You remember them nights?
Use too kiss ya lips..
use to touch your spots
"Baby just like this"
Damn look them hips..
sensation becoming to real
Seducing ya mind, I think things bout to get real
Do you feel how I feel?
Is this just an act?
Will you make me numb, leave... than never comeback?
My head spinning in circles..
How does she do this?
I should've seen it coming...this woman's bluff I missed
Imma charge her mound
Give her all the pitches
Knock her lights out
Flip off all the switches
Protection a must
When you encounter a woman in lust
"Baby oh fuh..."
Shh baby please calm down
You gunna wake the neighbors
If the feeling to good
Let my neck be ya new favorite flavor
She starts to bite as I start to grab
We moving slow to the track
"Baby just like that"
Loving like she the one
What have I become...
Her body produces novacane
Girl, I'm about to go numb
She pulls me in close, continues to ride the beat
I told her "baby not yet"
She replies "you gon remember me"
Toes curling on my feet
Suddenly the moment comes...to an end
She slowly kisses my lips and whispers
"You'll never have this again"
Perpetual bliss bleeds down his skin. Bright eyes secrete a knowing glow. His aura produces a child's grin. His spirit soars above the fire below.
He takes on the bullets of angry words. Rueful laughter tries to shrink his heart. They rip his essence with claws like birds. Sturdy he stands when the pain starts to smart.
With a smile he side steps the herd. He turns to watch as they reach the cliff. Their different worlds separated by a line that's blurred. They plunge into darkness on a burning skiff.
Remember days that were simple,
nothing to do but pop a pimple.
Graduating from high school,
everyone thinking the're so cool.
Going on a first date,
worrying about being overweight.
Having sex for the first time,
never called again, what a slime.
Driving in your first car,
partying like a rock star.
Then it's off to college,
beer and sex produces knowledge.
Some go off to the military,
having friends that are imaginary.
Then a job or even a career,
not a worry, not a fear.
Future so bright, must wear shades,
life becoming more like charades.
Get married and have a baby,
then the spouse always says maybe.
Start fooling around with a neighbor,
snorting coke on a piece of paper.
Life never becomes what's expected,
family and friends becoming neglected.
Now divorced and feeling alone,
life spiraling like a cyclone.
Drug abuse got out of control,
in jail waiting for parole.
Never again seeing that child,
when first born you cried and smiled.
Can't find work and being broke,
when did life become a joke.
Wishing life went back to simple,
when toughest choice was what color sprinkle.
If had to do all over again,
You'd believe in god and say amen.
Not funny but this was written on 4-15-12 exactly a year to the day
I re-post this for our last battel field Boston these words are nothing but as you read you will find the one who lives in them and He is everything all the comfort and hope we can ever want
Sorry if this seems at first confusing all my friends on facebook and Redbubble will get it right away as
I asked them to use their love and caring to pray for my hurting distraught friend at her time of great
Loss if you are hurting it will help to at least a degree or it will help at times of future loss
Well dear sweet precious Addy this brutal day is at an end I hope you sleep well I prayed for you and
Kathleen’s son way into the night at first I was terrified you weren’t going to get my post and you would
Enter as I told my wife you would enter the lion’s den the lions all have familiar names pain sorrow
Grief and many others and they maul with cruelty without pity I didn’t want ether of you to take those
Fatal steps without your armor not to be to descriptive but reality waited with a blast I tried to diffuse the
Coffin the grave and headstone never could I do it immeasurably my fight for you could only be in the
Smallest victories comfort mined at times like these is like uranium white silver metallic with almost
A power that can’t be harnessed the same as loss of a love one what blow back again the same as a
Nuclear test one problem you don’t get the protection of a bunker no just suffer the blast in your
Body mind and heart you are stepping in to the shoes the same as young woman who lost her father
That as she described him he was the light of her life our paths crossed on line when I thought she
Was a classmate’s wife her story of her dad touched me deeply I’m going to add that piece here plus
The comfort I tried to write for my friend that was more like my brother when his mother died I will
Include a small background so it wail make more sense let me add those here the first was Fathers story
What you read here is her hearts knowing and the undying love that it created and that continues.
His precious hands were removed from earthly things. A great and gentle man his greatest possessions his family. I only knew him from his business and the fact that one of his beautiful daughters married a classmate of mine. Then much later by error I made acquaintance with another of his daughters you can tell a lot about a person from the actions of his children. She told me that he passed away and that he was the light of her life. With God’s help I would like to pay tribute to him.
