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 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Jennifer DeLong
WITH THE WORDS SHE WROTE
PASSIONATELY WITH HER PEN
YOU CAN FEEL THE INK
CRAWL UPON YOUR SOUL

HER CREATIVE YET HARD LIFE,
BLESSED US WITH HER POEMS
SHE IS WHAT SPIRIT CALLS LIFE

PAIN STRIFE LOVE ABUSED
SHE WILL NOT FALL DOWN
WITH THE STROKES OF THE INK
ITS WRITTEN HER PERSONALLY

LET MY WORDS CONSUME YOU
OPEN YOUR MIND BE NOT AFRAID
DARE TO BE THERE WITH ME

FIND THE PLEASURE
IN POEMS WRITTEN
NAUGHTY & SO DELICIOUS

READ THE STRUGGLES
TOUGH DAYS LONELY NIGHTS
LONGING TO BE LOVED
NEEDING TO BE HEARD

SURVIVING ON THE STROKES
OF MY HAND ONTO PAPER
IS THIS HOW IT ENDS
WRITING IN INK
THE RHYTHM OF MY LIFE
WORDS JUST WORDS WRITTEN

©
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Cné
from head to my toes
you don’t seem to see my flaws
& i love your eyes.
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Cné
If Only...
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Cné
If I could have you for a night
I’d stop the dawn from bringing light
I’d make the stars stay out and play
And make the moon hold back the day

If I could have you in my arms
I’d unleash my southern charms
I’d unlock every fantasy
And be all that you want of me

If I could have you in my bed
With sweet seduction you’d be fed
I’d give you treats and pleasured sighs
And let you taste of sugared thighs

I’d make you glutton of this feast
Your every whim would be released
I’d let you do just what you will
And let your body ******* thrill

I’d bind you up, and make you crave
And tease your sights and make you slave
Then I would let you conquer me
And stake your claim of victory

I’d bathe your body, lick you dry
In covered dreams I’d let you lie
Then gently I would make you wake
My hungry love to satiate

I’d dance before you, undulate
You’d reach for me, I’d hesitate
I’d belly dance before your eyes
Your harem girl, in veiled disguise

My sultan, I’d be bound to do
just everything you’d want me to
I’d let you take me one more time
In candle light, you'd be just mine

Each moment tasting of divine
My every kiss dipped in sublime
My every touch would bring delight
If I had you for just one night
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Megan Sherman
Tell me Love, wouldn't it be great,
If there were no pain to speak of, no bitterness, no hate,
Only love suffice to ignite
A poet's heart to soar, take flight
To dream of wonderful and beautiful things,
Take flight wrapped up in angels wings,
To laugh your heart out and dance in the rain,
To sing away sorrows and forget all your pain,
To live, love and laugh and of sorrows forget,
For life's too short to fill with regret,
No despair to berate, only Love and delight,
That adds colour and sparks to the slow creeping, night,
No need to shoot, to punch, to take aim,
To throw words like poison in to each others brains,
Each accusation canters like a runaway train,
Each one of them is my disdain,
o love, tell me, wouldn't it be divine,
If you could see truth in my own heart like in thine,
No cynical riposte which ties me up in brine,
but to the path of righteousness each word align,
i believe in a god who looks down from above,
who wraps all his children in laughter and love,
i've seen him with my own very eyes,
Soaring and sauntering through majestic skies,
he is most caring and he is most kind,
who plants the healing flower in everyone's minds,
he is the one who will shoulder our pain,
wherever we find dismay and disdain,
raising his voice above the evil throng,
so all on the earth can dance to his song,
when we are down he will send his affection,
and make sure it's received in our direction. xo
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Megan Sherman
Sublime creator, meditator true
In which the cosmic fires brew
Time adores thee and worships thine form
A God of mortal illusions shorn
Clear as sun, and day, and light
Irrepressible desires to take flight
With thee overwhelm the man who perceives
Thine presence, immortal as timeless seas

