sure
    until then I can’t stop wanting more
    so I’ve wander far from a familiar place
    I’ve dissapeared from my life and I left no trace

    I hold on close to my savior, my guitar
    though I’ve traveled wide and I’ve gone so far
    I’m still the person I always was
    Just one more town I left in the dust.

  59. Early in the Morning

    Early in the morning,
    When the sun is soft—
    Barely touching the day,
    I wake hearing you and think,
    ‘The best part of my world is now underway.’
    Early in the morning,
    You gently climb back in bed
    Wrap me up in your arms,
    And cradle my head.
    I smile,
    And sigh,
    And settle right in.
    My head on your chest,
    Just under your chin.
    Early in the Morning
    I know what I’ll see,
    It’s the man who I love,
    Leaning over me.
    We’re alone in the world
    Only the two of us,
    Wrapped up in each other,
    I don’t want to move.
    At that very moment,
    It all becomes clear,
    All I’ve ever wanted…
    Is to be with you here.
    —The Beginning—

  60. I’ve been told there are many, many fish in the sea,
    But I’ve found one who is just right for me.
    I’ve got my rod ready to go, with bait at the end.
    So many fish are taken, this has become the trend.
    It doesn’t matter which body of water you are in,
    I will find you, through the storms and the wind.
    I will travel the world to find you in the blue.
    Anything to get me closer to you.
    I have become an expert fisher over the years,
    I’ve enjoyed the laughs; I’ve survived the tears.
    I’ve sailed the water for many of time,
    I’ve caught many fish, and lost many right off of the line.
    I’ve thrown some back, and I’ve been thrown back as well,
    But we all need these experiences, as far as I can tell.
    They have brought me to where I am today,
    Fishing for you, in this water I stay.
    I have let fish go before, and it’s sill there to haunt,
    But I won’t let you go, you’re the fish I need, the fish I want.
    I can wait until you’re in my boat,
    I’m here to stay, above you I float.
    Waiting to draw you in, and have you to keep,
    I can fish in the shallow waters and the deep.
    I will do what I have to, for you are my wish,
    For I am the fisherman, and you are my fish.

  61. It must be hard to face the facts,
    When you’re too scared of looking back.
    You’re delicate and fragile, we are both aware,
    But with these characteristics, it’s just not fair.
    Because when you use your anger, I can fight the tears.
    But whenever I open my mouth, I live in fear.
    How can the right thing be said, when there’s nothing right.
    How can we make this work, when we only fight.
    I’d like to make amends, and make us fine,
    But day by day, we keep crossing the line.
    Would it be better if I just don’t open my mouth?
    Cos everytime it’s opened only harsh words come out.
    I don’t want to yell, or scream at you,
    But we never agree, we both know it’s true.
    It’s a never ending fight, we’re on opposite ends,
    We can’t even talk as if we were friends.
    On this see-saw, one of us goes up, the other goes down,
    Within seconds we can manage to turn it around.
    How can one of us win, when we never give up?
    We must listen to our conscious, enough is enough.
    So I’d like to shake your hand and call it a tie,
    We’re both old enough now to open our eyes.
    And see this isn’t working, it needs to come to a stop,
    And we can both start over, from the top.
    So here we go, it ends right now.
    The show is over, the curtains are drawn, and we must bow.

  62. Most people go to Florida when they retire.
    A friendly pool outside their sliding doors.
    A shuffleboard waiting for dentured men to play.
    Florida isn’t for me, though.
    I don’t want to live with Gertrudes and Harrys.
    I want to live with Francescas and Michaleles.
    I want to live my last breaths in Italy.
    The cobblestone and my weak bones won’t mix well.
    But the sunrises and sunsets will always make it worth it.
    I want to climb the stairs with all I have left.
    And see the city of Florence one more time.
    The churches I hung outside of.
    The apartments I lived in.
    And the streets I walked up and down countless times.
    That will be the way I leave this world.
    And if Heaven is what I want it to be.
    It will be like nothing happend at all.

  63. “The moon,
    A perfect audience
    To a young, and aspiring
    Poet, such as your
    Self” said my guru,
    “your home being of the sky

  64. We don’t speak up/out
    When our throats are being choked.

    When our hearts don’t emanate love,
    Whats the flow for?
    And wheres the blood go?

    If I can’t even stomach my food,
    How can i stomach the p.m news?
    (I spit up bile and mucus,
    if ignorance is bliss)

    Our roots are so fucking deep
    We cant just up and leave
    To space;
    We have this world to save!

    Our third eyes’, when they connect,
    As we kiss,
    Is enuf to notice patterns
    cycles, and loops in history and our thought processes.
    Is enuf to travel through your history,
    ebbing as crests and swooping as crescents
    into moments, and experience

    Noticing the loop is just the first step
    In applying force to move towards
    vertical thoughts.
    Exiting through the crown(of thorns)


    A Blue crow is flying to the East.
    A Blue crow,
    Where’re you going?
    A Blue crow,
    Stay with me for a second, please!..
    A Blue crow…
    A Blue crow…


    A painted wee man
    A balloon.
    Then he drew a window,
    Opened it wide
    And flew out
    Into the real


    Apples are laughing un the garden.
    A pair of grinning boots is running to work.
    A flock of leaves is flying by,
    Cackling and giggling.

    Here is a smiling umbrella!

    A newspaper is chuckling in the mailbox.
    Clouds in the sky are roaring with laughter.
    Raindrops jump into the puddle and —
    PLOP!!! —
    Happy splashes everywhere!

    An old hat is sitting on my head,
    Beaming with joy!!!

  68. Daddy’s Little Girl

    Daddy don’t cry for me for i’ll be allright wipe those lonley tears from your eyes Close your eyes for daddy’s little girl will make it.

    Despite trials and sorrow things will be all right
    I keep my head up high and try to be who I need to be
    Life is to short to feel sorry about things that happen but life goes on remember that
    As the breath of life leaves my body remember that it will be all right close your tired and sore eyes for things will be all right
    Love daddy’s little girl


    Ode to the darkness
    That trembles beneath
    Warped harmless
    By hero’s sword free from it’s sheathe

    A fairy-tale story (with cookies!?) is excellent
    Full of sound effects, voice-overs and dance
    From a glossy book or the mouth of a parent
    Sci-fi, fantasy, action…romance?

    Good night and sleep tight
    Relax deeper and close your eyes
    Never fear things that snap and bite
    Freedom and adventures be your prize

    Envelope yourself in bedding
    Be mail’d off to Morpheus’ Keep
    Daytime worries, they be shedding
    And not one more single peep

  70. Agoraphobia

    If I smoke to much I might burn down the house
    If I burn down the house I will have to go outside
    The sound of mockery bleeds through pressed lips
    The taste of laughter burned into this impartial pallet
    Always something new to say
    Never anything new to see
    The sky is falling and I need another cigarette

  71. Ode To The All Night Binger

    It was to be an all night binger,
    With an oh so sweet, yet lonely, stranger,
    Who took me into here lovely chamber,
    From here, would reside, the all nite binger.

    And there upon the table I stared,
    Completly in awe, and totally unaware,
    In anticipation, that which I cannot bare,
    True beauty, beyond all that to compare.

    She guided me into her room by the hand,
    So smooth was her touch, that I could not even stand,
    Just a quick look; you know her room was quite grand,
    But thoughts soon drifted, back to her sweet suculent hand.

    “Come, sit here.”, she had cooley stated,
    My heart raced, for the time was much anticipated,
    So close now to me are the lies most hated,
    All those things are now hooked, lined and baited.

    Then in my lungs, I held in the smoke,
    I could not hardley wait for the nexy poisinous toke,
    And then, like some cruel and unfunny joke,
    Just like that, the fucking pipe broke.


    So ended the all night binger,
    Nothing more to do but to sit and to linger,
    To the streets I am tossed, with just a middle finger,
    In anticipation I shall wait for the next all night binger.

  72. The River in her eyes.

    i see the river flowing. in her eyes.
    its bright as blue. amazing…. like the sky
    it keeps flowing. and always keeps going.
    i’d loved her all this time without her even knowing
    people try to pollute it, and boys tried to puruit it
    but she just ignored it, and continue to mute it
    at times it may get bumpy over the rocks.
    but she stays strong and she never stops.
    even at hard times when things get hot
    she never dries up. all the past is forgot
    she saw alot of fish. and she never knew which
    she made one wish. to have one to live her life with
    there’s so much fish in the sea. so much for her to see
    but i jumped right in, and then she chose…me

  73. ~ The Covenant ~

    Brother of my only kind,
    Word and poise and mind,
    Tears have flooded through your years
    And conquered mighty fears.

    Nothing fair is it in war,
    Adders with adders concur
    To ravage and knife thee,
    Carouse air out of me.

    Yet grand truth shall I say:
    Sun will rear as from to-day!
    Bereft though you, lovely, are,
    Not one your peace anew mar.

    Your soul unto me bare,
    Entrust thee unto my care,
    Avert not love-beggarly eyes…
    I heal, not hearken to lies.

    Shall not chide, but tend thee,
    Love like as God, defend thee.
    Hence such do I hauntingly vow:
    You wilt not die hither and now!

    Swaying bridges not thee halt,
    Cast out not, invisible fault!
    Soft of heart in heart secure.
    Its space of infinities all endure.

    Within heart’s realm of mine
    Infancy for-ever will shine,
    Growing down and chronically old
    Be extincted in wise bold.

    I have split such realm open,
    The aches of which have not spoken.
    For yours outlive them hundredfold,
    I have seen and by He am told.

    Unlike them, I shall thee content,
    Vials of scents and nectar sent,
    Let thou play with lambs each day,
    Pipe dulcet lays of early May.

    Such do I hungrily vow:
    You will not die hither and now!
    Enshrouded fast in hearty there,
    Your meat the boars’ll daren’t share.

    Sun will rear as from to-day!
    Such grand truth do I say.
    Storm-tossed though, lovely, are,
    Not once your peace anew mar.

    Your precious soul unto me bare,
    Entrust you unto my care,
    Avert not love-beggarly eyes…
    I save, give chant to skies.

    Shall not maim, but tend thee,
    Love like as God, re-mend thee.
    Hence such do I hauntingly vow:
    You wilt die not hither and now!

    You not ever will do, my life!
    On God, on you, on me, on strife!
    Hither, in me you’ll live to vow
    You can not die more now.

  74. A sensation of strings and manipulation.
    Like being put under a spot light, now burning a hole in your memories
    so that you bleed out truths into the crowd of grimacing ex-friendships.
    When you feel like everyone hates you, they have to.
    Dirty windows blink awkwardly in your direction, their mouths dry from empty words and jealously interrupted staring.
    I am uncomfortable when your crystal ball isn’t clear,
    when you set on the edge of certainty and hover in a smirk or ignorance
    as if knowing your fate was never an option.
    Decisions, decisions, and the devil’s adventure into my heart,
    unwelcome, but here to stay.
    We musn’t argue with our guest, dear.

  75. For you my love
    My darling.

    Don’t we two, sisters
    pump all the wrongs from our breast
    Breathe all the hurt from our lungs
    Bleed all the apologies from our wombs
    Of every woman?

    Don’t we all, sisters
    Rub our knuckles raw
    Battering at the beating door
    Desperate to be let in

    Isn’t it easier, sister
    To wrap away our hearts
    In fine tissue paper
    And a velvet box,
    Saving them from every rainy day?

    But the beating is our bloodline
    And you sister, found my vein and stuck the needle deep
    Thick venom flows through my poetry
    Until the words run clear
    And pain, passion, love, and fear alike
    Bleed into a pool below your ear

    Take my innerds, sister
    Take them as you always do,
    Urge me to display them to the world
    And tell me they are beautiful.

    I’ll take your innerds, sister
    The most mangled of your guts
    I’ll provide a satin cushion,
    Make them crystal clear, and timeless in the sun

    For you, Marco Polo, sister
    Lead the way for me and many
    You unclogged something so over-sewn in me
    And I am the lighter for it
    Keep breathing life into your adjectives,
    Sister, speaker, lover, poet.

  76. Not that i expected anything since it never ends up how one would think. whenever you think someone is wrong or right, eventually you heart will change your mind.

    if one would stop with holding on to so many tired expectations, the excuses for the tears and pain would become reasons to stop waiting.

    so many demand love from others yet don’t really love themselves, funny how they rely on others to bring happiness when within an empty shell.


    1. This is my adaptation of what a normal suburban life would feel like if it consumed you to the point of your own hell.

      Blinking damsel
      all covered in vile
      Dying slowly
      oblivious to what remains
      Cemented feet
      Weighting your way
      Bearing through
      daily life’s pains
      Finally buried you
      where it wants you
      Shadows of blackness unveiled
      Over taking your strenght
      Taking away all the sin
      To be what you need to be
      Hide & deny your hopes & dreams
      All that’s recognizable are
      the demons within
      Wicked trenches flooding your soul
      Teasing you into submission
      Ultimate realties trapped in muck
      Constantly sucking you in
      You reach for help above you
      No one around but your skin

      1. Dated this guy awhile back that would come into town swoop me off my feet & promptly leave me in the dust. This was a poem I wrote after I finally freed myself of him.

        Run Bird

        Swoops in from afar
        I attempt to turn away
        But my thirst quells
        You landed to close
        Entered my soul
        Opened my eyes
        To a new life
        One where I refocus on myself
        Makes me wanna

        Run Run Run Run

        Followed your lead
        Almost missed out on myself
        You clipped my wings
        Took off on your own flight
        Leaving me in the dust
        All I could do was

        Run Run Run Run

        It doesn’t matter you turned out to be a myth
        A lost cause, a hot mess
        You released me to the wild
        Mind, body & spirit renewed
        Now I don’t have to

        Run Run Run Run

        Now every time you call
        You dig a deeper hole
        You’re busy doing nothing
        All you do is

        Run Run Run Run
        Leave it all behind
        Run Run Run Run
        Not another word
        Run Run Run Run….
        Fly on Bird

    2. Been thinking a lot of homeless people after being mistaken as one last week. This poem came out of those thoughts.

      Lady of the streets

      Wonder how she arrived
      Upon her roadside shanty
      Night air makes her shiver
      Longing for home makes her shake
      She brushes feelings aside
      Can’t focus on the reasons why

      Calls out to the world, can you spare some change

      Tries to focus on her sleep
      Cars constantly rushing by
      Staring but never giving her a notice
      People avoid her sad eyes
      Ashamed of what she’s become

      Calls out to the world, can you spare some change

      She’s confused, taunted by her lost ways
      Faith keeps her from easing her pain with death
      Doesn’t want to me another statistic of the street
      She waits in line for hours
      For just a little to eat
      Her shelter under the bridge
      Clouds tomrrows & fades today

      Calls out to the world, can you spare some change

      Whispers of her sorrows
      Are all the remains
      The cold touch weakens her
      Reminds her of all who left her behind
      Her gaurentees were broken
      Shattering the hope that was once her bind
      Never longing anymore
      For her place in the cruel world
      Her fix is all that guides her
      Eases her pain into her self demise

  77. The Picture Frame

    Golden memory
    Encased in rectangular glass.

    I can still recall the amazing moment
    Of that crimson kiss.

    Swirling sands,
    Mystical moon.
    There’s no way
    I’ll see her soon.

    On the beach,
    Under the stars,
    Our last meeting
    Wasn’t very far.

    Next to my bed
    Placed in a reassuring position.
    Last thing I see
    As I shut my heavyweight eyes.
    First thing I see
    As the new dawn welcomes me.

    I just want that chance
    To kiss the beautiful girl
    In this fantastically-built
    Picture frame.

    Copyright © October 15, 2010 Z.M. Weiss

  78. Setting Sun of Albuquerque

    Yellow turns to orange
    Which turns red.
    Time for the gigantic
    Globe of light to sleep.

    Looks so peaceful
    Setting over the hills
    And towering over
    Sandia and her friends.

    How I wish to slumber
    With the setting sun of Albuquerque.
    Such a longing, incredible vision.

    Not a raincloud in the sky.
    Just stars opening their beady eyes.
    The day has come to a predestined end.
    Now the tribal night is my friend.

    Copyright © August 10, 2010 Z.M. Weiss

  79. My End

    I shall describe my end
    To you like this, my friend.

    O’ tall grass…
    Warm trees…
    I can tell it like it is
    With the best of ease.

    I’ve done all I did.
    I’ve said all I’ve said.
    I’ve slept with my wife.
    I’ve lived my life…

    …With such grace.
    Look at my aging face.
    Look and see what you want to see.

    Lie me down on my deathbed.
    And now as I lay thy head down,
    I can see that you all frown.