A light did shine it was magnified by the eyes of a daughters love. He took his journey he went above his ship was the care they shared he the captain made the course straight and true he didn’t slow her run until heaven was in plain view they would have cheered but it hard to see through eyes filled with tears. All the wonderful years seemed to be eclipsed by the sickness that came it seemed an angry wind from their lives this stalwart precious soul it did rend. It left the greatest empty hole it took the longest time to fill and then with the sweetest cooing the grand babies made the hole enlivened not the terrible twisted knot that had the family bound but without being able to speak a word grampaw was found. If you looked in their faces his smile is bound to bundles only heaven can design. I’m not saying they asked him how to work these miracles yet this is true he watched with intense interest and was happiest since his departure he knew that back through time and space healing was for all time secured. Their stoic acceptance could now be laid aside the family could run in softer climes know the sweetest of times that were thought to be forever gone.
Love spills down from heights distance is only on a map in peoples heart its no farther than the end of your finger tips. Images are so strong not because we have great minds it’s easy to make these rich finds when your love and its power shake the foundation of the universe is it not said that love is the greatest power. Oh how so many in dark shadows cower when they possess the power to ignite the world on fire. From heart to heart it does dart the wildness of the spirit is told blotting out all of the cold. Yes there is winter but also the spring. The light spoken of is no longer beholden to earth and so the family is free by love he joins his light to the Christ the all glowing light
Life force by haldenton
To all who have lost heroes
This was written to Eva’s son Bill to help him at her passing. With this writing I took him back thirty years when he was in the truck wreck that killed his dad his recovery saved his mother I hoped by him being reminded of that now it would help him the same way.
Tribute to Eva Wafford Life force
For all who lost heroes
In your soul freshly the wind of death did blow.
Cold eerie shadows marched against your tender broken heart.
What defense could this onslaught repel agony’s volcanic flow.
Ominous well filled with grief from this weight no relief.
The child the grim reaper did spare.
Only after leaving the body bruised and in despair.
From this broken body drops of mercy started to make the mother well.
I held your trembling frame today this memory rings sweet as a bell.
Streets and houses without number fill the land.
I can’t help when I look to recall memories grand.
Now they are but dreams that ache in the night.
Images that over ride the present in their glory I take flight.
Brush aside caution raise your voice as a trumpet.
They live only in yesterdays even so indelibly they wrote their stories.
We hold our children we cling only a moment as mist on the summit.
Your life Eva continues to build the next generation.
Your voice is heard in the breath of your grandchildren.
Wonders they spin from golden thread, now that you have gone ahead.
Your spirit glows in the fire that warms the house against winter.
Summer’s cool breeze not sent by chance she doe’s tenderly incite.
Death silently said what I already knew.
To me you were always immortal you were bigger than life
Many were the days when the wind of storms blew
those who know us feel the calm; this is only your life on review
Old Abe said it right ‘It is right and fitting that we speak these words here to honor these lives so honorably lived. I can say that about Jim and this also he was a prince among men if I do this right the words will convince you.
He had a gentle way and nature he spoke softly but a softness that flowed to you like ribbons that bounced in a little girl’s hair how delightful. He should have been a doctor his hands his mannerism was ideal for that job. I guess thats what made him stand out so strongly like a gentle calm breeze if you came in a panic his soul would float down around you like a parachute first it safely brings you from great anxiety and exaltation to a graceful landing then gently envelops you in its silken embrace. I had this privilege of watching him inter act with his wife as I said and truly he was a prince and I was the beggar that benefitted richly from the sidelines God knew my needs.
He was called from this life but all the days he filled before his home going are the sustaining force noticeably seen felt with keen awareness you know that a gentleman passed this way. In the lives left behind there is a blend of sadness and astonishment you realize you are looking at the work of a master workman who left behind a tightly and perfectly fitted family this unfortunately is sadly rare in this society that boast of its accomplishments.
