will it be harder to let go of or easier to hate? I think I learned how to fly once, but I woke up with a broken leg. There was an entire summer when I searched for poisoned berries and convinced myself I was just keeping everyone else safe. The days only seem long when you are...
Frye in 1932
Do Not Stand By My Grave And Weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's
Another day,another dollar
Another scream,another hollar
Another ***** hitched to her collar
Sometimes I wish that I were "smaller"
I'm so fly,I am a gamer
I can be wilder,I can be tamer
I'm not a trick,we're not the samer
Not until I date a "flamer"
Another night,another date...
Where my mind roams
After the light of my phone dies
Where all my fantasy’s are twisted
By the pain of your betrayal and lies
I wonder what happened
To the love that we once shared
I know that it once blossomed
And found where happiness laired
But now, that is...
people here who have no face
Shapes and fog is all I see and people who want to be set free
Muffled sounds but nothing solid just echoes of something that’s seems quite squalid
Then dancing lights that dart across the cold dark sky,
Is this it? Did I die? Did I hear an angels...
This is a poem written by a teenager with cancer. She wants to see how many people get her poem.
It is quite the poem Please pass it on.
This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.
It was sent by a medical doctor -Make sure to read...
a mask of guilt to hide the blame
to look into eyes of the sane
and tell them your sorry
for all of there pain
when in fact you loved it
you make joy from there rain
take what you want
hide the blame
its not your fault you...
In this moment I don't feel able to write my own stories, but I would like to share a poem that means a lot to me and gave me the strength to look forward in difficult moments of my life.
I dedicate this poem to 2 special persons who entered in my life recently and who became...
i use to love you
but the love is gone
though nothing remains
i cant move on
you never loved me
though you claim you do
but love doesnt break
and try hard to hurt you
love is honest and true
and doesnt long for another
or manipulate its lover
no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf...
you dont call you dont write.
im beginning to think were are playing pretend.
im holding so very tight
to the messages you send
wont admit to myself just yet
that they are vague and fall short.
misgiuding and easy to forget
but theyre my last resort
as i sit here im just...
that day on the beaches. Those beaches made of sand and stone. Sand and stone stacked and pilled to form pillars and perches, Gates and bridges.
sand and stone stacked so high, the watch towers rose from the ground like a rib cage that protected a non beating heart. But than...
I do not resemble your other lovers, my lady
should another give you a cloud
I give you rain
Should he give you a lantern, I
will give you the moon
Should he give you a branch
I will give you the trees
And if another gives you a ship
I shall give you the journey.
No, not i by Bria
Pleasure turns to the pain
lessons learned from the strain
questions burned in my brain..
about whether love is humane
in its touch.
these thoughts are like salmon swimming upstream
in the tears of your deceit.
fighting the current hurt that kills more...
here is the cover to my children's book I hope u like it!
If you would like a copy let me know an I will order $15.00 - $20.00 w shipping
I do have several other books in the works, I have Chapbooks that are available Echo's of Binding Silence and Moonlight of Velvet touch...
Looking at the peaceful setting,
I look up and quickly realize.
That an image is taking shape,
Forming in a rather large size.
It is the shape of a grass dancer,
Grass dancing on the clouds.
Dancing to the beat of the thunder,
I hear his dance steps aloud.
and said 'i love you'
only after sex and six shots
i sipped tea and told my friends about him
they said 'if you're happy' and
knew i was not.
in winter i kissed a girl
who tasted like cigarettes and said
'i love you' all the time but
hurt herself whenever i made mistakes...
look into the clouds there a noble being lies, a being of neither love or hate, a being bound by neither destiny or fate, a being looking for purpose, looking for it's place, in a world that is obsessed by race.
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding,
A highwayman comes riding...
Nature's first green is gold-
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf a flower...
But only so an hour-
Then leaf subsides to leaf-
So Eden sank in grief-
So dawn goes down to day....
No, nothing GOLD can stay.
If I begged this world a death,
A hundred hopes of dread...
Would my faith be held,
In hands of Greed and blasphemy...