    So live your best and don’t ask why.
    These are my last words as I draw my last breath…and die…

    Copyright © July 5, 2010 Z.M. Weiss

  80. Letter to my Bedroom

    I’m sorry that my roommate was rude to you.

    He doesn’t know you like I do.

    How welcoming you are to objects on your floor, even when you don’t have the room for them.

    How patient you can be, and non judgemental.

    I’m sorry I don’t clean or organize you often enough.

    I want you to experience all that life has to offer, and that includes the inevitable battle with entropy.

    I don’t want to accept reality and grow up, and cleaning you means i’ll have to do that, and right now, that’s too big of a step to take. So you’ll have to excuse me for not dusting, because i’m just not ready for that level of commitment.

  81. “Woman”

    Play house, feed dolls,
    Wear pink, “be good,”
    Be quiet, be coy

    Work hard, but not too hard.
    Be smart, but not too smart.
    Find a man. Get married. Have babies…

    From birth to death, trained to cater to others,
    To care for others, to connect with others.
    What about connection with the self?

    Self doesn’t have a favorite color.
    It doesn’t need to be coy.
    It can be as intelligent, strong, and hard-working as it wants.
    It doesn’t need a husband.

    Cover your ears
    And find your self.

  82. The College House

    She sits on the corner
    As though she is holding her place in line
    Her brittle outsides repelling both the lingering tranquility and
    the raging search for identity
    She is resilient.
    She has been for years.

    The harvest gold siding, perhaps once a sunshiny yellow, clings helplessly
    Warn almost through, the underneath facing the cold in rags.

    The prickly apron of whatever grass is left
    is littered with an old pumpkin from Halloween and an abandoned Keystone can but
    Somehow it grounds the stairs from flying away with the airplanes overhead.

    The porch is slippery with mold
    The railing barely supporting the silken spider mansion that sways in the breeze.
    The tree outside is dead and the soggy leaves rot sweetly underneath.

    The past months have been ordinary outside
    Nothing more than the cars moseying by and
    the occasional wafting of bus exhaust strangling the scrubby bushes.

    Inside though laughter bubbles from the basement.
    There is a chorus of voices
    The boom of the bass and the words slink towards the windows.
    People gather

    To mingle
    and to rest
    To escape reality
    Or maybe to escape unreality

  83. Shadow Self

    My shadow self has dreadlocks
    All multi colored and adorned with wooden beads

    She drinks green tea out of a mason jar
    and then when it is gone screws the lid on crooked

    She carries a battered notebook made from handmade paper
    and scribbles words and thoughts so she can save them for later

    She smells like incense and cinnamon
    and she she revels in walking in the wind skirt and spirit fluttering around her

    1. enjoyed this poem best it was short and I like the images my mind could see as I read it I was pleased……

  84. Once I Was the Sun

    Once I was the sun
    I was the center of the orbit
    Then the world shifted

    The children left the playground
    They went to work

    Then I was a ham sandwich
    left under the slide for the flies

    Then I shifted
    I climbed inside my brain
    And sat down to rest

    Then I was a candle

  85. By heart
    By heart
    I sang to thee
    To not spill the sacred water
    Is not to be free
    By heart
    By heart
    Thy shall not suffer
    For what I tell to thee
    Is what lays under
    By heart
    By heart
    Thy’s pulse is strong
    Never to return to the day
    The passion of the night
    Is perhaps where I have been all along
    By heart
    By heart
    I watch thee threw the dust
    Never to see enough
    Have got to rub the rust
    Rub the rust from my eyes
    Rub the rust from my veins
    By heart
    I promise
    Never to return again
    By heart
    With nothing to utter
    Nor scream
    Nor plead
    I’ll never speak a word again
    By heart
    For I do not need

  86. Pain and Shame

    I feel pain to my right, pain to my left, pain in front, and pain behind;
    Hurt by the truths that I find…

    The voice of a child that cries;
    as the sound of thunderous clouds echo in the sky.
    Are we setting this stage?
    Forever locking ourselves up in a cage?
    Where can I go where there is no pain?
    Peace is all I desire to attain.

    Two kids have died
    a suicide bombing.
    Fifty are dead…
    in a blanket retaliation!

    It’s an outrage…angry, so fucking angry!
    Trapped in this invisible cage of rage,

    I ask the heavens, why must the children die?
    Is it in the name of Allah and the coming of the Messiah?

    Families torn apart,
    There is no answer that can satisfy the heart.

    There is no gain , in the pain;
    no message to attain,
    when a child is slain.
    Tell me…what do our hearts contain?

    I shed a tear
    because in my heart, a child’s cry is all I can hear;

    My biggest fear:

    This virus spreads worldwide,
    with no place to hide,
    the death of compassion as we choose not to abide.

    Because we forget to remember
    the children follow us with the faith that we know better.
    This we promise, but have yet to deliver!
    We proclaim “RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!”
    A prophet determining our rank and file.

    It comes with a huge fee,
    Our way of living free.
    The shame will last;
    The truth of our present will be our children’s past.
    Which denial helps us ignore!
    Living in the life of the everyday whore!

    Shame to my right, Shame to my left, Shame in front, and Shame behind…
    That is now all that I find in my mind.

    © DH

  87. Shadows of an Angry Heart

    It’s been too long
    since I have put pen to paper
    to see what feelings will come out.

    It’s been too long
    since I have put pen to paper
    to see what feelings can come out.

    An open letter
    to whomever chooses to read:

    Shadows of an angry heart,
    an angry soul and a heartless body,
    fall where I once lay happy and content.

    Screams echo in my ears of past heartbreaks and losses.
    screams of those who could have loved me,
    screams of those who no longer do.

    Spinning around, I wish that everything be clear;
    wishing that when my eyes open it will all disappear.
    But for now all I can see is green grass through dripping tears;
    my spirit crouched in a corner; a horrible thought appears.

    The thought whispers, “Do not go on…”

    I reek of Regret!
    I reek of Self-pity!
    I reek of Guilt and Shame!

    FOR…i do not deserve the love i am not GIVEN!

    © DH

  88. Freak Nation

    Projected in a dream;
    Lost in the moment…
    We are the children of the night
    Hypnotized by the neon lights.

    Beings forgotten;
    Too often deemed rotten…
    We sat with the pain
    To live our lives in cut-marked stains.

    Then IT came near;
    They spent their time in fear…
    We began our decent,
    Our entry plan became clear.

    A new age born,
    Old traditions torn…
    No longer bound by archaic notions
    We gave rise to the flag of the freak nation.

    Citizens of the noblest outcasts;
    We are people born from morbid pasts.
    We are the children of the night
    Hypnotized by the flashing lights.

    Freed from secrets of hidden truths,
    With broken dreams to pursue…
    We are slackers, hackers and hip hoppers.
    We can be metal freaks who bow down to blood suckers.

    A drug induced prophecy,
    Once the sadness in humanity…
    I introduce to you the newest sensation
    Pledge your allegiance to our FREAK NATION!!!

    © DH

  89. The Rooftops of Havana

    Lying on the rooftops, at the stars I’m gazing
    Listening to the trumpets and the violins playing
    Oh, timeless Havana, you are amazing
    A wondrous place that’s well worth staying
    By day I take a journey through the past
    A place with so much history, I’m in a trance
    And all night long I hear the music blast
    While searching for my chica to salsa dance
    Son, salsa, chachacha, and rumba beat!
    Oh, energetic Havana, you never sleep
    Dancing all night long; feeling the heat
    A musical place where heritage runs deep
    Vedado is like a park filled with green
    Centro Habana is dilapidated and old
    Habana Vieja; there is much to be seen
    All over Havana, history is all told
    On the Malecón the locals sip rum and talk
    All along on a starry, energetic night
    Watching people fish as I go for a walk
    ‘Til the break of dawn, the ocean’s a pretty sight
    You won’t want to leave this city that’s the best
    Havana’s streets; my memories are kept
    In a mindful of energy; it was difficult to rest
    The rooftops of Havana are where I slept

  90. Peacefulness at Mason Bay

    On Rakiura
    Deep in the interior
    Far from civilization
    The nearest town is days away

    In Mason Bay Hut
    I sit warm by the fire
    Sipping my cuppa
    Deer hunters suddenly call in

    We share some laughs
    And we all say together
    Stewart Island is lovely
    Full of beauty, and mystery

    The hunters continue
    I remain
    In solitude, with wet boots
    Setting out into the setting sun

    Barefoot with cold feet
    Journeying through the sand
    Searching for kiwi
    Peacefully, at Mason Bay

    It’s all silence I note
    Strolling along the beach
    A light drizzle falls from the heavens
    The sand dunes I gaze

    Tokoeka emerges
    She looks at me
    I’m in awe

    It’s a defining moment
    An honourary Kiwi
    Spotting the national symbol
    What more can I ask for?

    Toward the hut I walk
    Enamoured, excited, breathless
    Peaceful and content, at Mason Bay
    I have been blessed

  91. A Southland Southerly

    A Southland southerly batters the island
    The skies are grey, snow fills the highland
    In the Antarctic, the southerly forms
    Bringing wind and rain; fiercest of storms
    Across the Screaming Sixties, the southerly moves
    Slamming Macquarie; rain fills the grooves
    “Rain, rain, and more rain” you ramble
    Through blasting wind, penguins scramble
    Into the Furious Fifties, the southerly floats
    Stirring up waves; a terror for boats
    Across the islands, the southerly whips
    Albatrosses fly, yet it’s unsafe for ships
    The Roaring Forties, the southerly shifts
    Onto Stewart Island it suddenly drifts
    Across the Foveaux, the southerly hits land
    Freezing and wet, yet warm and inside you stand
    Southland is slammed by a thunderous rain
    Wind, rain, and snow fill the open plain
    Throughout Southland, everyone is hunkered down
    A Southland southerly has ripped through town

  92. Almost There

    The conscious of change was rudely awakened
    Streaking enlightenment across the horizon
    No longer was a smile forced to bargain
    Or a voice made to hold up the wall
    Everyday brought with it a mundane guest
    Who gathered the future onto the second hand
    But now time is again my subservient friend
    And sways in accordance to an unrelated reality
    The questions have had their last laugh
    As clarity sits at the edge of a dream catcher
    Forgetting all that came before the present
    Only after the dandelions run rampage
    Does the world begin to make sense

  93. Baba (Grandmother)

    You wear her sweaters,
    knit with peasant technique
    quote her quirks in your jokes
    how she speaks of long ago, says close the tv,
    writes cards in rare english letters.

    Her knuckles shine, decrepit and kneading
    skin pulled tight and perfect.

    Her husband died before you were born
    that is excuse enough for you
    to not know how to build a house
    though you sit around the table
    surrounded by the walls of his hands.

    Sometimes you recognize his tools
    while browsing in antique shops.

    The grief of graves is simple
    easily appeased by the flower shop
    since the garden and chicken coop turned to lawn
    but without the cellar, the jars, the brine in your blood,
    you will starve without her.

  94. Poems About My Mother


    root vegetables and cream

    cross-stitched nights of slow-sipped rye
    remembering how she was

    cheap, like borscht


    women’s clothes

    there is an eerie similarity between a butch look
    and a rape victim in men’s jeans

    somehow they fit her best
    if nothing else she’d had four children

    in another time they
    I, wouldn’t have been born

    sometimes childbearing is just that

  95. a poem of life struggling to get out of my mind
    a poem which would change your way of thinking
    your way of being
    – or mine
    a poem, a real one,
    a poem, just that one

    and you could breathe
    and you could seize
    the moment
    seize the moment
    just breathe
    out of your mind
    out of mine

    a poem, a real one,
    a poem of life – just one

  96. The sands of the earth

    My love came back from India
    with a wooden flute
    carved with dancing cobras,
    with hair like Medusa’s,
    and a song
    like crickets in the eve.

    Each day goes by so fast,
    I turn around it’s past,
    he begged. Come with me,
    to where love laps up
    on the shore of the Ganges,
    billowing as our breath, in
    and out.

    Revelations, he promised
    will come to us from above,
    not like book of the bible,
    but like George Harrison
    learning the Sitar
    with Ravi Shankar,
    like music
    comes to a certain kind of child
    and a certain heart
    craves the dirt path.

    It’s tempting, he sang,
    A lifetime is so short.
    He said my skin was soft
    as petals, but I’m no flower child.
    And though he scurries
    through the sands of continents,
    he will never be a Beatle.

    1. drapetomania (a pantoum)

      drapetomania :

      a mental illness causing black slaves to flee captivity, identified in 1851. The term derives from the Greek δραπετης (drapetes, “a runaway [slave]”) + μανια (mania, “madness, frenzy”). Today drapetomania is considered an example of pseudoscience.

      oppositional defiant disorder exists
      negativity, defiance, disobedience, hostility toward authority
      going beyond the bounds of normal, that is
      how do you typically discipline your child?

      negativity, defiance, disobedience, hostility toward authority
      stressful changes disrupt a child’s sense of consistency
      how do you typically discipline your child?
      hard work often pays off with improved behavior and relationships

      stressful changes disrupt a child’s sense of consistency
      remain calm and unemotional in the face of opposition
      hard work often pays off with improved behavior and relationships
      may be a precursor to conduct disorder and severe delinquency

      remain calm and unemotional in the face of opposition
      learning these skills will require consistent practice and patience
      may be a precursor to conduct disorder and severe delinquency
      positive approaches increase compliant behaviors

      learning these skills will require consistent practice and patience
      going beyond the bounds of normal, that is
      positive approaches increase compliant behaviors
      oppositional defiant disorder exists

      -Excepting the first and last, all lines in the body of the poem taken from the Health Information branch of the Mayo Clinic website on October 3, 2010.

  97. Pace, Slower than:

    We thought, how casual of us, to
    never return to the same place twice
    as the same people.
    But oh, how we were never changing for doing so.

    Desperately and with grace, we sought full sentences to the night
    and sweet dreams.
    The lot of us seemed never to stay too long or leave too quickly,
    but surely, never looking back and never forward never took us anywhere we hadn’t known.

    Oh and in respect to the process,
    and more
    than once,
    you stared at me and then you never stopped.
    You stared right through me at the lady with the stroller,
    and then you stared on to the kids with the rolly shoes,
    and I could’ve stared at you staring until whichever direction the sun next went.

    Certainly being this way is fun.
    And maybe next time you’re nothing at all,
    i’ll be everything at once,
    like you are when I can’t be.

  98. Untitled

    We were killing flies, with spatulas, with holes
    we were tedious and stained with workday sweat
    thinking if we were out cold
    if our sticky lips were catching words we meant to say

    Or, the air was heavy but we learned to bear
    we learned to forget how time is fast and days are slow and we painted each others faces to tell them how we see ourselves

    Cause when it gets cold the people won’t amble
    they won’t drain their dishwater
    Or we’ll stick our tongues to poles to tether our boredom
    thinking the ice could freeze out autumn.

    Or, we were making our beds, like kids, like things were still simple.

  99. When cold, You are:

    He took a step and the furious wind took two more for him
    This street was forever
    It is the same street he always takes

    The daylight is short but the street is quite long
    He knew the furious wind would make two more
    Winter is forever

    The wind is strong and the daylight is short
    It is the same street he always takes,
    but the night is long, and
    two more steps is four more closer than before

    Home is forever
    He is home and the wind is never

  100. Love Poem #3

    “Hey, Bob.”
    One light spec passes another.
    One light spec ignores the others.
    A shared look.
    “Hey, George.”
    “Georgie, waaazzuup?”
    George isn’t looking. He has seen his true love.
    She is a shade of purple.
    Sound fades.
    If he knew what a force field was,
    He would say
    That is what is around me to-day.
    I can’t be touched, is what he would say.
    And you know what?
    He’s right. Light specs can’t touch other light specs.
    But lamp shades…
    “Yo, George!”
    “Dude. What’s his problem.”
    “What’s he’s looking at?”
    She’s beautiful.
    As he drifts, this is what he thinks.
    That beauty is the only thing
    And she is beautiful
    She is the only.
    Bob elbows Harry.
    “Cha, dude.”
    “Yeah. What a weiner.”
    They float off.
    George stays a while longer.

  101. In the end, the only things that ever really mattered were the love peoms.
    “Shit, I gotta take a piss.”
    The damned howled from their pit in hell. Hitler grumbled in German.
    “Yeah, good luck with that.”
    “You teasing me?”
    The sky turned black.
    It coughed smoke.
    “You say something?”
    The wild and crazy moaned.
    “Going crazy? I didn’t say a thing.”
    Eyes narrowed. I know, I know.
    “Sure you didn’t.”
    Hey buddy?
    “Hey buddy?”
    Hitler stomped his foot. The world was ending, and they
    They were ignorant.
    They were foolish
    Were the wise.
    “I love you.”
    See it spinning?
    One moment here?
    Next moment–
    “Yeah, I love you too.”

