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 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
My Request
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
Allow me...

To be your warm bath at the end of a hard day
     And wash away all of your stress.

To be the long exhale from your tightly held breath
     And relieve your mind for good rest

Permit me...

To be the light that accompanies you along your path
     And brightens your darkest days.

To be the drink that quenches your body's needs
     And the source for all that you crave.

Give me permission...
    
To be... Your dreams in reality...

                     Your fantasy in the flesh...
    
                          Your Good to the last drop...

                               Providing pleasure non-stop...Girl


Let me be this for you babe



© Tina Thompson
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
I'm staring at this clock
     Wishing I could turn back time.
To...Let's say...the summer
     Of Nineteen Eighty Nine.

I just remembered something
     I frankly failed to do.
And should have done at the time
     I first thought to Kiss you.

What could have, that simple kiss become?
That simple kiss, that went left undone
A simple kiss from me to you
Just a simple kiss... or... two.

I am staring at the hands on this clock
     Dreaming of how life could have been.
If only I garnered the courage
     To Kiss you back then.


© Tina Thompson
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
Haunt Me
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
I want to be haunted by you.

Want you to...

Sit down beside me, 'til I feel your presence in the air.
Watch me remember you, So you can see I still care.
Caress me in passing, leaving chills on my spine.
Visit my dreams, make me believe that you're still mine.

     Haunt me daily, and keep this loneliness at bay.
     Haunt me nightly, until my desire goes away.

I want to be haunted by you, so I can ignore the pain
Haunt me please, so I can pretend that nothing has changed.



© Tina Thompson
 Jan 2013 Bean
Michael W Noland
Merely a silhouette with its head cocked to the side, arms reaching out, stretching through the majesty in knives, and stabbing spots into my eyes.

I rise to burn
Feel to learn
For the better of my vendettas
Steady hands
On humbled umbrellas
Of sedatives
And other derivatives
Of my dissatisfaction

In lacking patience , I repaint the pavement, and face it after lacing spaceships with the enslavement of my basements, and place it in my heart.

Spiraling in slimy things
In lucid dreams
I'm asleep
Walking amongst the dead
My demon brings
The corpse of kings
In sheets
From battered beds

I am said
To have slithered
With the best of men
Drained and bested
In the molested
Ingesting of entire
Settlements
Not to mourn
As i warned
In subtle hints
Most would whimper
As i rinsed my hands
Of this
Varmint ****
And moved on with it

I get what i got coming
As im drumming
The anthem
And humming
With phantoms
Tandem
To alchemical
Dreams
Singing
In romantic strings
Scrutinizing
My advertising
Of fiends
Leaning in
To scream
I awake unclean
Seeing
Differently
Than before
 Jan 2013 Bean
kdpgrahi
The Dawn
 Jan 2013 Bean
kdpgrahi
When dawn unfolds on a town's older region
Sunrise crawls across cobblestone streets
Autumn break speaks its opening greets
I say an urban dream world comes into vision

I walk these archaic avenues alone
Following the lead of my oversized shadow
Astringent cold awakens my face and neck
While a glinting sun slowly pats my back

Past gothic fencing and cream-colored brick
Concrete bridges veined with vines
Damp shades of wood stare from the park
A fountain shines at the heart of the square

The muffled click of claws against curb
From blackbirds prodding the lower scenery
Shares the air with benevolent fumes
Of bakery bread and chimney smoke

Porch lights fading in soft succession
The radius of light extends its exuberance
Reflections expanding in dark shop windows
The first opened door soon taints the silence

In time the usual routines exude
An old piece of map slowly stirs to life
Another new chapter from torn, yellowed pages
Is resurrected into a tangible shape & stripe
kdpgrahi@2011
 Jan 2013 Bean
Symone See
A soul that has a body
A mind that has a face
Feet have left a trail
A path I've come to chase
The distance that I tred
Behind seems an unfair race
Yet once and twice again
I fail to keep up pace
Is this the fate I bedded?
The choice is right nor wrong?
Sinking, my feet graze the core
Preluding a swanish song
In the wake of my good sense
I feel as I've had none
Rewriting logs that should have been
Yet all is said and done
A chance. I see. I jump.
I make the same mistake
I fall. I cry. I'm crawling.
Again. No sense I make.
 Jan 2013 Bean
JK Cabresos
You are my superhero
even when I was just a child,
you always protect me,
you always wipe my tears away
whenever I cry,
and whisper:
"It's okay darling, I'm here,
no one's gonna hurt you now."

You'd fly me to skies
if everybody chose to pull me down,
you'd lend me peace of mind
when I am in troubles
you guide me in times
I was reading between the lines;
you let me see the world
and taught me how to walk
every distance I should travel,
the roads may seem so difficult,
I'm not afraid anymore
for you gave me the courage.

You to me are everything
and I admit the fact
that I'd be lost
without your presence,
I'm sorry if I may hurt you
through my actions;
but one thing for sure
is that I love you so much,
and don't you worry
if you're getting old
for to me you're still
the most beautiful woman,
I have ever known.
Thank you for
the laugh,
the joy,
the guidance,
the love
and for everything Mother.


Happy Mother's Day!


© 2012
 Jan 2013 Bean
Dorothy A
This is not a poem. It is not really a story, either. I don't really need to classify it in a category, I suppose.  I simply say it is an expression of respect, gratitude, and love for my mom...like a living eulogy.

