those sounds you make
with air and your voice box,
they're all made for me.
the words...that's what you call them.

when you pen down these words for me,
you're knitting my clothes:
black thread
embroidered on white.
always the same always so different.

that's how everyone gets to know me:
with your name, (always) the right fit
like a shoe that goes with every dress

I am the soul of all your creations
that part of your soul
that resides in white
I am all that energy that has bled from you
I am your soul - your soul is in me

I dwell in the blood that sweats through your pores.
I am the thrum of havoc in your veins.
I am the reason your heart beats.
it beats to my name.
you're mine.
you will never forget me.

I am your arrogance
I am the reason butterflies flutter
I am truth, I am redemption
I am lies and smiles
and that story you ache to write...

I am alive in the human touch
that keeps you hurting healing bleeding
tumbling in pain agony hate
through the impossibilities of your humanity.
I give you strength warmth courage tolerance
to go on,
to keep on living
and to keep me alive...

I draw life
from that
weird goofy and frankly whacked out part
of your mind
that thinks
I can talk to you

like

at
this
very
moment...

It's a confusing puzzle,
But still holds true:
You can't live with me;
I can't live without you.

Life is but a journey,
I chose to go through with you;
But now that you won't have me,
It's hard for me to continue.

Fate is a bitter cruel harpy,
With her sisters she conspires
For the death of my Love,
As your Love for me transpires!

Hope is a painful therapy,
It burns while nursing Time's stabs;
But the scars strengthen Experience,
As it assists to keep Reason's tabs.

Love and Reason are antithesis,
That can't co-exist;
But their affinity is such
That to be together they persist.

Perfection in Love is when
There is room for Reason;
But when Reason and Logic court,
Love calls it Treason!

Love is unfair and immature,
And still as pure as a dove;
But there's no use of Reason,
With the death of Love.

This poem is an analogy:
Which in life stands true;
It's no use of me loving you,
If there's no hope for you to love me too.

This world feels
So foreign to me;
Though I was born in it,
It doesn't feel a part of me.

Give me a reason:
Good enough to stop and see,
What, through optimism,
This world could be.

Tell me of happiness,
And tell me of delight:
That could shine through this darkness,
Like a heavenly light.

Talk to me of love;
And of its virtuous beauty:
That can be felt through jealousy,
And not be borne like a duty.

Speak of the truth,
That guides me through falsehood;
That tells me how life is worth living,
And the living are worth some good.

Remind me of ignorance:
How blissful a mind in its presence can be;
And tell me how imagination,
Can overrule reality.

I ask this not for luxury,
But rather, out of necessity:
For my life has lost its meaning,
And with it, its integrity.

So, this world,
It feels so alien to me;
Though I was born in it,
It doesn't feel a part of me.

a life taken
a life broken
a life lost (say forgotten)
a life begins and ends, never lived

no recognition
no words of dear ones

bombings
silent screams
voices flattened in the mud - ash
(loud ones heard by none)

wars
marching or killing
sometimes both together
(mass graves no burials no rites)

revolutions
burning homes buildings towers
(men women children infants)

freedom is the prize.
****** is the price.

why did no one stop?
all life is sacred.
still, time marches on,
blood up to it's knees.

more destruction
more violence, their excuse?
peace honor religion opinions?

rallies of hate
against voices of love.
barbarians
in the age of civility...

an ache begins in the seeing heart
why did no one stop?

the pain of knowledge chokes on tears
why haven't they stopped yet?

Writhing on the ground,
Battling for every breath;
She cried for the end:
But in vain, it wasn't yet time for death.

She sat outside in the blackness,
Begging for some flame;
Scared of the dark, she screamed:
But in vain, no comfort ever came.

She felt her fingers tremble in the cold,
And pleaded for some heat;
She gasped, as frost froze her to ice:
But in vain, her heart just ceased to beat.

She came here alone,
And that's how she left;
She cried for someone to save her:
But in vain, she lost her innocence to theft.

She never knew of hatred,
Still, in ignorance, it's what she felt;
She never knew of forgiveness,
But with the relief of death, all her fury began to melt.

She felt her end approaching,
Before it came at the break of dawn;
She stretched towards the rising sun,
And without another sound, she was gone.

There is a certain beauty to watching the leaves fall
And the trees bare branches
How they appear tangled together
With the comforting embrace of opportunity to hold
Life's cycle before my eyes
And the human experience-
Of resistance
Of refusal to acknowledge-
Ignorance
Sooner than later
Far too soon
I will no longer be grated the feeling of the bitter cold
So even it
I relish in


(C) Tiffanie Doro

A soft complex-
A beautiful face
Catches the eyes
But a beautiful mind captivates-
substance to adore
Millions of beautiful people are among us
Attraction is only a fraction of the equation
It's the inner workings that no other can bring which holds us

(C) Tiffanie Doro