  102. Celestial

    I like the full moon.

    The silvery light mimics the sun’s ways and frolics with the stars.

    Dancing with the midnight rainbow’s quartet of supernovas.

    Awaken from the slumber O wise one.

    And explain to me the meaning of exisitence,

    the meaning of absolutely nothing.


  103. My love is always there, even when I’m not
    You quit me some time ago, but you ain’t had my best shot
    Wishful thinking gets me through my days, Trying to show I’m different,
    I’ve changed my ways,
    You’ve moved on and made your own path, Even when I’m alone, I can still feel your laugh, All those good times, I guess they had to come to past, I’m old enough to know this, but dumb enough to try and make them last

  104. I can’t quite get my brain to work.
    Ic ould describe it as being in a fog,
    asleep at the wheel,
    the lights being on when nobody is home
    Or I could keep staring in to my soup thinking dead opaque thoughts that disappear once they get past my eyes.
    I haven’t slept in four days.
    I haven’t needed to.
    Sleep is a crutch for the weak.
    A time to hide from the demons that come out at night.I face them,I let my past gnaw on my back. My guilt clings to my legs like a child making it impossible to run.
    Running would be pointless anyway.
    You see My Regret perches on my shoulders covering my eyes.
    Running in to the unknown would awaken My Foolishness
    that lies in my heart. In the left atria to be exact.
    My Pettiness lives in the right.
    My Desire is in the left ventricle,
    the right seems to be unoccupied.
    A hollow spot in a body consuming itself.

  105. Your name doesn’t matter.
    Your face doesn’t matter.
    This is What Matters

    Your body doesn’t matter.
    Your words don’t matter.

    It’s how you use your name that matters.
    It’s how you hold your face that matters.
    It’s how you present your body that matters.
    It’s what you portray with those words that matter.

  106. I Sit

    Here I sit,

    While you lay there

    engrossed in your pain

    the medicine shooting

    through every single vein

    Your heart is barely beating

    And your soul slowly fades

    And I sit there and think

    back to that one good day

    Your smile was wide

    Your eyes sparkled bright

    We laughed and we talked

    all through the daylight

    You meant the world to me

    You were my shining star

    With you everything was balanced

    Until you went afar

    Now you can’t utter a sound

    And I just want to hear your voice

    Dear God

    We at least deserve this choice

    The numbers start dropping

    My tears start to stream

    Oh shit

    Why can’t this be a dream

    My hand slips deeply into yours

    And I sit there

    And I dream

    Of never letting go

    You were my father

    You were my friend

    And as the numbers hit zero

    I know

    This is the end

    “For my father : Calvin Dwane Piper”

  107. Before Sunset

    I am strong. I know this.
    I feel it in the roots of my soul,
    And the bark of my bones.
    I am not shaken.
    The sun rises to see me tall and beautiful,
    Surveying the world, caring and intense.
    I travel further and further from home,
    And still feel that I am strong.

    But the phosphorescent night reveals
    I am cold and emaciated.
    My marrow is eaten away,
    The bark hollow, a show.
    My branches shelter others
    But the root is left bare and bone-dry.

    I am alone. I know this.
    I rejoice in it, covet it, let it feed this blues so desperate to get out.
    And I patch myself up,
    Make myself Well,
    Make myself laugh and sing and dance
    But it is not enough.

    I am strong, but it hurts.
    It bleeds me dry.
    Only in your arms and I whole,
    Am I so safe I need not be so strong.
    But they are not around me now
    And may never be again,
    And how shall I face this world all alone?

    1. To the life that I have seen
      Who am I to ever intervene
      In the obscure vision
      I fall through the cracks of prison
      Arms outstretched
      Far fetched
      Grasping heirs of airs
      Then perhaps another prayer
      Then maybe God will care
      About what I need
      To succeed
      In one man’s dream
      Only I can hear me scream
      But you don’t know of the sand
      That feeds mouth to hand


    I watched the stars
    In their place in heaven.
    I tried to guess their age.
    They didn’t notice me,
    As I stood
    My head nearly six feet above this Earth,
    And raised my eyes
    In praise
    Of their eternal twinkling.

    BELLMORE, NY 11710

  109. Perspective on a River
    If it seems some days you’re going under
    Three times or more, and then you wonder
    Just how you’ll ever stay afloat
    You haven’t a raft, much less a boat
    But though the river’s speed’s deterrent
    Perhaps your goal lies with the current
    And that driftwood that you thought debris
    Could buoy up and set you free
    And though it may seem outrageous
    That life will turn out advantageous
    Just take the time you spend distressing
    And use it just to count a blessing
    Then at the end you there might say
    “I’m happy to have passed this way.”
    And though my clothes are sopping wet
    The strokes I learned I’ll ne’er forget.

    1. Silence

      Deep and perverse silence,
      Late in the night,
      Up in the sky,
      Among the stars…

      In the sea,
      In people,
      In books,
      In the cupboards,
      In everything around…

      What is she hiding?
      or maybe she wants to say something…
      You burn my heart,
      You dry my soul,
      You disintegrate me…
      Do you hear me…?
      I am talking to you, Silence!

  110. Nobody Says as Much as They Should

    Nobody says as much as they should
    The perfect
    The pleasant
    The wholesome
    And good.
    But have much to say when the subject is grim
    The dismal
    The vulgar
    The degrading
    And dim
    And the ones that we love don’t hear it enough
    “I’m grateful.”
    “You did it”
    “I’ll miss you.”
    “You’re loved.”
    But instead they must live on words such as these
    “Why did you?”
    “How could you?”
    “How stupid”
    “Just leave.”

  111. What is a cloud
    If not droplets of water
    Brought all together
    And bound to each other?

    Drawn close by the cold
    And the height in the air
    Alone just invisible
    But together so fair.

  112. The Photograph

    There is a photo beneath the pages
    In-between the lines of
    The tale—“Forever”.
    “Forever” was the promise
    of youthful years
    when right and wrong was vanished
    By the endless pain of fate.

    Crumbling between the pages—
    From year to year, from heart to heart
    It stays within.
    Safe-keeping of a time,
    When time was not in motion—words were not spoken
    Of our passion that was held inside,
    Our passion, in our “Forever” time.

    Down the rows with many tales—
    Tales of strife, sadness, and pain,
    Tucked behind the secret sin of lies, lies
    the secret within—
    For time only changes the seasons
    Not what’s underneath the surface,
    Or through past lenses.

    Oh! but down the middle
    From passing time,
    a line breaks my heart’s desire and fate—
    Fate has captured the moment:
    Our bodies “Forever”
    Isolated into separate lives
    Into a love that is unknown.

  113. Misunderstood

    Among the branches she hid herself away, and
    from the leaves you could hear her cries, but
    no one could read what she was writing in the bark, for
    only she could tell you what was buried beneath the trunk. Although
    her soul was twined between the roots,
    she sat in complete content.

  114. I take a deep breath and listen
    to the old bray of my heart.
    I am. I am. I am.
    I feel my body, my mind, weighted down
    – all is heavy –
    but my blood, my inner fire, my passion,
    the little unburdened kid in me,
    patiently wait to burst free.
    Some of us die never having burst.
    Will I?
    Time has yet to tell.
    I have to let myself go.
    All men are sculptors,
    constantly chipping away the
    unwanted parts of their lives,
    trying to create their idea of a masterpiece.
    Alexandros of Antioch took a block
    of marble and chiseled away from it
    everything that was
    not his masterpiece,.
    If you will chisel away one fault
    from your character every day, you may discover –
    a) that you’re actually a statue of Mother Theresa.
    b) that you’re still just a block of marble.
    c) that there are pigeon droppings on your shoes.
    d) that you, too, are a hidden masterpiece.
    I want to see the beauty
    in what the weather can do to me.
    What, if i’m allowed to just BE,
    I will become.
    Change is my best friend.
    There is nothing noble about being superior
    to some other person.
    The true nobility is in being superior
    to your previous self.
    The bright shining that is who I am,
    an individual,
    only reflects back to myself,
    my own light blinding me.
    I can’t see the world and they
    can’t see me.
    It’s like, at the end,
    there’s this surprise quiz: am I proud of me?
    I gave my life to become
    the person I am right now!
    Was it worth what I paid?

  115. Ivy

    feel like ivy wrapped around a tree but my tree just burnt down
    now nothing there to hold me up
    I’m trying
    but I can’t do it on my own and I fall to the floor
    reduced to the floor
    slithering along like a snake
    back to being scum
    like in the beginning
    just waiting for someone to walk by and not see me down here and trample me
    anxious for it
    because I lost my tree
    and on my own I’m stuck with the floor
    it doesn’t rain down here so I can’t grow and move on
    all the other trees with their ivy catch all the drops and grow together
    leaving me to the floor with myself
    all to me
    none to share
    stuck with myself
    jealous of their growing
    envious with rage
    and it reminds me of memories
    that tree that I had
    that grew with me in the rain and sun
    that held me up and supported me
    that kept me going in the right direction
    instead of burning away and leaving me
    so many directions to go now
    all but up
    so instead of trying to find a new direction I’ll just wait
    wait to rot
    to leave this pain and this sorrow behind me
    and let those other trees with their ivy grow together
    without me
    I’ll just be here
    on the floor
    with myself
    no one else

  116. In Memory of 1,523

    Metal squeals of displeasure,
    lights flicker with anguish,
    water splashes in anger,
    screams echo at heaven in fear.
    God watches as man’s folly
    undoes him once more.

    Defeaning cries are shouted,
    prayers are called forth to the stars,
    pleas are made to anyone listening,

    All walks of life are beggars now,
    the rich, the better off,
    poor and the street dwellers, all,
    for lack of a better term and trust me I looked,
    they all reside in the same boat,
    the frigid north Atlantic.

    So many hours gone by,
    its deathly silent and frightening.
    Empty stares at the moon,
    calls for help frozen in place,
    preserved in ice forever.

    705 of 2228 lived.
    1523 died.
    Oh God why? Why?
    He looks on mournfully and answers,
    “It wasn’t me child. It was they,
    they who thought they were me.”

    The loved ones, the strangers,
    the audience and myself.
    I cry for life dearly
    and I would always cry
    if only I had tears enough.
    They deserve all my tears and more,
    it wasn’t there fault
    one stupid man said it was an unsinkable ship

  117. Let me stay after school?

    Can’t go home

    Facing them is too hard

    They want me to be a hero

    A savior

    But I can’t

    ‘Cause I’m not

    Just the older sister

    Not a fireman

    Not a superhero

    Certainly not a messiah

    Just a sibling

    Taking punches from a raging father

    They’re just so small




    Innocent children.

    And they’re happy

    That’s good enough for me

    Only they’re happiness

    Besides, my bruises heal quickly

    For them

  118. “Fly Away Birdie”

    Canary yellow

    Exotic parrot green

    Tinges of toucan beak orange

    Purple plumage peppered with mossy shades

    And a slight peacock blue that no amount of light diminishes

    These beautiful colors of my fathers love for me

    Which I completely deserved

    The lies fly forth from my mouth

    Caged no longer by my now beaten conscience

    ‘Just a softball accident’

    Is warbled repeatedly to the flock

    Gathered to gawk at my clumsiness

    Mottled across my face in gorgeous hues

    My daddy loves me

    They will never know any different

  119. Titel: Big Scary Monster

    AHHHHHH HA ha ha ha HAAAAaaaaa!!!

    At last!

    I show my TRUE FORM!!!

    What’s that you pestilent beast??!

    You do not believe that my true form is a Giant Praying Mantus with laser beam eyes?


    How could you have known that my true form is a puppy!

  120. Someday Somewhere (the Song of International Peace)

    The image of a thousand beating wings
    Flags of bright colors, from every nation
    Take flight
    beneath the strong bellowing winds

    To the East…
    another notion
    of calm simplicity
    of simply knowing

    The wrath which needed not exist
    Has came and passed
    Each leveled house
    a testament to its stupidity

    Broken arrows
    are washed by the rain
    The stone and earth reclaiming all
    that was lost

    As horns blare
    bright and high
    Soaring above the trees
    A tribute to valour, to grace, to glory,

    to peace.

  121. Title: Karma Wash

    All of the thousands of silent knives

    which I’ve shot from my spirit

    out through my eyes

    Aspersions, judgments,

    like flickering fire

    Rain down now back upon my soul

    the thousands of tiny eggshell pieces

    fragments of my broken castle walls….

    Coming to a halt,

    the moment breathes itself

    in….and out

    And comes to ask forgiveness

    For crimes past and not

    yet commited

  122. scarecrow

    dark scavengers
    feasting on my flesh

    my hands are torn and bleeding
    having nothing left to offer up
    they are weary
    no long able to mend your broken wings
    they fall to my side

    my ears are unable to hear
    deaf to the noise of the world
    they cannot hear
    my cries
    or yours

    my shoulders fall
    the talons claw
    ripping me to shreads
    they are stained with blood

    my heart is bare
    my chest now an empty hole
    the solitude has drained me
    left me dying

    they feed
    fattening their bellies with what was once whole
    they flee
    unconcerned with my plight
    i’m left alone
    they move on
    different times
    different victims
    same story

  123. fragmented snippets

    a thought
    a dream
    a wish
    a life
    a story
    a memory
    they’re not mine
    they never belonged to me
    but I steal them
    all of them
    all for me
    wrapped myself in them
    i indulge
    i devour
    i caress
    i destroy
    if you wanted them
    if they were secret
    private things
    you should not have misplaced them
    take better care of these things
    these things you cherished
    they have been stolen
    grand larceny
    they are mine now
    i will guard my treasure
    i will not treat them so foolishly
    lock them up tight
    and always

  124. hope despite darkness

    the darkness has always been with me
    i don’t remember a time in which they didn’t exist
    i could gain momentary control
    ignore the darkness for a small amount of time
    but they were always there
    lurking in the shadows
    waiting for a lapse in concentration
    to gain the power back for themselves
    drowning me
    pulling be back to the dark
    swallowing me down to consume me entirely

    the helplessness the hopelessness
    the darkness took me for a ride
    an angry storm
    a roller coaster flying off the tracks
    i gained the occasional glimpse of life
    tasted a tidbit of reality
    but it was only the calm before the storm
    i waited with crossed fingers
    but i would only crash and burn
    the darkness would once again consume me

    i have hit rock bottom
    i have fallen in a bottomless pit
    death is inevitable
    the only means of escape
    but then i get a peek
    there is light
    a hand reaching out to pull me up and out
    maybe life can be normal
    there is hope and possibility
    i want out
    i want a chance to live

    i fight the darkness
    i refuse to be defeated
    the war can be won
    i can be victorious
    it is a constant struggle
    but i can fight and i can win
    i will be optimistic
    i will admit and accept help
    the effort is worth it
    i cross my heart and hope to live

  125. The Problem With Angels

    This halo is a tunicate; this mind, my tongue, is nothing more then a needle.
    So began the process of a metaphorical suicide.
    Let this paper be my wrists as this lead becomes my blood.
    I only pray that my veins may run dry before the end of this.

    To speak the word happiness is to take the lords name in vein, as is fear to speak of the devil.
    I fear the battle for my soul is already lost.
    It would seem my path to belong in, and become, eternal fire.
    I cannot call this a life as I am already damned.
    Yet I believe this my mountain to be scaled.
    By grace my sins be lifted through an explanation of my descent.
    There was no revocation of wings as was with the others, instead there was a struggle to turn dust into fire.
    My halo was placed…. no, shackled….
    Heavy, though it is, so I must turn to face the ground.
    So as wings grew lead they also led, not followed, and I found myself amongst thieves.

    Let this be your warning: if you seek the knowledge of the gods you will find the weight of the world upon your back.
    Your bones will not break, your muscles will tense but never strain.
    Comfort becomes a word lacking relevance to self.
    Do not forget: life is suffering.
    Do you truly seek eternal life?
    This story with a chameleon protagonist- nameless, faceless, mysterious, but all to familiar- has become this cinematic effort which has just found its conflict.

    They say the scrolls, the broken seals, will bring us salvation.
    They say faith will bring victory.
    Whoever they are, they pray blind to the masochistic end.
    God is not a divine beauty. I pity God.
    A trick is only magic when kept secret; once understood it becomes a lie.
    The Angels may be beautiful, yet you are vein.
    They may be wise, yet wings weigh heavy upon backs; halos of gold drag the head into a submissive prayer.
    Soldiers of the lord, now I understand: the swords of flame are pressed between your lips.
    Now I know why you sing.
    Now we know why you cry out his name.