Spoken with fables from the naked eyes,
Of hopeful misdirected lies...
I die softly, in lonely arms
Side by side with fools and idiots
Over and over....A...
that covers me
black as the pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
my head is bloody and unbowed.
Beyond the place of wrath and tears...
for the sun, clouds making faces at the mountain teasingly making fun, the mountain erupts into a crying fit of rage, tears of blood spewing and running down it's sides, the moon rises and gives the mountain comfort, saying stop crying little mountain the clouds have gone away...
You smell like tinted rum
your color makes me worried
for I cannot run
hold me down
Yet your warmth is
you bring color from my cheeks
a tribe of specks and fleets
your spindled gentle down
easily sets me down
As I slowly die
Tears rundown and fly...
thinking about my headstone but...if I were to die young, I would want this written on my grave:
I balanced all, brought all to mind
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
It's from a poem...I don't...
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
Granddad and Rosie
Grandad and Rosie
never did like each other,
but Grandma loved them both.
From the day Fred Jr.
brought her home
and introduced her
as his new bride,
Grandad and Rosie
didn't like each other.
But twice a year,
Grandma would bring out
the old Kodak, Brownie
I have for a very long time been an admirer of Poetry,this classic by William Wordsworth must be one of the few all time classics.What draws me to this Poem is my adoration for Englands beautiful Lake District,Wordsworths homeland.I have followed in his footsteps so many times...
He Makes Me
Eyes -his- like getting lost in a mahogany forest, never wanting to be found...
Covered by an ice shield: to hide, to protect, to capture...
Oh how they glisten, they gleam, they entice, how much they hold- oh, how much they hold...
They break me.
He loves his music.
He can't sleep nor go, without it.
He plays it at night, he plays it at daylight.
He can't get enough of his music.
His mind, is full of memories.
Being two lovers, playing, dancing, and enjoying, with each other.
When he sleeps his eyes, sees the past of...
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky .
But a BIRD that stalks down his
Can seldom see through his bars of
His wings are clipped and his...
The composure of my soul is harmonized by that of yours,
Our bodies meet in euphoria, behind closed doors,
Your touch sends me into a world of comfort, my problems then erased,
though only so temporary, so finite, I only get a taste,
And with that taste I get a craving that is...
bright and center...I am in the eyesight of her majesty, the Queen Devil...ascending from a shameful grace...she catapults and encases me like a mouse in a maze...A Wicked Vampire's Smilerazor sharp teethshe growls and snarlslicking her lips...I am her obsession...I am her Envy...
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing wooly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb who...
emergesAnd unfolds its graceful wings,A marriage grows and it developsWith the love each partner brings.Your flight through life togetherIs what you make it, so reach highSpread your wings and learn to soarAs if with wings of a butterflyShare together life’s great...
Cold as stone, wearing thinner.
He stands there in his suit and tie,
Must remember not to cry.
Whispering 'how was your day',
Fists reply, only thing to say.
Hidden tears tremble down,
She never lets him see her frown.
Looking at him from great length,
Now reminded of...
.. my queen... when I'm alone at night I hear her calling for me. .. she needs me... I need her. .. They tell me we cannot be together. .. it's wrong for us both. .. but we are bound. .. We are tied... I cannot leave my maiden for she helps me to breath. .. she stops my thoughts...
Who walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence
Upon a crooked stile
He bought a crooked cat
Who caught a crooked mouse
And they all lived together
In a crooked little house."
I'm not sure who to credit this rhyme; does anyone know the name of the true author?
What are you made of, my heart?
Sometimes so light,
You lift me to the sky.
Sometimes so heavy,
You bring me crashing down.
Sometimes so vast,
You could take the whole world in.
Sometimes so small,
I can't even love myself.
Sometimes so soft,
I want to warp myself in you...
I didn't for a long time enjoy poetry. I liked it when I saw something that resonated, but it wasn't until recently that I became enamored with it - seeking out new works. This one came across my desk lately and it clicked . . . The Rain Song, by Klaus GrothPour, rain, pour...