Fathomless mind, in which eternity contained
From which matter made mountains and wisdom rained
Such wilderness, the dunes of time
Make for an enchanted clime
To love, behold as children do
Their parents, for we dwell deep in you
From ground to sky you are supreme
Paint earth with pallet got from dream
 Feb 2018 A Shuli
Megan Sherman
Oh I imagine magic
Now that spring is there
And flowers wake, buds rumble
Adorn the children's hair
That brightest bloom and tender leaf
Round clockwork change the scene
While bluebird sings on wizened bough
Blissful and serene
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
Climbing on the bus
Not looking forward to this trip
But it meant so much to her  
And how could I predict

That it would be her last hurrah
Before she passed away
Just one year ago marks
The anniversary of that day

It was an annual trip, with her twin
They took to different cities
With a group of old church folks
They called themselves
“The Traveling Gypsies”

As it turned out to be
My last fond memory
Of my mother and her twin
Before they were stripped
Of all their memories

Alzheimer’s was their reward
They gave it quite a fight
Bed ridden in their final days
Until they saw the light

Who's to say how it will end
Or where that place will be
A gutter in the streets of life
Or home where it should be

So as I sit and contemplate
These moments I recount
I think about the road ahead
And how I’ll make it count
My mom and her twin sister both had Alzheimer's. My mom was significantly more progressed than my aunt's. My aunt acted as my mom's caretaker long after we had them both moved to a memory care facility. They both did well there for about 6 months. Then my mom became aggressively depressed and crying all the time. At that time, they both had a bad sinus infection at the same time. My mother recovered but was still crying and complaining she couldn't breathe. However doctors could not find any ailments in her. My aunt ended up getting pneumonia. While in the hospital they discovered and diagnosed her with stage 4 terminal lung cancer. She died 4 months later with the last month being bed ridden, hardly eating until she was nearly only bones and on a breathing machine. My mom and her twin were always connected in the weird twin way ... knowing things between them, beyond normal comprehension. We all believe my mom knew (not in a cognitive way but in her own twin way) before diagnosed that her twin was going to die. None of us expected her to live much longer than her twin. They both had long life forces even crippled with cancer and Alzheimer's. My aunt Lorea (other mother) died Oct. 27, 2016. Up until that point my mother could still walk, talk, eat and recognize me and my siblings. However after she lost her twin she could no longer walk requiring much more individual care. We moved her to a residential home care facility. They worked really hard to try and revive her willingness to live. It wasn't a conscious choice to give up because with Alzheimer's your brain doesn't work right. She lasted less than 3 months after the death of her twin. It was heartbreaking, to say the least, to witness. I rejoice her being reunited with her twin and my father and free of the confinement of Alzheimer's but I'm still working through the finality of it on the earthly side. Growing up as a child of twins is a blessing of having two moms (one being the cool mom ... the mom you could tell anything to .. knowing she would know how to explain it to your real mom in a way you couldn't bring yourself to do) and a sister cousin, my aunt's daughter. I had an older sister (10 years) too. So in my case I had three moms I love dearly. I am grateful to still have my sister.
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
Endearing is the moon tonight
and through its silver glow,
She whispers secrets of the things
that only she could know.

Of lover's trysts on summer nights
of kisses ‘neath her smile,
Of secret murmurs begging "friends"
to stay a little while.

Of sweet caresses cherished
in the fog of memories,
Of moonlit walks in arbors sweet
'neath swaying groves of trees,

Of shadows cast by clasping hands
of hearts that feel desire,
and unrequited love
               that feels like death
                              from friendly fire.

Of promises in passion made,
with no chance to fulfill,
Of loneliness, of happiness,
of parting's bitter pill,

She whispers of the romance,
of the love that's hot and cold,
Like love that loses passion
but sustains us getting old.

She passes in the evening sky
and frolics with the stars,
And leaves this mortal on the porch
to mend life’s wounded scars.

Yet, never does she realize,
the secrets that she'd shared,
Are common knowledge
                         here on earth,
where love has all ensnared.
Writing poetry ‘neath the ever glowing cold full moon tonight, from the rambling thoughts swirling in my head.
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
Moon
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
immersed in the sea
a sphere of passion glitters
as the tide appears
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
Reality (10w)
 Jan 2018 A Shuli
Cné
that’s just the stab
i needed
to live in reality.
Productive Sunday,
hopefully to be followed by
a productive Monday!
Motivated by a sting.
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