    “Love and pain are far more interesting then death itself.”
    And so, as the koan revolved through my mind, in my second initial heartbeat, nirvana, the “vast emptiness of nothing holy,” the desolate chains of immortality, died.
    For it is only through bereavement that we may be revived; once more it is only through mortality that we may exist.
    You see ultimately, through the understanding of the celestial order, through the constant throb of hearts breaking, we find that life, suffering, is far greater an obscurity and misunderstood hero then we previously believed it to be.
    Obsession and affection are the essence of suffering.
    Suffering is the cornerstone of art.
    Art is the only thing we have left, as humanity, as sentient beings to live for.
    And so I begin again from genesis, the life I conceded all those years ago.

    And through it all
    is nothing
    is nothing
    is nothing

  126. Spotting A Thieve

    Parasitic masochist and egotistical coward,
    I see right through you, if not now later.
    I see your flaws and, frankly, I do not resign myself to them.
    You are far too immense of a burden
    on my once lively soul
    and I will not shoulder you
    as you offer less then the anguish is valued.
    We stand juxtaposed, as you need my commendation
    yet are too afraid to escape it.
    You, however, your praise means nothing to me.
    You are not special in my eyes, you are not a requisite
    to my life and I will not stand by
    while you drag me through dirt
    and laugh with your attendants.
    It is not that I hate you
    it is that I hate next to everything about you.
    To be wholly sincere,
    the only reason I have stood around, again,
    this prolonged, again,
    without perusing the same plot to expose your defects, again,
    is to give you yet another chance
    to discontinue them yourself.
    Yet you are stubborn as an ass
    (you refuse to heed to any voice other then your own
    as I have done for you,
    again, and again)
    asses often aim to expose an others asinine
    yet recoil from their own.
    Lamentable, I will admit,
    yet there is nothing I can do about this
    except sever our relations, once more.

  127. A Von Newman Dehumanization

    Curse my name,
    lynch and drag me through
    the filth,
    ignore my emotions,
    for when the sun sets
    and rises you will remember
    of the turmoil
    and catastrophe
    you have wrought from the iron that pulses
    through my veins.

    You crack open my chest
    without regards
    to the time
    convalescents requires
    since you brought your blade to my heart.

    Fragments of ventricular organs become antiques
    as you tear them away
    and feed upon the severed remains,
    yet you cower in terror at the sight of gears
    replacing aortic valves.

    You made me this
    machine, my love:
    steam powered and grinding.

    If this is not what you ask then listen
    to the screams fall from my alloy tongue
    as anvils and cry
    out for the piece
    of humanity I have left.

    I guess Von Newman would be proud
    of this merciless conversion from blood to oil.

  128. I Am

    I am artist
    I am writer, inhaler of earth’s toxins
    I am creator yet barely created
    I am a mixture of many cultures
    Son of two mothers
    I am thinker helper of mankind destroyer of lies
    I am the center of my own element
    I am mind-expanding reality
    Trying to escape illusion

    I am duality
    I am alien
    I am black
    I am white, yet
    I am neither
    I am manchild in a Promised Land
    I am my own religion
    While following none
    I am love
    I am anger
    I am hate

    I am the nucleus huddled small as protons crash into neutrons around my skull
    I am naked in the grass
    The river you fear to pass
    I am divinity
    I am the sun breaking through the clouds over Mt. Sinai
    I am the film in your camera
    And the camera in your hand
    I am your greatest fear
    I am knowledge
    I am desire I am love
    I am alone yet surrounded by multitudes
    I am the man you step over begging in the street
    The earth you walk on beneath callused feet
    I am the glass of water beside your bed
    The brick in your hand that stained our streets red
    I am the blood of slaves
    I am the blood of slave’s masters
    I am marked for life external
    I am ever changing internal
    I am Nat Turners revolt
    I am Rosa Park’s front seat
    I am the colored boy my girlfriend’s folks hoped they’d never meet

    I am strength
    I am passion
    I am listener
    I am silence and screams in your ear
    I am the history of my past
    You never wanted me to hear
    I am landscapes of emotion
    I am your tears of devotion
    I am the needle in your vein
    I am pleasure
    As your pain.


    In dreams
    It seems
    I jumped ship
    To fight crashing waves
    Swam with transatlantic
    For days
    Swimming for freedom
    A brighter day

    But me?
    I am lucky
    Because when I awoke
    Except for the sweat upon my head
    The dream was broke
    I was dry lying
    In my bed

    But sometimes at night
    I still taste the salt
    And think about
    The dead
    Still swimming for a freedom
    Never manifested.

  130. I need a love. I need a love so deep that the very essence of my being is one with this love. I want the breeze, I need a breeze in the trees where our summer days are spent lazily lounging among the omnipresent, static hum of crickets hidden amongst long, dry strands of grass. Love that seeps through soft surfaces, such as my lover’s skin. Soft surfaces like wind when it bends so gently not a hair is disturbed by its transparent touch. Help me open my heart. I want to dream of myself in the future, and find myself within the present. Just a glimpse of my life from beyond my own strive is enough to allow my heart’s beat. Help me dream furthermore to a place we’ll adore and where sea life is easily seen. Where the dark, choppy waters to which no one will go, are still kept by their secrets. I mean, think of life without love, think of love without life. It’d be impossible for beings to be. When dirty dishes aren’t cleaned and their surface is green with procrastination. Our lives can’t be spent without keeping kempt the dark things that decay with the stagnant.
    In need of the love that I carry above, the ground when there’s nowhere to stand. With another one’s light we can brighten the night, our love strung across lands in strands.
    Where are you my love?

    …I would love to hear any feedback you have, let me know what you think at, thanks…

  131. When the dark room sighs, and you feel your demise
    Be reminded of your ties with the resting

    When the curtains wave, and the dogs misbehave
    Be reminded of the slave who’s protesting

    Blue ripples in your space made by bodies draped in lace
    Look into your precious face for your wonders

    As the pattern moves to rhythm, personify your livin’
    The light divides through prisms, as it comforts

    Just a shadow on the wall, then existence starts to crawl
    You don’t make sense at all, that’s the problem

    Think too much of this, not too much of that
    Ignore the smiling cat; his malice is like all them

    The smoke, it veils the naked woman

    Hope could fail you but it wouldn’t

    Express the feelings that you shouldn’t, it’s what ‘s true

    When the dark room cries, and your scraped by your demise
    Be reminded you’re alive, and keep living

    While the bed bears hints of love, you can feel yourself above
    As push becomes a shove just keep giving

    Like liquid upside down, almost splattered on the ground
    Take off your golden crown; it’s just for show

    Keep asking all those questions. Keep learning all those lessons
    You will stumble on confessions you din’t know

    Fill the space with conscious thought, its like you knew it, but forgot
    They all will feel it on the spot, its unavoidable

    Like a room that’s filled with smoke, just take another toke
    I will veil you with my cloak made of thought

  132. Hell awaits those who create themselves to be what they are not

    The folly of self helps one to feel, while no truth is ever revealed

    Harrowed by goods oft acquired with hoods, rather, suites if you’re one of the worst

    Help the ones who did try, but despise those who died knowing full the dark deeds that they’ve done

    No two things are to blame, but the prospect of shame and a hopelessly doubtful decree

    While, the water doth flow, so the flower will grow, not to bloom but to die in disease

    To the common eye: sad. All the pain that is had spans the land, which has stolen the show


    The bureaucrat’s laugh cracks the whip on the back of the men who have no eyes to know

  133. Apology
    Paul Fahnestock

    I wish we could reverse all our mistakes,
    All that you need is all that we take.
    Your such a precious gem, our Mother our Home,
    Deep in my soul I can feel you, your tears and your moan.
    I feel so helpless sometimes, like watching innocent animals die,
    It hurts so bad I want to scream out and cry.
    Dear Mother Earth, please don’t die.
    I hope you know you are loved by your son, not a sliver of a lie.
    And I want you to know that I’m not the only one.
    I love you Mother Earth,
    From, your son.

    Tarry on in militant ferry.
    I see what maybe and free 
    I am careful, in this regime;
    I fear the sign of the time and know not of that which I ought. 
    The piece is grand, and I part of the band. 
    The brass, the strings, the percussion of marching free under orders greater than me. 
    Am I a leader or led?
    Ambious son to which he is wed rings cries and freedom bled. 
    I cry, I hate: 
    this unknown fate.

  135. I haven’t seen the nightmares in your dreams. I suffer in a different kind a silence, One free from external violence. But the bloodshed in my head, though quiet, screams preventing my means. I mean to exterminate that which you emulate and ride free until the face of god I see. I see hope someday with love on it’s way, away with hate, let us disseminate into that  with whom we choose to mate. I hate this loneliness inside my head. I want instead to find happiness, forgetfulness. Forgive me, I am not free, and knot free I am not. So let me tumble as this planet still rumbles and tomorrow shall soon be without sorrow. Or so I hope, as you sleep whilst I cling to the last of my mental rope.
    To you, all in that I find meaning, sleep well in peaceful dreaming. 

    I love you.

  136. The Drummer
    I never finished telling you how vibrant you are,
    Or, what’s your magic, what’s your spell,
    And, who made you a star

    What ever mysteries cloud your mind,
    Are there for me to see,
    Because everything you do and say,
    Becomes a part of me

    How dare I play your verbal games
    How bold of me to try
    I think I must be going mad
    With a different kind of high

    No one can put you in your place
    Cause you are everywhere,
    A Different Drummer, deep inside
    A different man is there.

    (for Buddy Rich)

  137. Too soon was I too old to hid upon my mother’s busom,
    Too soon was I too old to have the fair-faced doll
    I had dreamed of, when the tree was trimmed
    and ground was white
    And found I on that morning,
    Skates, to fill no gap

  138. Sweet Magnolia
    In air as thick and sweet as molasses
    I wait for you
    Under the shade tree’s canopies
    Where the sun’s rays are forbidden
    I wait for you
    A family of swans wade in the water
    As I lay still on the bank of the river
    I wait for you
    The repetitious caw of mocking birds
    Hang in the air
    Nature is on display,
    A show for kings
    My environment is pure perfection
    A light summer breeze could never smell as sweet
    Magnolia is coming near
    With sweet magnolia in the air.

  139. its monday night
    people are too drunk to drive
    as i stand outside
    and smoke
    a palm tree falls
    i go back in
    rearrange shoes
    make my way to the kitchen
    open the champagne
    and take two big gulps

  140. I spent Alll of my days thinking Of these Beautiful and MEanigfUl Words
    BUT most of thime my meaningful words meant NOthinggg to you
    So why then should I KEEP them around
    When used by you Would put me Do
    See my MeaningLEsS Words are VEry full TO MEEE
    They’re my way of EXprEsSing ReAlItY..
    So whether you Listennnnn
    Or Whether you care
    My meaningfulless words will always BE here
    They keep me …..ME
    ANd you. . .. You

      1. I loved your poem. oddly the type oooooes added meaning to your words. Poems are our but when others read them we must check them first read them from the others point of view.

  141. Lone Wolf

    I lived the high adventure,
    roaming far and wide across the earth’s landscape.
    Hill and dale, meadow and woodland all beckoned me.
    Calm and rushing waters crossed my path,
    but did not contain me.
    I followed paths first tread by others,
    yet found time to blaze my own.
    Bright sun-lit days and starry nights
    greeted me and bid me welcome time and time again.
    Fog, snow, and rain, thunder and lightning
    added variety and spice to my travels.
    I cavorted with the pack
    and found solace with those of my kind.
    I witnessed the miracle of birth,
    and experienced the sadness of death.
    I knew joy and celebration, sorrow and tribulation.
    I sought the prize, and lost it — only to regain it yet again.
    I passed from youth to elder,
    all in the twinkling of an eye.
    I left my mark, limited as it was, upon the land.
    I passed a legacy on to those who follow after me.
    Now grown old, I am content to face
    the High Adventure which awaits me.

    © 2008 Ralph Lowell Coleman, Jr.

  142. Progeny

    Holy Writ commands the man
    To “be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth.”
    Taking the Scriptures to heart,
    I fathered eight children — four sons and four daughters.
    My in-law, beaming at the newest arrival,
    Passed this sagely advice on to me:
    “The commandment is to be fruitful and multiply and
    replenish the earth.
    Just don’t try to do it all yourself!”

    (c) 2005 Ralph Lowell Coleman, Jr.

  143. title
    I Knew Strangers

    Plans were made
    with friends,
    and the new kind of unknown ones.
    Ex-strangers, unexistant,
    until extented hands
    shook in aquiantance.

    These newly known
    know no need,
    to the knewly known
    that in past did meet.
    Ones like me, and themselves!

    We are all new.
    Me to you in every ending moment.
    The absolute you
    and I,
    are new in every sense,
    and each sensations.

    So I dont have expectations,
    I just have friends.

    1. every time by Denise morales

      how do you hold on to someone that you love

      so dear

      Was it your heart or was it mine

      that fall to quick

      or was it over time

      that i notice who are

      the person that was inside

      No scripts, no materials things

      just something that fall unwritten in time

      i know i was crazy at times,

      but I didn’t know how to express my feelings

      to you every time.

      I wanted to know, but i never

      wanted ruin a moment that

      i have with you

      1. LIFE by Denise morales

        WHAT IS IT?


        WHAT IS IT?

    2. title: unclear by denise morales

      IM to caught up

      IM To messed up

      Im fed up

      I need to find my way through

      the smoky air

      I feel like im

      in a hour glass

      Time is running out

      and i feel to lost minded

      nothing is making sense

      i feel to tense

      my air is running low

      how can i breathe with no


      my everlasting life is running


      i feel like I need a drink

      of fountain of youth to

      stay alive

      How do i make it

      through if everything is so


  144. title
    Well, Done.

    Are you safe yet,
    Are you fulfilled,
    are you finished,
    Does the eulogy
    the tipping begin,
    to tell who wins,
    the battle waged by winds,
    breaths truths and threats,
    points pressed from when
    the future wasnt present,
    before promise would bend,
    when now was forever,
    as now, forever
    was then,
    and done was
    after start had set in.

  145. title
    Cinderella’s Shots

    back at the counter top,
    holding a bar back,
    bartering money by the spirit drop.

    Banter bewilders,
    with sound bound
    by what’s surrounding
    Fading judgement the only filter,
    of the noise
    that’s devouring.

    Introductions and impressions,
    depend on lips interpretation,
    as abstract audio images
    are open for interpretation.

    I cant hear your narrative,
    or imagine your novella,
    so grasp the glass
    slipper words,
    and seek Cinderella.

    I borrow cheap silence,
    taking time to pay
    my debts, my attention,
    to the chaos in the way.

    I know it seems
    but it seems safe to say,
    Cinderella calls the shots,
    on nights like today.

  146. (I ran)

    It was dark outside
    I could feel the humid air hitting my skin as I ran
    My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my head
    My sight was blurry due to the sweat in my eyes
    My glasses were slipping my face
    I was running away from every thing, every fear every accomplishment, every failure, every one and everything I ever knew
    I was running away from it all
    My breath was growing heavier
    My body was becoming weaker
    I could feel the sweat pouring down my body
    The further I got the worse I felt
    I could not run fast enough
    Everything consumed me

  147. Right Hand Zen.

    By Paul Fahnestock’s Right Hand…

    Hello self, this is your right hand writing for you here, free as a bird, no connection at all, i am free standing thinking and doing separate from YOU. Sometimes I like to rest before I work, sometimes I like to let you believe your in control of me, which you are, when im not controlling you. We are one in the same you and i, and yet we are a million light-years apart, we are of the same color, yet we are on opposite sides of the spectrum. we love each other, yet we hate each others guts. We are everything, yet we don’t even exist. This is true freedom.


    Right Hand

  148. That.
    By Paul Fahnestock

    Isn’t it weird, all the pain and all the fear, it’s like everybody cares but nobody wants to hear

    The truth is like a mess, swept under the rug, always in the mind such a dirty drug

    I know there’s hope, the light at the end, I’ve seen it , the vision of the world amend

    The human collective consciousness is ever so young, getting older now, much less high-strung

    Are you strong enough? Are you afraid of the sadness? The only way is to face our madness.

    Stop blaming everyone else, everyone else is you, and myself

    Forgive your brother, forgive your sister, do this and you will forgive yourself

    Wish bad on your enemy, wish bad on yourself

    You cannot have this without that, this is over, let us begin on that

    Every person, you and I, are as capable of the most hateful acts imaginable, as the people who do these things that you wish bad onto.