As a friend his breadth and depth was sufficient you weren’t a burden he had a way of dispelling trouble making you understand with wisdom and unerring judgment then with ease you could extricate yourself from the problem. His heavenly father filled him with tenderness it stood him and others well in a somewhat crabby world. If you’re pressed and anxious about life take from this life expressed. A portion of the good will you need use it as a defense Jim couldn’t be everywhere but God saw fit to make an original that you can duplicate benefit from and be a part of his ongoing legacy. Thanks friend for a life lived well
Well hurting one in the earlier part of a writing I said I am God’s battle field reporter and medic
These writings are my bandages and gauze God gave me great big hands and I fill them with
Salve with all the love I know I gently apply it to your broken hurting wounds mingle it with
Tears that are not always mine alone but His mixes with mine one day He will abolish all tears
Until then this is our duty your heart we hear and we can do no other God bless you Addy and
Your nephew and all others who find this helpful
Wonder for all the hurts
First I knelt just to see my reflection then the depths started to reveal first the flowing thoughts were
Restrained and then a bubbling seemed to dislodge from greater depths hard truths churned with
Violent twisting but the motion made it impossible to turn away there were great large white clouds
From depths then even above the pool they rose fourteen stories high the sensation was you were
Standing outside clear air intoxicating views the pulse of many were throbbing in your ears their
Thoughts and dreams were known and their sorrows were weights that pulled you from the heights
It was a colossal game of tag and you were it first reaction fear then the appearance of bundled gifts
Broke down the fear it was promise in different sizes that met the required needs it was like a divine
Warehouse had just made a delivery there were cards with names and writing gave clarification tears
And smiles intermingled then the outer knowing postulated the difficulty the puzzle an enormous
Streaming that was now congested and it was beginning a vortex all was understood now human thought
With doubts was pulling the answer into this destructive hole where was one to find the lever to stop
This action that would disallow was the answer to touch the water bring the finger to my lips possibly
A blazing thought would occur that would strike the mind no all that brought was words that had the
Letters jumbled they made no sense unless there is a special book that is alive in it the letters and words
Are already set but they cover every act in the human condition the broken can pour over the pages
You won’t find thorns to repel your efforts there are thorns but they will speak and assuage your hurts
At the most basic and needed levels the points of your hurts will begin to dissolve from your eyes to
Your mind this inward rush and power will dislodge even spears driven deep by enemies carried for
Years you searched in vain over sad and lonely paths and days now you journey is at an end thorns of
Suffering for another produces profound power and mercy go in peace beloved one another bears your
Burden now maybe words cut you at depths you can’t even identify what if there is an antidote in a
Book you pick it up with trembling hands your body tingles from the knowledge that this is ancient texts
It will have a revival of appreciation in this world of texting but with gentle fingers and eyes that glow
With respect as you see the wisdom and the love cannot be denied you leave the world you know and
With total abandonment you swim in this sea of words until the your tears spill on this rich world of
Words those cruel barbed words that pierced tender skin and have bled internally all of these years
Begin to dissolve with stories and accounts of betrayals then the swells love and mercy you read about
Restoration not always found after apologies are given but the teaching of forgiveness strikes a cord
You have been made free from your prison the tangles of life are great as a great black cloud it hangs
Over head many are its troubles this isn’t mild but the disruptive made to strike and pierce deep the
Hidden that steals the morning blessing while other feast your hunger and unrest only enlarges a
Tormenting unquenchable fire a slow burn this is a forest being burned at the thermal level the hidden
Roots a slow process destructive but not so visible agony torture I have seen men crawl in war or fire
Fighting that where all else is lost you will know greater thrills than any other living soul with the
Desperate and those heavy burdened unable to stand a word will flow it puts out fires and gives
The luxurious buoyancy heaviness changed to joy the bouncy laughter every outward blast attack
The enemy launches is within its pages they are repelled overwhelmed by love you suffer unduly
If you don’t hold this fortress this informative book of stratagems that have made everyone a victor
Who has ever found themselves at their wits end no place on earth has a contingency plan though it
Will make the greatest claims all is just empty air when life as it too often does sucks the very air of life
Out we practically are unconscious but this help this rescue is activated by one name it’s not just a book
But the word is a person what a pool you will find what a reflection will engage you beyond your hope
To imagine just say Jesus all will be total peace your heart will know no more sorrow peace will surpass
Sorrow love will disallow the specter that was once a constant it will disappear it will return to the
Darkness from which it came stand in this newness totally free abide by still waters as the good
Sheppard stands by bless you
This land void of devotion gone is the church steeples.
Replaced by voices and shadows of drug dealers on each corner.
Now they are the keepers, lost cities, death stalks its peoples.
Nothing is sacred in this polluted and diffused land.
No longer hallowed be thy name, it’s as if he never came.
Forgotten is any standard of moral excellence.
The once high ideals only represent a fool’s parlance.
Man declares I throw off these restraints only to find darker chains.
The book that once guided this great land.
We now betray with each waking day.
Our hearts and mind it did ignite, now it’s word we can’t stand.
Powerless and feeble we stumble, anxious ever moment.
Just to remember is not enough, best confess our pride.
Make sacrifice with our lips, to burn on altars on high.
There is a short season for all to make amends to regain our stride.
March on to glory with it burning on the inside.
You don’t have to be astute in business to see the sound investment.
Bring your poverty of spirit leave with the riches of his last testament.
It offers the greatest rate of exchange.
Light for darkness, life for death, selfless love for selfishness.
Streaks of Jefferson
In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the
Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern
Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the
Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a
Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it
For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes
To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny
Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country
More or Less
Monsters or Addictions,
the most abstract threat to your life .
However, we choose to take pleasure
in plastic sliding down our throats
and blades creating patterns on our skin.
The spirit would rather feel pain and
than love and a sense of being.
Our addictions are not the villians in our story,
not a foil in literature.