Recently losing a loved one in the family to a tragic death, I am realizing how vital it is to tell my mother how much she means to me. No, it doesn't have to be Mother's Day for this to take place, nor her birthday (although she just turned 76 on November 2nd). The reason is so much more than the norm, than the expected. It is an urging need within to express my emotions, my creativity—before I forget—before the emotions fade, or I talk myself out of doing what I think is right.  

I fear I might start to take things for granted again and never decide to actually do it.

You see, when my father died nearly eight years ago, it was at his funeral that I spoke the kind, fond words in a eulogy that I wrote for him. It was nice to say it at church to an attentive audience who heard how I lovingly felt about my dad. It seemed easier, safer to my comfort zone, not to speak such things to him while he was alive. Sure, my father knew I cared. I looked after him when he was dying, and we had a great bond during that time. But I would love to turn back time, and tell him face-to-face. I cannot, but I wish to say these things to my mother now, while she is still here—and not simply in her memory someday—writing it all down before I  forget what I want to her to hear and read for herself.

It is easy to fight with someone you love, and to find fault. Most children have conflicts with their parents. Often, some of us want to place blame and be angry, even if it is momentary. It is another thing to stop and think of what our lives mean, and to remember those who enhanced us, shaped us, and taught us. Sometimes, we learn the hard way. We may learn by fire—I often have—for it is the intense stuff that shapes us, develops us, and refines us into who we are. If we are keenly aware about it, that is, and use everything for our good.

My mother taught me many good things. I want to say them in the here-and-now, not just to memorialize her some day in the future….so here it goes.

This is what my mother taught me:

She taught me that hate is a sin. Yes, a sin, for my mother realized that hate is a strong emotion, a destructive one that is not pleasing to God. She thinks it is simply wrong—no matter what.  As a child, this wasn't always what I wanted to hear—if I was passionately, downright, furious with someone—but I surely have grown up and now understand that she was absolutely right. No matter how justified I can feel, the wisdom of it keeps tugging at my heart. As I have heard in a quote before: Hate is easy, love takes courage.  I have my mother to thank for instilling such principles in my childhood. They perpetually instruct me, speak to me and to remind me throughout my years.

My mother taught me to be fair and even in life, and she never played favorites among me and my two older brothers. If it can be helped, she believed that nobody should get more than the other, or less. As the oldest of 13 children, she understood that proper distribution is important, and nobody should be left out

My mother taught me to be honest. I knew that she did not like to lie to anyone for her own gain or anyone else’s.  If I wanted her to lie for me, I saw that she was against it and quite uncomfortable about going against her belief. That is something that I learned to uphold as a virtue, too, applying to my life.

Even the little things, she taught me. "Cover your mouth when you yawn....Answer people when they address you” all have merit. (She still is in the correcting business on stuff like that!)

She has written a little bit of poetry and sketched a bit, too. Her poetry was simple and sweet, and she would write stuff in my birthday cards a few times. She even wrote poetry in her father's card one time, and he thought it was beautiful. It was not often that she heard such compliments.  I guess that is where I get my love of poetry, story writing, painting and drawing—from her. And I think, perhaps, my mom got her interest in sketching from her father.

My mom had and still has a beautiful singing voice. Many in the family told me so. She certainly could have been a professional singer—she was that good. Some of her siblings could sing well, too, and her mother. It used to drive my crazy that she would hum to songs in commercials or start singing when music played in the movies or on TV. "Do you have to sing?" I would ask. But I later realized how fun singing was, and my mom was surprised that I actually liked to do it, too. I think she was convinced that I held an anti-singing stance in life. If only I could sing half as good as she ever did, and appreciated it more.

My mother taught me not to waste, not food or practical things. And although I used to think she was way too much like that, I now understand it is a value to use money wisely. My mom certainly appreciated the value of a dollar, growing up in a large, impoverished family. She certainly did not come from the "throwaway generation".

My mom also taught me generosity. She has been this way with her children, helping us out financially, if needed. My father was that way, too, later in life. It was a blessing to know my mom and dad were there for me, and I could be there for them. They were adamant about helping others if they helped you. And surely that can be expanded to helping those who cannot help themselves, something I am passionate about.

My mother knew how to laugh and have a playful side to her. Even with her physical ailments—her bad back, her arthritis—my mom has maintained her humor. My dad did, too. There was plenty to be serious about. Yet they both had a silly side to them, and those kinds of qualities remind me that growing older does not mean that one has to lose that childlike part that keeps us young and less heavy-laden. My mom just has always had a more bubbly personality. Starting out in life as very shy and introverted—more like my dad—I also learned to be a bit more like her.

Lastly, my mother taught me about faith, that there is a God. I believed in God as a little girl. Later, my mom and I had our share of fighting and bickering about the importance of going to church.. As a teenager, I had major doubts and disbelief, and stayed away from such practices. But there was a foundation laid down before me that I later desired to lean on and thirst for. Although our religious paths differed for good, my mother and I both are Christians, and my mom never lost or questioned her faith like I often have. I am now glad to be able to say that I have faith in God, and it is so necessary for me.

Yes, my mother taught me many things for which I am grateful for.
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
Mommy
 Jan 2013 Bean
TinaMarie
You taught me to believe in myself
     And encouraged me to soar.
You protected me from harm, keeping
     Enemies away with your roar.
You raised me to feel wealthy
     Even though we were poor.
You showed me God's grace by
     Always making room for one more.

You are the personification of unconditional love
     The epitome of selflessness.
You are the embodiment of true beauty
     The essence of graciousness.

You are my Mother
              my Motivator
             my Strength
    And my Friend.




© Tina Thompson
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