    Those very same people, are as capable as you and I, to show infinite, kind, and compassionate love.

    Wish good onto those people. Wish love and show compassion. And you will see a mirrored change.



  149. Sleeping, Dreaming

    Sleeping, dreaming
    Hovering above
    Dreaming of love

    He is young and strong
    A dreamer
    Full of dreams
    Full of hope
    And she, a vision, a spirit
    A dream
    Filling his heart
    With herself
    Filling his soul
    With love

    Living, dreaming, living a dream
    Embracing a vision, to live a dream
    To live and love, to have loved and lived
    So strong it breaks hearts, so sweet, the eyes mist

  150. In The Dead of Winter

    In the dead of winter, in the coldest night, I have seen a wondrous thing. When life is gone and the Earth is still, I have seen SOME-THING. In the blackest night, in the depths of death, I have seen a miracle. In burning rock and seething cold, we see LIFE Again.

    In deep December, when all is still and trees are stripped of leaves. When all is lost, I wander out to see just what I will. There at the end of branches dead, a sight makes my heart sing. There at the end of branches dead I find the buds of Spring.

    So God has given Life her Head, and a power that will not stop. Through hell and water, freeze, and drought, we will see Life Again. Yes, She is strong and will not stop, She always finds a way. Stand up my child, wake up and walk, take hold of Life Today.

  151. Thanks so very much for holding this contest!! We live in what I call “Interesting Times”. Still we must remember despite the desperation all around us. We will see life again.

    Best Regards to All,
    Chuck Worthy

  152. Remember the stars of yesteryear?
    Perhaps not so very clear….
    Time marches on and on
    Till one day you’ll find its gone

    We study history of those who are no more –
    History about blood and war.
    Why bother with any of it,
    When in the end all we have is our own pit.

    We strive for mansions, glory, and fame,
    But what we get is all the same.
    You can live in luxury, you can live poor,
    But in the end the reaper knows the score.

    He’ll come for the old, He’ll come for the sick
    He’ll come for those whose clocks ceased to tick.
    He’ll come for the wounded, he’ll come for the well
    He’ll come to send some to Heaven and some to Hell.

    All that will remain for a while is our skin
    After that it will wear thin.
    Then we have just our bones,
    when those are gone we’ll have tombstones.

    When those erode, the world still spins
    It goes on and on and no one wins.
    Time forgets you, time is cruel,
    Time will catch up with every fool.

  153. The Dagger

    The dagger in my chest
    Aching for a need
    Counting from one hundred to zero
    With a figure, breathing upon my face
    No! go away! shielding my face of sweat
    You scare me, with evil lurking by your side
    You take away my strength, as I continue to fight
    Breath as shallow as a rainy mist evening
    I told you to go away, as I fight the darken knight
    Thought provoking images filling my mind
    As my broken body convulses with fright
    Reliving only minds subconscious
    Anger overcomes me, I’m losing the battle
    I am no longer free
    I’m the opposite, of a smiling sight
    Somebody help me, take this evil away
    I can’t handle this dagger of pain
    That steals my hope, like a thief in the night
    Explosion of head bashing
    As the dagger comes out
    Breaking free
    Of the darkness hidden within me

    1. name

      Blazing in the Echoes of my Fire-Mind
      As I siphon Waters from the other World
      Right between the Two-Tone trap called Myself and Me
      Torn divided selves shoot each other Hot
      Once They were I and I was One
      Now they Hunt each other the Ocean and the Sun.

  154. If..

    If I don’t know where it is
    How am I suppose to know when I’ve crossed?

    If there’s no wrong way, how come I’m never right?
    If there’s only darkness, why are we searching for light?

    If we were made to live
    Why don’t we give all we can give?

    If there’s always a way to stop, why do we keep on trucking?
    If there’s nothing more to say, why are we still discussing?

    If there’s no such thing as perfection, then why are we always trying to reach?
    If no one ever learns, then why are we still trying to teach?

    If there’s really no true answer to any question, why do we keep trying to ask?
    If everything comes to an end, why do we keep trying to make it last?

    If we already know the consequences of our actions,why do we still do?
    If we’ve been there and done that, why do we approach without a clue?

  155. it is these nights that make the box seem inviting, better, more fruitful.
    in there at least needs no explanation, and this is the chatter that keeps true company,
    quite oddly.
    sometimes the lock and key just beats the face-painted effort-
    but, stay there long enough
    and you’ll never leave.
    all these ice-skaters bore a deep-sea fisherman
    his vast images of the oxygen, hydrogen, carp and whale infinity all too fresh
    to be swept up by their skimpy clattering.
    not that anyone would dare cut a hole in the ice.
    not that he would offer to.
    too thick during the winter… the rain made it that way,
    and the expanse and the split.
    magic only happens in solitude where the door can be propped open
    by pages thick and musings so viscous
    they become windowpanes.
    it seems the saline solution is to invoke the tryst of solitude and companionship,
    swim in the void for awhile.
    for where else do things happen but in empty spaces?
    until then, give me naught but the box
    lock and key, it and me nudging the waves through the ocean.
    i’ll be empty enough till then.

  156. how is the mirror made?
    from whence comes the opaque statement, vague,
    wont to be false but so convincing?
    and why do i see them everywhere?
    shop windows do it easily- bus windows almost as well.
    also water, adds Narcissus, a forever pupil at the school of hard-knocks
    now marveling thanks and grumbles both upon the muddiest puddle.
    they flutter down from treetops,
    deciduous as youth itself.
    the cracks in the sidewalk show me nothing but my image for its image
    and i wish the tired metaphor wasn’t so crystalline
    so the auctioneer brain could catch a break,
    writhe and melt into the transparency of things that with time comes natural.
    when i look closely, i see that human faces are mirrors
    showing humanity’s own best and worst
    (and my own, of course, with an aftertaste of truth)
    even when all i want is to ride the wave of banter and surface-scratching.
    then i touch my cheeks, and realize
    that even my own face is a mirror
    frighteningly real,
    offset by an ocular mosaic of history and human condition
    (but only if you’ve seen it before.
    if not, it appears as a lollipop-sucking “where’s daddy” come-on.
    such limits come with physicality.)
    when does a mirror lose opacity
    and become glass, modest glass, clear but still reflective?
    with age? with breaking? no doubt a combination, as it is with people.
    no, vanity is not a human trait.
    it comes from within the mirror
    startled by the holiness staring at it squarely.
    a mirror could go blind. a person often does.

  157. ‘He Has Not Answered Yet’

    I’ve lost myself to weeping
    Lost my vocal chords to screaming
    Lost my muscles to this beating
    Of my fists against the ground

    But my efforts they yield nothing
    No results and no forgiveness
    So I kneel before an alter
    And I slowly mouth the words

    Oh my God, please know my sorrow,
    Please be nothing like a father,
    Please do hide me from this world
    And keep me sheltered in your heart

    God, I cannot stand this heaving
    Burning fire in my chest and
    God I cannot stand you leaving
    So please heal my debts and harms.

    I look up and hear the silence,
    Feel my hands, still so defiled.
    Feel my life begin to drain and feel
    My eyes begin to blur.

    It would seem that I am wrong,
    The sky remains still blue and empty,
    But I can’t afford that outcome,
    So I kneel and mouth the words.

  158. Find…

    There’s this lady that runs into
    the wall or maybe she’s
    fell down a flight of stairs
    Better yet she has ran into his fist
    Because that’s how he shows he cares
    She finds it in his hands.

    There’s this guy that constantly battles
    with his sperm donor
    Just to protect his strongest love;
    His mom, but end up shot and sunt above
    He finds it in protection.

    There’s this little girl that
    Resides in the projects
    And is constantly tortured by dirty evil eyes
    How one survives, is a total surprise
    She finds it in attention.

    There’s Majority of Women
    That puts a male before themselves
    Torture, desire, pain, blood, and fear
    All just to keep one thing near
    They find it in anything with a heart beat.

    There’s all of us looking for
    One simple thing
    For it’s More Complex
    L.O.V.E., don’t let it blind
    You from the rest
    Or define your success
    Or humble you
    with the purest of regret
    Never exchange your eyes
    Cause you will never get
    another Kind

    May You All Find The Love
    That Is Worth Your Time

  159. Man?
    Little Boy
    Awaits his
    Next toy

    Looking for that
    Bottle you can
    Someone to bend
    Over backwards
    for you
    Change Your
    Stroke your
    wounded ego
    Be there for your
    Every beckon call

    Please save me
    the tragedy
    of re birthing you

    Let your balls
    Let your hair
    Let your priorities

    Just Put Away
    Childish things
    For I will not
    Take you Outside
    To play
    So you can
    Man Up

    I discard your
    I dismantle your
    I place you back
    On the floor
    Until you become
    A Man.

  160. “Final Goodbyes…”
    by TL Briggs

    She spent a lot of time alone… when she needed he was gone…
    but she kept the heartache hid… just for the sake of the kids…
    they deserved a happy home.
    She’d sit and watch the time go by… and then she’d go to bed and cry…
    on a note from 63’… that he never got to see…
    but she’ll keep until she dies.

    It said “Baby you have always been, the only one for me”…
    and “Somewhere deep inside, I know our love will always be”…
    “I promise you I’ve never, even looked outside your heart”…
    “and even though, this is goodbye”… “I don’t intend to start”…
    “This is….. my final……… goodbye.

    Then one night a man in blue… came by the door at half past two…
    said “I’m sorry maam we tried… but your husband took his life…
    and “He left this for you”.
    She thanked the man and closed the door… and slid against it to the floor…
    and she opened up a note… to read what he had wrote…
    and the pain began to pour.

    It said “Baby you have always been, the only one for me”…
    and “Somewhere deep inside, I know our love will always be”…
    “I promise you I’ve never, even looked outside your heart”…
    “and even though, this is goodbye”… “I don’t intend to start”…
    “This is….. my final……… goodbye.

    written by TL Briggs

  161. Many nights of maligned disparaged
    ecclesiastical-like gatherings

    Drinking up the rocks of our age.
    laughing at faded instants

    That slipped by our minds
    too fast to be humorous.

    Bound to a place, a person, a thing
    when we factually were bound to an act

    Maybe two, or three
    but that is not the question at hand.

    The insipid attitudes slipping through
    sleekly shadowed sensitivities evade us.

    Why do we forget the nature of play?

    I might be foolishly melancholy
    Meandering in a playground of hope

    Call me a cynic
    an existentialist

    I can be both at once or none at all
    and it would not make a damned difference

    Until you were lying motionless
    waiting on someone to come

    and please!


    Hold your Hand.

    But I must find my own ploy
    as you meddle in yours.

    Yes, I am a hypocrite
    in that sense but I know

    That a peaceful soul will lay me down
    before my beating heart that quickens
    when I think of what will be left
    of you
    and I
    and he
    and she
    and us
    when out fantastimagical
    brilliantly schemed Ideas

    Simultaneously implode
    and explode

    extrapolating millions of particles
    out into the stratosphere

    To be gone forever.

  162. In the middle of time

    Between the orchestral sunrise and the moon’s yawning that welcomes the dusk
    we live laugh and love in a grand fixation of what’s above
    some in laughter, some in love
    some in sorrow, and others in lust

    greed shall not dictate the place that i stand
    nor shall the philosophies of mortal man
    dream away the conscious philosophies
    dream away all sensless atrocities
    leave the forgotten realms to embrace childlike wonder
    planning forever
    leaping, ducking, diving
    over, beyond and under

    to whom do we owe this strength
    the burden of living always in tow
    it is me that decides my fate
    and each and every path my feet go

    Honest, superb and true
    My mind returns me to you

  163. Velvet Cake

    Are we like the city lights
    waiting and watching the others go out
    this dusty globe only holds bounds
    that tie us at the center
    of this spiral and circle

    Are we the ones to get our fill?
    take the urns and spill em
    like our empty heads full of nothing
    and our broken grasp of being

    shall we wait on the wall?
    like a phone that gets no calls
    well you’re not calling us
    at the end of the world
    so well just leave a message

    and if all the apocalyptic infants
    with all their laughing fits
    were born at the wrong second
    would ask “whats it like to be”
    we’re dumbfound as the final curtain
    falls to the floor

    this is the beauty of the known and unknown
    like at the end of a movie
    when silence grips you in your seat
    you ask can this really happen to me?

  164. Dr. Seuss Blues Lyrics
    As the sun came round searched for something new
    paint my face green stepped out in the refuse
    rotten egg cases and corrupted cop chases
    lookin for something new just looking for something to do

    found a book such a colorful hook with such a sly wink
    tied to a red balloon who had to much to eat
    in this book was a batty cat who had something to do
    turned kids worlds upside down, wouldnt that bother you?

    a joke it was this mad cat and the things he would do
    zippin around the halls on his flipper-dee-do
    but at least he showed the kids when you mess shit up
    you know what youre supposed to do

    lookin round this place its lost so I’ll un-translate
    people gotta stand on tables and shout to the sky
    whats covering you? whats covering you mr. sky?
    but it seems no one has a clue
    so I just laugh, play and sing my Dr. Seuss Blues

    Wasnt to long till i heard a tree beckon for a watering hole
    two drips and a ‘tarded fish doesnt make an excellent home
    so i picked up the roots and shook the earth
    and the whole goddamn world came crashing down.

    With the ceiling on the ground and one fish, two fish in my mouth
    wanted to hop on pop and bring him around
    but he was deader than shit that lonely dick
    So I just stashed him in a mound

    Oh the thinks we think when there aint no brink
    makes you scratch and howl, makes you scratch and howl
    cant tell apples from tornadoes so no ones coming around
    I just hopped on my bike and left the air
    so Ima leave you like you always do
    and keep on singin my Dr. Seuss Blues
    Im just gonna sing my Dr. Seuss Blues

  165. Just Desserts

    I bit into an apple
    and began to bleed a bit
    sitting in the middle of my living room cockpit
    i watch the static sundown hear the sirens drown
    a soul, this box, this world around
    well theres nothing to it dontcha think?

    I woke up in a fire of sorts
    burning up with my just desserts
    and not going nowhere, nowhere
    I thought it was so easy
    well what do you think
    living in a paper cut, out of my drink
    well theres nothing to it dontcha think?

    Being a scream from the playground dream
    to firing range scene thats where i belong
    before the silence of death with brutal wings
    or eating up the shadows coming out of your sleep
    have you seen your earthly deeds?
    the sex the cream, the rotten trees.
    Have you seen when the sun rises
    and you floating on down the stream?

    The forest is black in my heart attack
    and I’m just a little jungle cat screaming no way,
    no way for me please.
    choking on barbed wire and linen sheets
    caught up like a hanging man pulling at life
    well theres nothing to it dontcha think?

  166. RUFUS

    He just wandered up one day,
    started hanging around.
    He looks kinda goofy.
    He has blue eyes – like mine.
    He snores – like I do.
    He farts – a lot – like me.
    He hates to come inside,
    but today it’s snowing.
    I would rather be in my garden,
    but today it’s snowing.
    We are laying
    cuddled up
    by the wood stove.
    I scratch his ears.
    He wags his tail
    in his sleep
    and snores louder.
    Maybe tomorrow
    the sun will shine
    and we can sit on the porch
    and have a beer.


    I set that purty gol’ trophy up ‘tween the pictures o’ my mama an my daddy.
    Right there on the mantle ‘bove the fireplace.
    My mama usta say,
    “Boy, you sure can make that fiddle sound sweet!
    An my daddy say,
    “That jus’ may be, but you has gotta git yo’ head outta the clouds
    an learn to do somethin’ with yo’ hands!”
    An mama say,
    “Papa, he play dat fiddle with his hands”
    An my daddy say,
    “You know what I mean. He need a backup plan.”
    And back an forth like I weren’t even there.
    So I put that purty gol’ Grammy up ‘tween their pictures on the mantel,
    the mantel that me an my lil sugar baby now owns.
    Thank you, mama.
    My purty lil sugar baby smiles real big an gives me a squeeze.
    I saved her fo’ hunnert dollars today,
    fixin’ her ole red Caddy.
    Thank you, daddy
    An my sugar babby cuddle up next to me.
    She say,
    “I shore do love you”

  168. Communique 2:28am

    My ex-lovers
    who are witches
    send me visions
    in my dreams
    to let me know
    they are well
    and I should stay
    with their Sister
    and quietly listen
    to the Music
    of the Spheres

  169. I sat and stared out the windowed glass,
    Waiting for the intoxicated bliss to pass,
    A of moment time delayed so fast,
    Making a manic smile my oxymoronic past,
    Wanting to befriend the to of morrow,
    So she came wisp away the sorrow,
    It’s mine to give, but yours to borrow,
    Time passes and the sun leaves,
    I smile as the moon steals me back from the thieves.