They momentarily make us stronger,
but for eternity weaken us.
There are experiences you can have without
scaring or shallowing.
You are no worse than those laughing about the flowers
or singing out in real pain.
Your purpose is not to fix the visuals
but to adapt to them, take joy,
in the permanents.
And may you be one that produces
and uncommon tongue through lips.
Because you are worthy
your past entails
and your future deems.
Be present in your present,
do not watch others' dance,
you will get heavy eyes.
The pitfall in addiction is being a supporting character in your
because you choose to fade
in and out of memories
to never make an impression.
coming up only to breathe
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I'm so tired of romantic love poems.
Fuck all the fancy ways you've found to express your love for yet another one.
As if longer words bring more meaning to hollow thoughts and innocent intention.
Fuck how genuine you think you can sound
without letting the cracks show through.
If the only thing that produces something
is coated in department store cosmetics,
does that make it more beautiful?
And for those who flaunt their cracks like cardboard flags in the "I think I have manic depression" wind,
I'm going to bed.
The distance, oh, it cries to me
For nearness produces nothing but static;
White lies that die in cut nerves
Or better, truth that lies in scorned skin
Burnt, putrefied nightmares of dreams past
And now, nothing but hurt
And futures broke by past false euphoria
12am when you're sitting alone in the bathtub as frothy white bubbles rise all around you, ever so softly and gently crooning the notes to the rhythm in which your heart beats and your tears flow.
It's the times you push air out of your diaphragm and form your lips around words that for a moment,
make you feel better just a bit better about being alive-
It is comforting to produce music that will float beautifully in the broken air of this desperate world.
And singing with another person is one of the most profound emotional connections you can make with a fellow human. Your voices swirl, mix, and intertwine, in the air, unnerving in the way they so completely assimilate into each other.
A voice carries little pieces of you- ones that you inserted into the notes as they left your throat
And when that meets another's... You feel your stomach twinge.
Because for 2 minutes or so, your souls are connected.
Strange, isn't it?
Singing is standing in the acoustically glorious shower for 45 minutes listening to your sorrowful or joyful or nostalgic peals echo around the marble tiles and wondering, "Why the hell haven't I recorded an album yet?"
But it's also rejecting your friend's entreaties at sleepovers
"Come on! Sing! You're amazing!" Insisting that you are terrible.
Singing is being finally being forced to the front of the room after minutes upon minutes of badgering, submitting to one verse of your favorite song, you open your mouth and let the melodies flow out, terrified-
Feeling as if you are presenting your insides for inspection.
A sense of relief comes with the hush that descends upon your chatty friends
At least they’re not laughing
The song runs its course along with your courage,
And you return to your seat,
Ignoring complements that slide off you like raindrops on an umbrella.
Your heart bounces around the wall of your sternum,
fueled by throes of pride and embarrassment, almost in equal measure.
But most of all,
Signing is simply another way to let the you-infused air that permeates your soul and keeps it breathing
Spend more time out of the confines of your self-consciousness.
To let it linger produces stagnation.
Stagnation means finding release in other areas which means drugs and alcohol and creepy men in dark corners and eventually working the pole on Tuesday nights.
I would rather just sit in my warm bathtub
and belt my trembling little Soprano
heart out to Bohemian Rhapsody.
8 million people crammed into 302 square miles
bump into each other every day and don’t say a single word.
Countless stories collide every moment in this city of stone
but all we remember
is the unshaven hipster who steals our seat on the subway.
Sometimes I stare out at black and can’t help but see a thousand pictures:
The tales of loneliness in the most crowded city in America.
The chance to find someone who savors your smile.
The hum of bright dreams hanging in city smoke
like the lost souls of all of the insects who ever lived.
I ache to someday hold invaluable pieces of glossy paper--
Future photographs torn and browning, wrinkled
like the hands that hold them, cracked and soft and full of love.
I dream of future recollection, of the chance to look back on all that hasn’t happened yet.
The night sky I examine produces only pictures of you.
I long to be the man who lived through it all, through rain and fire and blood
with a full heart and a twinkle in his eye
reserved for you like the empty space I create in my sleep.
The man who did not let this cold city make him hard, the man who remembered that
There are over 1700 parks in New York City, 843 acres boiling with emerald beauty
in a city of smog.
That there is a woman who shines like all those beautiful autumn trees on top of stone.
If I were Times Square and Rockefeller Center,
she is Central Park. And Bryant. And Battery. And Washington Square.
She is all the green among the gray.
Each day she is growing; spilling light and love
and grassy hills onto the crumbled grayness inside me.
I cannot wait until she covers me,
Until I can look back and never remember my life without her in it.
Until she steals away my desperate need to dream.
One day I will open my blinds, stare at the night sky
and see only stars.