  170. You got me so lost, used to love you at any cost, now if you mention love I feel the exhaust.
    Seems to me, all these dreams to be, turned to false reality.
    You never really knew me, how do you really view me? Why did you pursue me? Just to screw me?
    Or just to do me, be true see, because now I know your lying, oh come on now, your not trying, no use in crying the relationships been dying,
    Why didn’t you just tell me the feelings you really had, now our past is really sad, and it’s too bad,
    because I though we would make it, saw a chance, had to take it, saw my heart and you had to break it.

  171. he said the bouncer hit erin.
    an explanation for her bruised face-
    but i know that this is a lie.
    i wish i had the courage to say it:
    i can hear them-the fighting.
    i feel it,my walls shake,
    rumbled by his anger;
    angry fists beating erin against Our wall.

  172. Such A Sight

    Leaves that blow, on a dark tree, wind that will howl, on a spring day. Paintings of pictures, across a great hall, and clocks of great lengths, will vary in times. A hoo of an owl on an old tree, fog on hills, that once were clear. Such a sight would open ones mind, but naught a sight, does exist in any ones eye.

  173. Three Steps
    You take a step forward, and get pushed back three steps. You run so fast, but you feel like your going so slow. You cry to make the pain go away, but it just seems to make you feel worse. You are alive in this world, but are you really living every day, to the fullest. Oh shall am I a shell in this body, just a sheep or robot moving along, with everyone else in this world. I take a step forward, I run so fast, I cry, and somehow I live, and then I slide back, three steps…..

  174. Narcissus

    He’ll never find love,
    As beautiful as he,
    To handsome
    For the radiant aurora,
    To vein,
    For the dreary eternity.

    The search,
    Long and hard,
    The results
    Not what they seemed,
    For his true love,
    Was under his nose,
    In a swallow blue ravine.

    It seemed,
    His reflection,
    He had seen.
    Falling in love,
    With himself,
    The only person,
    As beautiful as he.

  175. Lapsed Away

    Like a bird in a cage,
    Sealed away,
    In disparities,
    No Hope, No Faith, No Freedom.

    Like a severed leg,
    Sliced away,
    In torture,
    No Hope, No Faith, No Freedom.

    Like a shattered dream,
    Banished away,
    In solitude,
    No Hope, No Faith, No Freedom.

    Like a forgotten promise,
    Cemented away,
    In destitution,
    No Hope, No Faith, No Freedom.

    Like a missed opportunity,
    Lapsed away,
    In Remorse,
    No Hope, No Faith, No Freedom.

  176. Nameless Ocean

    How beautiful to watch,
    To feel the calm breathe,
    To smell the fresh serenity,
    To touch the powerful strength,
    To taste the bitter vastness.

    Watching is speculating,
    On the bleakness of the unknown,
    Praying with diversity of aptitudes,
    For opportunity,
    To put faith in the greater and in my own.

    Touching is the chance,
    To become overwhelmed,
    With what has happened,
    And what is yet to become.

    Smelling is relishing,
    In the multitude, grandiose of flavors,
    Which swarm the nasal
    Spiking the tongue,
    Aiding to remember,
    Grateful for the appreciation of life.

    And bringing tranquil feelings to a starving soul.

  177. The Tale of She

    Silent Killer

    Night comes quick
    Without a lay since ‘72
    It wears its frills and thrills
    Red lipstick and underage drinking
    It sweeps the city
    It wants your body
    Plastic surgery
    Plastic surgery

    We are made to distort
    We are made to corrupt
    With pain for pleasure and Christian pornography
    Silent killer, we all look alike
    We sweep the city
    We want your body
    Toxic glowing wings

    You’ll pay the highest price
    For a gun to you head
    Frills and thrills
    Like a rush to roulette
    Sell your body
    For toxic glowing wings.

    Kaleidoscope Stares

    I step out with style
    Plastered, glued faces
    Mold me
    Sculpt me with your razors

    Her eyes resemble red swivel chairs
    Kaleidoscope stares
    The glass cuts my heart and makes it bleed
    Red like her eyes
    Red, hot
    Like the flame that burns
    The flower.

    Will I tell her my
    Perhaps my paranoia of the unseen?

    You stare, kaleidoscope stares
    I bleed, red swivel chairs
    Red Blood
    Like her glass eyes.


    Looking into her eyes
    Resembles looking past the white picket fences
    Into the misunderstood
    Wall of selfless behavior

    Her dreams play back
    And forth
    Seams of dramatic situations
    And the winged mankind
    Of the forth dimension

    Black nail polish is all
    She sees on the stained
    Next to her.


    Sometimes her
    Hands shake
    When shes
    Sometimes she
    Looks really
    Pale and foams
    At the mouth,
    Each breath a
    Chapter of life,
    She doesn’t feel
    Hollow eyes
    Hollow eyes
    Sometimes you can see life.


    She touches her eyes and looks into a
    Mirror imagining a forest of
    Entangling veins pulsating with dried blood.

    He stares at her for only a moment,
    Long enough to see the tears run down
    Her cheeks and feel his own hollow eyes
    Fill with fluid and finally open up.

    Get out, pops in her head, she wipes the
    tears away. Forget, she tries to think,
    that’s what they all will say. She packs her bag,
    Smashing glass, he looks into hollow eyes. I need
    A break, I need to think, I need some time, to unwind.

    I sit in a room full of mirrors
    carefully examining all of my imperfections
    covering the world with hate for the things i cannot change
    i slowly drive myself insane.

  178. Race
    It gets in the way
    Has a long history
    A trail of tears
    Mine is the “privileged” one
    So I shouldn’t talk
    Glue my lips on the topic
    Erase an opinion

    Maybe it’s easier
    Minus hatred and racism
    For at least people know
    They can’t assume you are like them
    Religion and politics
    As valuable as la Raza
    Yet harder to spot
    I thought I wear them on my sleeve
    Yet change your locale
    Your environment
    And people
    They assume
    Assume you are them
    Talk talk talk without conscience
    An off the cuff cheap Jew joke
    Used to laughter from all
    What should I say?
    How can’t you tell?
    Down with Obama…yea for the Mav!
    Do I really need
    A damn democratic ass tattooed to my forehead
    To help me scream out to you
    I am not you!
    I couldn’t be farther from you
    I may be white and privileged
    But please can’t you see
    I have traveled the world
    The history of “my people”
    A historical underdog too

    I too know what it’s like
    to want to be
    something else
    Proud of me without changes
    And yet
    Still somewhere inside
    Wish I was
    Or African
    With gorgeous external beauty
    A bit exotic let’s say
    But mostly an accent
    Obviously different

    You whisper to me
    Things you would not say
    If my insides were flipped outside
    You’d be surprised to see
    Embarrassed of your

  179. I am
    An optimistic realist
    Head in an occasional cloud
    A savor and a spender
    Living in the here and now
    Caring for the future
    Want to change the world
    Try to do it here
    This neighborhood
    Who’d have thought I
    Would love tomatoes?
    Guacamole for days or months
    See the smile
    Intend to be the best

    Changing a life for the better

    Looking for my curbside profit
    For success in the eyes of who?

  180. Something about this melody
    In my ear
    You’ll find me somewhere
    Somewhere over the rainbow

    Who knew a song that once brought images
    Of ruby slippers and witches hats
    A scruffy Toto
    Now conjure up images
    Of serenity and beaches
    Happy people

    My mind is drifting
    What is my wonderful world?
    A Baby’s cry? Mas espanol en mi vida? Photography or writing?
    Continuing this teaching journey?
    Oooo Oooo Ooooo
    Oooo Oooo Oooo

    Hubster sleeps in the room next door
    What is his wonderful world?
    A Baby’s cry? Un poquito de espanol en su vida? Photography or architecture? Bakeries or beer stores?
    Continuing his electrical grind?
    Oooo Oooo Oooo
    Oooo Oooo Oooo

    Something about this melody
    In my ear

  181. Suddenly

    Suddenly I am less terrified to be your daughter
    A little less ashamed of how tangled we became,
    those two years after my son.
    Grown as a tree might
    grafted in some horticultural design.
    Suddenly, I know I am yours
    as I know he is mine
    How innocent we all become
    when it’s that simple; how horrible
    to have found it now. Maybe it’s the lighting
    in here today, or the unnerving way you all
    sound alike on the phone when I call
    and your brother(s), son(s) answers.
    Perhaps it’s your leaving so soon,
    so soon after I’m not so terrified to be your daughter.
    I am a little shaky, my feet aren’t quite my own,
    rather like roots in new dirt, fingering around
    for a solid grip.
    Maybe it is just the lightening in here tonight,
    or the air with it’s musky feel,
    or perhaps it really is you leaving so soon,
    so soon after I am not so terrified to be your daughter.

    1. I look somewhat near the sun,
      Ancient light filtered through the woods,
      Woods that I walk through alone where
      I will take my final rest
      With all creatures who dwell,
      Under the smallest of greens
      I’ll remain to be only what is required of me
      Until my soul is scattered
      How I long to see all that’s left to know
      And oh, the honor, to know all that will ever be known

      Into the core of being,
      Where no earthly mind may enter,
      But I will wear the sun,
      Be returned to others,
      And we shall live again to see so many things

      I must now train my feet to go on with joy
      A joy I‘ve yet to reach
      So, I let the sounds of these woods I have known
      Sink into blood and to bone
      And become no more than what I’m meant to be-
      Until my spirit is extracted, and I experience my passing

  182. Sinking

    My heart is a sinking ship
    My passengers refuse to swim
    No one will come to save them
    It wouldn’t help them if they did

    My passengers crowd upon the bow
    To get a better view
    Of their fellow patrons
    Become engulfed within the blue

    My heart is a sinking ship
    Without the strength to fight his tide
    And I’m drowning beneath the flood
    That I’m feeling deep inside

  183. For Whom will Knock Tommorow

    It comes to each town and each city
    And with no compassion or empathy
    It will permantently mame or destroy
    Each and every life in its path.
    A menace to society, it devours the
    Innocent and the week
    The strong and the devious.
    This killer called Aids
    Where in the hell did it come from?
    When will it stop its rage?
    Hell is where it came from
    Rage is all it knows
    Will it ever go away?
    I fear not, for all my friends are gone
    And my loved ones taken from me
    For whom is left but me now barely existance.
    Aids had completed its job, its task is done.
    For whom will knock tomorow.
    And the devious does not belong.

    1. The last three words escaped my editing eye! (And the devious)-does not belong.
      Just so you all know.

    2. For Whom Will Knock Tommorow

      It comes to each town and every city
      And with no compassion or empathy
      It permantly mames and destroys
      Each and every life in its path.
      A menace to society, it devours
      The weak and the innocent
      The strong and the devious.
      This killer called Aids
      Where did it come from?
      Will it ever stop its rage?
      Hell is where it came from
      Rage is all it knows.
      I’m afraid its here to stay
      For all my friends are gone
      And loved ones taken from me
      For who is left but me now
      Barely in exsistance.
      Its task is done, its mission complete
      for whom will knock tommorow.

      1. Hi Marshall,

        Your poem really hits home. I lost a really good friend Sept 2009, he had been on the Aids cocktail for years and died of liver cancer. It was horrible, I didn’t see him after he was diagnosed with liver cancer, I found out later, he had died. Recently, I was searching around and came across this link with some new aids information, I had not heard anywhere else. I was curious what you think of this podcast link?

  184. A Happier Ending

    I want a happier ending
    than the beginning that I had

    I want that fairy tale rescue
    with a never ending love

    Or I could be the heroin
    who overcomes all odds

    I pray it every day,
    It pours out from my heart…

    “Oh God don’t let me ending be as tragic as my start”

  185. Living In My Solitude World

    I feel like nothing
    Every emotion has no real point, like nothing
    My head tells me I’m nothing
    My heart makes me happy and sad for nothing
    My daily abilities accomplish nothing
    I must be nothing

    By now I live in nothing
    I think of nothing
    I listen to nothing
    I break down for nothing
    My world has become nothing
    I must be nothing

    With this nothingness
    I gain nothing
    I lose nothing
    Except one thing
    I gain more solitude
    I lose more of you

    I must be nothing
    While living in my solitude world
    I must be nothing

  186. Before The Dawn Arises

    During the day, reality has become my enemy
    I can’t stand knowing you are gone anymore
    I can’t stand the truth wrapping my head
    As I wait for you to slowly come back

    But then comes the darkness
    And I’m anxious to sleep deeply
    For there you always are
    And there you always stay

    I live those moments the best I can
    I take it all in and never leave you out of my sight
    And I do everything in those dreams
    Before the dawn arises and takes it away again

  187. As My Soul Dies

    Pasted on my face is the fake smile that hides my lies
    Can’t anyone see I am still here?
    My feelings become nothing as my soul dies

    I can hide within myself with the hidden cries
    The storm of tomorrow is near
    Pasted on my face is the fake smile that hides my lies

    Soon all I will rely on are blood shedding knives
    I’m forever broken, don’t try to fix me, my dear
    My feelings become nothing as my soul dies

    I’m done trying to be heard, all the tries
    I’ve now rejected this world out of fear
    Pasted on my face is the fake smile that hides my lies

    I’ll lay here like a worthless sacrifice
    Nonexistent with my curdling scream in your ear
    My feelings become nothing as my soul dies

    Go on, you all sit there as I say my final goodbyes
    Sliding down my face, the only time I’ll allow, my last bloody tear
    Pasted on my face is the fake smile that hides my lies
    My feelings become nothing as my soul dies

  188. For Knowledge!

    10,000 ideas facing each other
    10,000 arguments arranged by decimals

    Thoughts floating in perfect rows.

    10,000 opinions, some more opinionated than others
    Concepts screaming in silence from across the aisles
    Millions of syllables perfectly picked for precision,
    Or at least a personal perception of perfection.

    Dead compressed trees supporting more dead compressed trees
    Thoughts splashed across pages of death

    Somewhere Mother Nature must be crying “All this slaughter! And for what!? Knowledge?”
    And somewhere a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes who loves animals is crying because anything she’ll ever learn will be in sacrifice.
    Not of her own but of the world.
    She thinks “Maybe the internet is good for something.”

    Fourteen empty rooms are sitting in the athenaeum
    And in the rooms there are libraries of themselves
    100,000 ideas facing each other shouting in synapse from across abstract aisles
    Arranged by lobes, cortexes, axons, and neurons.

    Taking these syllables from the empty rooms to the shelves is such a process.
    What a waste of life.
    Across the library, filled with constant reminders of the concretes immortality and the abstracts boundlessness, I see a hardly filled room.
    I’d like to think I am a hardly filled room.
    Her not so young eyes roll across a deceased leaf.
    I wonder if she has ever mourned for the uprooted
    I wonder if I have.

  189. Look around. Can you see this?
    All the beauty of the morning
    When the spring is drowsily yawning
    And the creeks are freely flowing
    And the shroud of icing ceases

    Look around at the mountains
    At the swallows in the air
    At the little runnig hare
    At the moon’s mysterious glare
    In the sparkles of the fountains

    See the sun, the trees, the flowers
    That are making way through snow
    Feel the wind that easily throws
    Loud grumpy sooty crows
    Off the tops of city’s towers.

    Hear the rain play drums on ledges.
    See the kids jump in the puddle
    Or the little kittens cuddle
    Or the perky sparrows huddle
    On the branches of the hedges

    Look at spring divine and pleasant
    And one night when sky is clear
    Look at stars and know – he’s here…
    One who’d give to you, my dear,
    All of this as joyous present.

  190. This sleepless night the darkness’s all around
    I’m walking through my memories again
    Boy, listen, I’m so hopeless please don’t bring me to the ground…
    Please smile at me; it will ease up my pain.

    I hate those days I have been facing lately
    And I still miss you holding me so tight.
    But you have let my hand just slip off yours and, boy, I hate it…
    Midst all the fights I’ve lost who’s wrong, who’s right.

    And there I am…alone with constant pressure
    And you don’t answer all my calls for aid
    I guess for all this time you left me with my only leisure
    To humbly bounce on the razor’s blade.

    And you can see that I am really trying
    To sheer myself from going all insane.
    But that just makes me more deluded… and your ruthless lying
    Will leave its mark, its everlasting stain.

  191. You’ve turned the lights off, locked the door.
    You’re left alone to fight the war.
    All you believed in seems to slowly disappear.
    Your scream grows thick inside the walls
    It joined the choir of restless souls
    Your spirit is in claws of constant fear
    You punch the wall until you bleed
    You’re trying hard to change your creed
    To separate your demons from your saints.
    And all this happens night by night,
    You get confused who’s wrong, who’s right.
    While making way through thickets of restraints.

    You look around. Nowhere to go
    You have become your own foe
    And only shadows would surround your dreams.
    And you rethink your life again
    Insanely trying to stay sane,
    And humbly begging for forgiveness for you sins
    And you believe your way is right.
    That you’ll survive this brutal fight.
    That all the things you’ve asked for will be heard
    You took your chance and fought your war
    You’ve opened up the life’s new door
    You realized the things you have deferred.

  192. “The Other, the Woman”

    Took hundreds of years for us to be

    the solid piece of heart that we are.

    Spreading out our hands we know what’s receiving;

    a trade for what we created with what is retreating.

    An eye for an eye; If it were equality,

    but instead we are evolved too emotional poverty.

    Freedom came to our door with an obligation,

    to hold silent in masked formation.

    Keeping against their judgements we know one day;

    though half we are, whole will be ours someday.

    As more then Woman,

    but no less then human.

    While time allows for years too build around,

    we will be waiting perfectly still on our designated ground.

    Words and Photo By: E Sepulveda

  193. My eyes will drift,
    My heart will die,
    My spirit will lift,
    And fall down from the sky.

    Down to the ground,
    In plummeting despair,
    What I have found,
    I cannot share.

    A world full of joy,
    I world full of hate,
    A world so coy,
    What is my fate?

    What shall be found,
    In a world with no light?
    To lift of the ground,
    To spread my wings in flight.

    The air rushes past,
    As the night slips by,
    I live at last,
    But only a lie.

    What no one could see,
    No one could tell,
    For I cannot be,
    Very far from this hell.

    Lurking above me,
    Even in day,
    A river of green,
    An ocean of gray.

    But long past the grave,
    Into the dark,
    I am a slave,
    About to embark.

    The things that I’ve seen,
    The things that are light,
    Are hardly serene,
    Compared to the night.

    The night is this time,
    When no one’s around,
    Without all the grime,
    Without all the sound.

    The eternal silence,
    The lover of dark,
    Can spread pestilence,
    Like wind spreads a bark.

    And in the moment,
    Of my least despair,
    I hear a hint,
    A breaking of air.

    The world has returned,
    The night has faded,
    I have learned,
    I am not so jaded.

    I seem to believe,
    That I am sad,
    But to deceive,
    Is to feel this bad.

  194. The words I write,
    The words I feel,
    That even the night,
    Can’t begin to conceal.

    In your heart,
    You see the truth,
    And every part,
    Can be your proof.

    The pit in you head,
    The warmth in your heart,
    What isn’t said,
    Will be your unrest.

    Follow my voice,
    Through each lonely night,
    There is no choice,
    You know what feels right.

    I believe in your love,
    As I look in your eyes,
    I won’t give the shove,
    That leads you to lies.

    Look through the dark,
    And see the light,
    There is a spark,
    That ends this fight.

    This fight with yourself,
    This fight you can’t name,
    A beast you can’t help,
    A beast you can’t tame.

    Once a candle,
    Now a torrent of flame,
    We can’t even handle,
    The absence of shame.

    To destroy the path,
    To shatter the road,
    Understand the wrath,
    Of the power you hold.

    Worlds collide,
    And meaning is lost,
    When you confide,
    I feel the frost.

    What’s sane is sane,
    What’s true is true,
    But I forget about pain,
    When I’m loving you.

  195. The things that are perfect,
    The things that are great,
    The things that reflect,
    My love and hate.

    You, are that mirror,
    There on that wall,
    You are yourself,
    The fairest one of them all.

    When all have left,
    You can be there,
    With the smile you have,
    And the smell of your hair.

    Your wonderful shape,
    Your sparkling eyes,
    Just looking at you,
    Gives me butterflies.

    The lump in my throat,
    The tears in my eyes,
    The words that I wrote,
    Could not summarize.

    The way that I feel,
    The thoughts that I had,
    The permanent seal,
    What could make me more sad?

    The explosions inside me,
    I could never let out,
    The part you will see,
    Is only the doubt.

    My heart pumps my blood,
    My tears fall like rain,
    I will never forget,
    How crazy, how sane.

    The only thing,
    That drives me away,
    The song that I sing,
    Can not let me stay.

    If I sit in one place,
    I will surely die,
    I can’t keep this pace,
    Or see eye to eye.

    For the love of the sun,
    For the love of the moon,
    My heart weighs a ton,
    I must see you soon.

    My day is spent waiting,
    For when I see you,
    The rest I am rating,
    The things that I do.

    I feel like a child,
    How lonely, how cold,
    I remember you smiled,
    When I tried to be bold.

    I don’t know if you’ll see this,
    I don’t know if you’ll care,
    But I am is bliss,
    When we share the same air.

  196. Happiness is only real when its shared
    we stand alone on the edge
    of life and living
    our relation to the world is jaded
    as we’ve forgotten where we stand
    liberty beyond our own imagination
    imagine nothing
    no hope or time to relate
    to our relationship with us
    collective society is a must
    tiny grains of sand in a vast universe
    as our souls ignite we are bound together
    built like glass so fragile
    we’d have to move like clockwork
    for when the glass is broken
    we fall to pieces
    just another grain
    a particle of dust swept away
    list in the transition
    grasping onto nothing
    we are failing, falling freely
    whats left to do but enjoy the ride
    and pray we may pass another grain
    if only for a moment

  197. Look in the mirror
    what are we missing
    all I can see
    are some flaws
    with my features
    the matter we’re missing
    is our own construct
    we build our reflection
    based on consultation
    from filters formed
    by the beauty of society
    we’ve created a form
    we’re expected to follow

    so next time you stand
    in front of the mirror
    look at the picture
    and see a bit clearer
    your face and its features
    are nothing without
    the soul that’s behind
    your brains hazy cloud
    look in your eyes
    stair for a while
    is there a fire that burns
    or just a faint smile

    by dusean dunbar



    1. THE FATHERS VISION….by dusean dunbar

      IN DEATH…



  199. Hummingbirds’ Song

    Perhaps it is wrong that I can’t help but feel
    That it’s not my concern, or affair,
    Or selfish emotion that makes me go searching
    for someone like you – for whom I could care,
    While fearing to find any love, of any kind –
    Whether vissions of grandeur, or love that is blind
    Both love of the body – and love of the mind.
    I would gladly explain – if listen, you dare…

    I once fell in love – I think it was love
    In the blue light of the midnight moon
    A sweet melody – a hummingbirds’ song…
    My god, what a pretty little tune
    With Leprechauns dancing to the beat…
    Trampling snow flakes under their feet
    A finer crew you never shall meet…
    No wonder they they all see me as a crazy old loon…

    Hearing the sound of the raindrops bouncing
    from the leaves in the valley bellow,
    My thoughts drift to you – snowed in in the mountains..
    It must make you feel a migh’ alone
    Where the warmth of the fire makes you feel dreary
    And the comfort of drink has turned you too weary
    to realize the loss of the insight you carried
    to find beauty in a blanket of snow

    Where once we both found a vission of tenderness
    Wrapped up in love, and all of it’s wonderfulness
    Now we find only a feeling of emptiness…
    A void – where a freind used to be…

  200. The Sidewalk

    Lowered eyes capture
    This dull gray surface
    Silent steps, quiet breeze
    And the occasional horn

    Step after step
    The moment carries me
    To far off places
    Of yesterday’s walkways

    Sand and beaches
    Wind and rain
    Rocks and gunshots
    The heartache of loneliness

    Step after step
    This flat hard surface
    Runs beneath my tired feet
    To the tune of the person sleeping on it

    Step after step
    Focused and silent
    I see nothing but light
    And suddenly, it hits me…


  201. Tainted Milk

    They say to be strong, Live long
    And Drink a glass of milk
    But what does milk do to a plant
    Nothing but make it wilt

    They say to love first, conspire second
    And take it like a man
    And you aren’t cool enough to date
    Unless you wear name brand

    Pop is in and rock is dead
    With demons in your mind
    And lots of junk on QVC
    To make you leave your money behind

    With love lost, your wallet tossed
    And plants all dead to wilt
    Take good advice, you can’t live twice
    And beware of tainted milk

    (c) James Andre – 4/19/2007


    My life has been spent endlessly searching
    Struggling to find – a partner – a friend…
    Someone with whom I could talk so easily
    as I do with paper and pen…

    My nights have been littered with futile attempts…
    With unforgiving discoveries, filled with contempt
    for the kind of fool I have chosen to be
    And for the other fools I choose to set free…
    Contempt for my kindness – my humor – my love…
    And for all of the precious gifts from above
    that I can see clearly enough to hold dearly,
    but that slip right under their point of view…

    Last night – while all of my searching rested,
    all of my want – my longing – was bested
    by the presence of your beauty, and tales of your loss
    And the strength of your feelings of “Family first, at any cost”
    A vission I did see
    A light – A melody…
    With harmonies so clear
    I would have sworn they were my own…
    A song I’ll be singing forever
    On the journy of life…
    On the road that leads home…

    Today my mind wonders – through memories – and lies…
    And through the wonderfull feeling I’d love to deny…
    Through the beautiful meeting between you and I,
    That, so far, seems to lead nowhere…

    Copyright 1999

  203. sometimes in the morning

    sometimes in the morning
    when i’m getting dressed
    I find the jeans I want to wear
    dirty and rumpled on the floor

    sometimes i wear them anyway.
    sometimes i wear a different pair
    but i feel awkward in them, like i’m wearing
    someone else’s face around my thighs

  204. I really loved this poem you wrote, brought a tear to my eyes actually. I am also a writer, and if you can bring tears with your writing it is very strong. Great job, and I’m sorry your father wasnt a better one.

    1. Thanks, brotha. I truly appreciate it. Sometimes I think of things I wish my dad would have done with me, and I just go do ’em with my own kids. So in kind of a strange, twisted way he helps me be a better dad.

      1. You are very welcome. The phrase goes ” learn from your mistakes” you learned from your fathers mistakes. You saw what hurt you inside, said to yourself you never want your own children to feel that, thats what makes a good dad. I did the same, my father is a great guy, very strict but us kids turned out the way we did because of it. I don’t dicipline in the same way because hitting only brings pain, never teaches you anything, and that pain inside never goes away. My fathers father left when he was 5 yrs old, grew up without one, so I do know how you feel. I hope your children appreciate your efforts.

  205. Take the theme of the oceans.
    Shipwreck, sinking shipwreck.
    Water rising up to the neck.
    Death by vast elixir.
    I sink down to the bottom.
    Covered by dusk upon the horizon.
    I sink down to the bottom.

    Now take the theme of a storm.
    Dark winds, frantic dark winds.
    Wet leaves raining on severed heads.
    Death by drug addicted happenings.
    I sink down to the bottom.
    In the calm eye of the storm, my friends.
    Still sinking…
    Keep sinking…

    If the weather clears which I don’t think it can, I will attach myself to an anchor and let it’s strength reel me in.
    If The Devil’s clouds vanish from overhead, I’ll finally look up, thanking someone or something.
    But I know this will never end and it hurts to know you can never win.

    We really don’t have to live bad lives.
    All the obsession and misdirections.
    Thoughts lost connection in weathered time.
    When the last laugh hurts the heart and the lonely weather starts, there will be no one to come clean.

    Whatever that means…

  206. Long Island, I can never let you go but as of lately I’m beginning to think you’re nothing more than my greatest enemy.
    All of your towns read like a headstone in the cold and I for one have died over a hundred times wishing I could figure out just who the fuck I am.
    The air here has become grim and stale.
    I can see daggers in the clouds as they rain heavily on everything and I can’t help but settle down under the blades showering my skin.
    It just doesn’t seem fair.
    It doesn’t seem fair when all you have to give is nothing more than wasted time.
    Nothing more than a burnt out light even when you do all that you can to keep on pushing through.
    I wish I didn’t put all of my faith in your crowded space.
    You are the blood inside my veins and I was built to work this way but there is something in my stream that clogs my heart from keeping safe.
    It doesn’t seem fair to me.
    Even your empty, broken streets make like a mirror reflecting back at me yet I can barely even see.
    I am distorted beyond belief and I need to make it clear that if I want to find the answers then it’s time to ask another world before my questions go unheard and I am lost under Long Island dirt.

  207. Close the door when you come through.
    You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.
    We can rest with the cobwebs and tickling skin.
    Make everything else go away.
    Blue lips…
    Whiteout eyes and there’s a hole where your heart had been.
    I can still hear it beat.
    Is that crazy?
    A dead pattern of rhythmic sleep.
    Tossing and turning to nothing.
    I am crazy.
    Just go back to sleep before you start this all over again.
    Rip all the pictures from your head and soon you will forget,
    Is that too crazy for you?
    Slam your thoughts against the wall.
    No one’s awaiting your return.
    An empty room, oh palest blue, just wishing to breathe again.
    No one is coming back for you.
    Is it getting colder?
    I knew it would…
    Can’t have everything you want so stay in bed and block out The Sun.
    Such a legend at killing warmth.
    You had it all and crushed its worth.
    Is that too crazy for you?
    Well it’s the truth.
    Fuck the sunlight and get your head right.

  208. Vedanta Victory

    The good news is…
    The light and the word are known through strong seed;
    The downside is…
    The cliff approaching is of greed.

    Come pass over squares,
    Re-orient yourselves;
    She has a way
    Of making ice melt.

    Water is swirling,
    Flushing cards I’ve been dealt;
    The deck is in my hands,
    The table is green felt.

    This ain’t a good living-
    Hanging on for dear life;
    Rune sticks crossfire friction;
    Where there is depth there is height.

    I could use a grant in general,
    Abraham’s America is in shit deep;
    Holed up in a Charleston Harbor,
    How blue can I be?

    Dynamic might as cell explosive,
    Green leaves laid mountains to rubble;
    Let the love train roll on,
    To popping Dupont’s bubble.

    V is for Vedanta Victory;
    When pulled by mules, V is a plow,
    On the hand, it’s Peace or Fuck You;
    With geese, it’s flying North or South.

    If dreaming is of value,
    And vision is in verse,
    Inveigh the vessels vestry
    To verify the verge.

    If Sagebrush is Nevada’s flower
    And Denver values the Sage;
    V is a catch 22 letter
    When 5 alive is in vain.

  209. It is all
    It is far too much and not enough
    On nights like this I return to my dwelling
    Half intoxicated with oxygen depravation
    Too much laughter, too much drink

    On nights like this, I am awake with praise
    Thanking God I am alive
    And aware
    And a-wit
    I am surrounded by people who love me and I love and yet…

    On nights like this I am conscious with want
    I scan the room over and over turning my thoughts
    Turning all thoughts on something
    On someone else
    I laugh too loudly
    Deafening my ears to your voice in my head

    Oh, that it were not
    Oh, that sleep were stealthy and swift
    That I could quickly dream
    And dream of naught
    That I not rise and fall at the thought of your rousing
    And slumber without hoping you are drifting to thoughts of me

    It will not do
    These thoughts of you
    Adieu, adieu
    It will not do.

  210. What of you that chooses
    weather you prefer spring or fall
    day for night; right from wrong.

    What of you that may remain
    longer then a name chiseled
    upon faceless granite
    lying forgotten in the taller grass
    hoping for pennies of thoughts.

    What of you that seeks those
    places that are hidden
    in shadow except
    for that moment of day
    eager to begin the eve
    but hesitant to let go of the day.

    What of you that is
    close upon my fingers in the night
    sweaty hunger for passion
    richer then passion itself
    stolen with furtive whispers
    and lipless promise.

  211. appreciation…

    by digo rockztar

    why is it when we receive this gift of life
    we appreciate it like how a child appreciates a toy ?

    it would be better if we appreciated it like how an eagle appreciates its wings.

  212. The gods must be crazy

    I go back to the well of memory
    Throw my wishes in and watch
    As the coins return.

    Hard metallic they smack my
    Cheeks, dent my mouth, ask
    That I cry. Lines of red sneak
    Down my throat into my neck
    Below my chest.

    Not a one formulated
    In the correct manner,
    Apparently, to be
    Considered worthy.
    Not a one deemed
    Fulsome all and noxious
    Maybe even toxic.
    How could I not have known?
    The gods, they’re like that, no?
    They play with mortals’ fears
    They use us for their playtimes.

    I always did know this, thus:
    The gods must be crazy.
    Yet it’s me who’s unbalanced
    By totally predictable happenings.
    It’s me who’s undone by my
    Selfish flinging coins.
    The wishes should stay on level ground
    Always and I should travel footloose
    Into my well of memory and regret.

  213. Another Day Off

    Sitting at the window with my cat
    It’s early Fall.
    I’m talking to him like he’s a person
    Which he is.
    In fact, he’s my late Aunt Gerry
    I can tell by his eyes.
    Also by his kindnesses and
    Just the way he looks at me.

    We’re trying to figure out what I should do next
    To relax.
    There’s knitting, spinach pie baking, there’s
    Even a nap?
    Nike hasn’t got his mind totally
    On the subject.
    He’s fixated on this yellow jacket/wasp
    Who’s stuck between the screen and the window.

    Nike really is a girl’s name
    We didn’t know about the Greek goddess
    We named him for his sneaker feet.
    How silly.
    So boy in girl’s name but
    Wait a minute!
    Boy in girl’s body too – now.
    Our poor lovely desexed baby!

    Should I come back as a cat too?
    Would it be a simpler life?
    Knowing me, blahblahblah,
    That’s what they’ll all say.
    Petme, feedme, brushme
    Squeezeme, hugme, loveme.
    I could maybe do that as along as
    My knitting came along too.

    1. I really enjoy reading your work. Visual and emotional – even spiritual – yet hopeful or at least not depressing. There is some incredible writing on this site but I often feel as if I should report it to the suicide hotline. You are a fresh breath. Keep it up. Thank you – tony

  214. Two trees are whispering their secrets today.
    Sh-shushing so others cannot hear
    Bent against the sky, faded green and brown,
    Thin but stalwart, readying for the buffetings to come.
    I eye them as I pass by.

    Stray leaves dance figure-eights around my ankles,
    Gleeful in the unwinterly sun of this New Year’s Day.

    At the lake, as I pass by, ducks go clickety-clacking
    They dip beaks into the half-frozen water. . .

    And wait until you hear about the geese!
    They really are saying: RAH RAH RAH RAH
    RAH RAH RAH, a domestic squawking uproar it is.

    A petite warbler, teal-blue jacket and brown vest, hops
    Branch to farther branch until a tipsy child,
    Paddling along with parents, sets him in flight,
    Their dog intent on traces of the palomino up ahead.

    The sky is all around us now and tastes like a lover,
    One that will soon be on his way and may stop around again.

  215. It can seem impossible to convince,
    But water washes rocks clean,
    Skepticism and disbelief, no prudence.
    The subtle proofs are rarely seen.

    To believe is not absurd,
    The times are closing fast,
    Just listen up, for the word
    Your soul, for certain, wont be cast.

    Tongues for the dumb,
    eyes for the blind, and ears for the deaf,
    A sheep seems numb
    but the tiger starves by the mal-nourished soldier drowned by his caraff.

    With thirty thousand cries of anguish,
    and a thousand fold more of despair,
    we can no longer feed the fish,
    so under water we must dare.

    To preach without sermon,
    to live without life
    pressed by pounds of burden,
    sorrow and pain to fight strife.

    A survivor among thousands
    a breath of air in a closed off cavern
    water cleanses the sands,
    and the lizard gets lost in a fern.

  216. There is a place
    on this earth,
    where even when you dont move
    you become the most
    lost of them all.

    This place is
    not physical,
    but a mental state–
    its an odd place
    called Confusion.

    The things you do
    seem rather crude
    and eventually you
    just sigh and wonder
    why oh why.

    Then your brain
    starts to move
    and the little hampster
    in the wheel
    chases after his treat

    You realise why
    and after moments,
    it becomes oh so clear
    the stupid things
    you had done in Confusion.

    Confusion could be
    The Vegas of mind sets.
    Except for the idea
    that what happens there,
    stays there…

    No matter how
    far in Confusion
    you get lost,
    all that you say
    can be taken away.

    After you get deep
    into the state
    people try
    to pull you out
    but generally fail

    Soon, you come
    out of the idiotic
    state…Confusion *tsk*
    and everything
    to you is well…

    But you might have
    done some wrong
    but there’s no fixing
    whats been done
    so live with it…

    1. Three and One
      and One is Three
      Day falls to Night
      and Night is Day
      The Sun never moves
      Always moving Sun
      Thirty and Thirty-one
      Turn to twelve in one
      Seven less eleven
      back down to three and one
      Create, destroy
      Destroy to create
      Eruptive volcano
      and a sudden quake
      New land from below
      Below is the land

      And in the end
      It all boils down
      One is all
      and all is one.

  217. I pace up and down the stairwell
    Watching, listening, breathing.
    I am free but I am not
    I am alive yet I don’t live
    I am trapped
    Yes a perfect description
    I am trapped in this cage
    Unable to full spread my wings
    I listen, I listen to the cheerful chirps of those free

    I am free but I’m not
    I am alive yet I don’t live
    I am trapped
    Yes… trapped


    Today I will smile only at fat girls.
    Every girl desires a smile
    the eyes flutter, the lips curl
    as they turn their heads away,
    but, for me just the fat girls today.

    Every girl desires a smile
    but men snatch their eyes away
    It’s understandable but it’s vile
    but nobody likes the pain
    in the eyes of a girl who’s plain.

    Men snatch their eyes away,
    but for me just the fat girls today,
    because life is bitter
    the rose on the table decays,
    and joy just a flitter,
    youth just a summer’s day.
    And the girls who are fat
    do not even get that.

    A fat girl’s afraid to be seen
    men snatch their eyes away
    I’ll make her feel a queen,
    as she blushes and turns away,
    for me just the fat girls today.

    1. I didn’t know anyone else did this. Thank you for spreading joy. Everyone deserves respect – and an occasional wink!

    the time is broken:

    all hours – in a pile,

    a mile’s an hour

    and an hour is a mile,

    a tear is a smile,

    a smile’s a tear,

    the courage is a fear,

    the measures of the length and duration

    are on probation

    by the patience-

    the brain needs ventilation

    and the belief- some adoration.

    Ivan Petryshyn

  220. Peace
    Starts within
    finding your Peace
    And with Peace
    of the individual
    the Family becomes
    Peace and so
    on until the
    Earth is at Peace
    And with peace on
    Earth our
    greater reality is
    at Peace returning
    Peace to us, to
    the whole of us,
    which is at


    at that point, the word didn’t have any meaning,

    and only the fact had a feeling

    of the necessity to be content,

    alas, that month could grant

    only uncertainty in patience

    and a fact with some brain applied

    in doubts and discord,

    in the big refrain that was definied

    being less pleasant

    than all that nice accord.

    Ivan Petryshyn

  222. DESTINY

    You finish my sentences, I complete your smile.
    Your bring forth a candle, and I furnish the flame.
    We watch the world together, and for a short while,
    Our lives are joined forever and share the same name.

    You read me a poem I had written for you.
    The words ring out like you had written it for me.
    Then we stroll the evening shore as lovers will do.
    And our lips find each other…as sand does the sea!

    Then the joy of the morning arrives with the dawn,
    As once more your loveliness takes my breath away.
    And though we pray such mornings will continue on,
    There is no tomorrow–there is only today!

    Like the synergy of nature that beats with one heart,
    Like the sun that brings nourishment to the soul-starved land,
    No matter the moments, how few they be, or apart,
    Ah, no matter where we go our souls walk hand in hand!

    For the world is endless, the mathematics are great!
    The sand is infinite…as are droplets in the sea!
    Yet despite the frailty of chance, and odds against fate,
    Ah, this life we found together was our destiny!

    For it was written in the stars and forged by the sun
    That two distant but exact hearts would conjoin as one!
    So let the cynics eschew–for they haven’t a clue,
    There is love in this cosmos that is destined and true!
    For if it be not holy how the sand finds the sea,
    If our lives have no cosmic meaning or destiny,
    Then how in the world did I find you and you find me?

    It’s all subject to doubt –
    His eye is on the sparrow.
    Early to bed, early to rise.
    The quality of mercy.
    We learned the words but not the heart,
    and now in winter’s shaky grip
    we ask as questions what we knew as statements.

    I cannot fathom what the shallowness of life
    has given me.
    I cannot loose myself from the icy landscape
    and fly away to my mind’s springtime.

    If there is a solstice of the mind
    something will crack and thaw and start the rivers

    Questions will become their own answers
    as darkness gives way to light.

  224. YOU

    You started reading. You could say something. Anything. Right now.
    You could lift you head up from the page, look around, see if there
    are people around, or if you’re in a room by your lonesome; not that
    you don’t already know. You do. You could say something aloud; you
    could announce how you feel for once; you could snicker and not tell
    anyone why; you could say anything; you could say something aloud.
    What wouldn’t you say aloud? You keep reading. Have you ever thought
    about interruption? Remember those times you let your blurts out?
    What happened afterwards? How does it make you feel now?
    You still read. You could say something aloud. Say something aloud. Say it.
    Say what you would say to someone that’s not even there. Say anything.
    Make something up. Say ‘squilp’. Really say it. You keep reading.
    You think the word ‘words’ a little bit. You think. Say ‘Go.’
    You stopped reading for a moment.

  225. Can you feel my heart beating ?

    I want to love you, I really do but see we haven’t known each other long enough to even feel that strongly about one another.
    I want to be with you but see we have a physical distance even though our hearts are beating as one.
    Its like you’re never here and we don’t exist and I never hear from you but I always run into you in my dreams. Almost always forgetting that you’re mine and I’m yours.
    If I could I would run away and leave.
    But I can’t because I dreamed that one day every ounce of you would involve me. Wishing our souls could connect at the deepest level of emotional satisfactory. I want to love you in the kind of way she didn’t, you see. .I want to leave off at where she started but never finished.
    I want our lives to be just one.
    I want the story of our love to be written as a song.
    Can you feel my heart beating ?
    every breath I take is for you
    I dream to be wrapped up in you.
    but when I awake and turn around.
    You are no where to be found.
    I still believe in you
    Because our love is stronger than any day and any night.
    No matter the hour, the day or the time. Our heart beats will still beat to the same rhythm and my soul will still be parallel to the spirit of your being.
    Yet, I ask you once again. .
    Can you feel my heart beating?

    Chasity Stewart

  226. This Love

    This Love aint what it seem. .
    All we have left Is this dream.
    And I don’t want to wake up
    Because with out you, there would be no scene.
    Your love filters my brain like a tumor
    Your image spread around my cerebrum like a rumor. .
    I can’t help but not want to wake up from you. .
    I mean what else do I have to hold on to ?
    Ever since you’ve been gone.
    The melody of my heart beat has been put on repeat. .
    Same song. .
    Different tone. .
    Why try to fight alone?
    If beauty could kill
    Our Love would be dead. .
    Waterfalls of tears running out of my eyes. .
    When I think about you my only alternate solution is to cry.
    Why can’t I be the girl you love
    Instead of the one, that wasn’t worth fighting for.
    If I could I would give my all to you.
    It’s Funny I figured out that this was all a lie.
    Our Love was FAKE
    And so were your emotions.
    Caught up in the hype
    That almost famous shit
    Never turned out, the way u wanted it.
    Late nights in the studio
    Working on some wack shit
    Going days without sleep
    On some crack shit
    Tryna live in the moment
    But you never adapted
    All this time u were playing me
    U should of studied acting
    Our Love, just wasn’t logical.
    But our souls connected
    Like triplets,
    I wish we would of turned out different
    Everything went so fast
    Just know that when u decide to relapse from being unattached from that spiritual connection, our sexual stimulation, the intensity of our inner most connection.
    I will be here.
    Not waiting for you.
    But I will still be here.
    Because true Love rotates.
    And when you’re on your way back around.
    You just might run into me.
    And it won’t be a coincidence.
    If we fall back in LOVE.
    and the next time we run into each other.
    Everything we’ve ever shared.
    Will still be FRESH
    FRESH Like custom made J’s
    On Karmaloop
    FRESH like LB’s first free throw shoot
    Everything that’s LOVE re connects
    Just like wifi internet.
    You’ll fall for me
    And. .
    I’ll fall for you.
    And the label of our old LOVE
    Will be,
    Brand NEW.

    By: Chasity Stewart

  227. Perfect Combination

    There are people who are taken, and people who are given,
    but only God’s will are either of them living,Most of them are alive,
    many times just hard to find but i think i’ve found the one,
    He was sent from heaven,I don’t know him i say,we’ve barely even spoken
    but my spirit is so drawn to him,make it go away
    for hearts will be broken,I dream of him in my sleep,
    ever so gently in the night. .I wake up to him in my thoughts,
    I cant stop it..But i must fight for just one drop of his love,
    I’ll write for it, hey i’m even staying up all night for it,
    And if the night is what it takes to get whats heaven sent,
    grab hold to it, because life was changed ever since,
    for better or worse, there’s only one way to find out,
    so beyond the physical, trying to figure your mind out,
    I found something special in this given person,
    she was given by the father and for him,
    there’s no rehearsing. He makes no mistakes with who he gives his blessing,
    so, i guess this mean’s i’m taken because my mind is where you’re resting, to say that i’m feeling you
    would hardly do you justice love/ smile face’s and hearts imy text’s just because ?
    and although everything that glitter’s isn’t gold,
    I’m certain you’re worth it so let’s see how far it can go,
    third factor, yet first and for most is GOD,
    and through him, we are forever,
    never could we do his job,
    Maybe a question i’ve been thinking about often,
    is you on my mind, or this time have i lost it?
    always going for the best never settling for less,
    yet i’ve come up short every time, do i let it rest? or do i press?
    Because i don’t want to miss a blessing, I know what’s in my heart so there won’t
    be any guessing and God know’s my heart too, so i’ll just wait on him to let
    me know what to do ♥
    Suddenly, I stop and think what if this is not a fixation?
    Maybe my spirit knows the truth,just the thought brings elation.
    I do not believe that love just happens, I believe its really planned,
    Just like the birds and the bees, and the pebbles in the sand.
    I await my destiny, this man I see in my dream.
    I await this moment in which my heart will surely scream.
    One day I’ll know, oh yes, in the future I will see.
    For I know our spirits know … that together we will be…

    By: Chasity Stewart

  228. Split In Two

    I am split into two
    One is homeless and alone
    The other is alone in a home
    The first one gave up and stops fighting
    The second one will never give up and stop fighting
    They both was charge and arrest for a crime they did not do
    The first one feels hopeless feeling like there is nothing out there
    The second one has a little hope left but it is going fast
    The first one fears of being homeless forever
    The second one worries about becoming homeless
    They are both the same person
    They both lives on other worlds
    They both lived through the same events
    But, after one event they took two different paths
    Not knowing about each other but, have the same worries
    Both wishing that there life was different
    Both wishing that they could go back in time
    Wondering how life would be different
    They are both split into two worlds

  229. Hollywood

    Dreams comes here to be born
    Dreams comes here to die
    It is a place where the poor could be rich
    It is like nowhere in the world
    It is a place will people could pretend to be famous
    It is a place where you could have a little fun
    It is a place to get into trouble
    If you are not careful you could lose your life
    There are angels and demons living side by side
    Con artist taking you for everything you have
    The police are supposed to protect you
    But, you do not know who to trust
    People comes here from all over
    From places like New York, New York and London, England
    People with different pasts
    People with different futures
    Some will help you if they can
    Some will take everything from you if they can
    It is truly like no other place
    The place that I am talking about is of course
    Is Hollywood in Cali

  230. Alone

    I am alone because I was forced to be
    Because of what happen to me
    I hate being alone
    It is no fun
    I am alone in the dark with no light
    I see my demons when I am alone
    They also see me
    I am alone because of what I am
    I am an abused child
    I hear my past when I am alone
    It scares me sometimes
    I am alone to fight my fears
    I am alone to find the daylight
    I am alone to see who I really am
    I do not want to be alone anymore

  231. Joy
    I call on thee
    Will you not return to my heart?
    In mourning, the sun has set
    Its radiance
    its warm, soft glow
    shines upon me no more
    The flower that was
    that beckoned love
    now cries in wilting
    Where is my sunshine?
    The raindrops I need
    to bloom once more
    To rise up towards the sky
    towards the stars
    Up to the Heavens
    Glorious though I am
    I need your sun
    your rain
    All that you are
    is all I need…to be

  232. After-

    It is in the light of darkness
    The pit of flight
    The second of a darkened slumber’s waking
    In which gravity looses might

    Leaving behind all things trodden
    Leaving heavy hands and eyes
    Leaving touch to the others
    Being lost to sight

    As the hours continue
    For one mind they stop
    All rules dissipated
    Floating aloof, on top

    With out direction to steer
    Or poles to pull
    Or motion to wander
    Sitting in a time warped lull

    Without matter to shape
    Or give place
    Not existing, but present
    Where does the rest find peace?

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