Why is the poetry section at the bookstore
So small?
We're the misfits of the artistic spectrum
Why do they leave such a small hole for us?
Out of all the five star hotels, we're the only only art form that got a one star instead
We're going to need an umbrella, it's going to rain soon
Not because it's symbolic, but because the humidity is high
There needs to be a change in the literary frontier
I'm going to trick or treat, but i don't need no costume
I'm coming as myself
Ready to break through the barricades
And increase the size of these poetry shelfs for the future to embrace
More dreams and more elation than ever thought of before.
We may be the minority now, but it can change for the future
Don't buy a different crystal ball on me just yet
We're the eighth place team that will contend for the playoff
Just watch the curtains come undone
And the kids run
For that golden dream.

Carolynn , child fast asleep in Papas arms , a warm embrace , sincere smile ..Place these tiny little hands upon my face as hope , a child's love marry sadness, wisdom for a man many years lost at sea , penny for your thoughts little one ?

I learn a long time ago just how real that you are here on the earth.
You have reveal yourself to me in so many different levels here.
I seen just exactly how Real you are throughout my whole life.
You could had let me die as a infant, but you gave me a purpose.
That needed to be fulfill here just like you did for so many others.
So many of us your people, have seen you in a light that powerful.
For you really do reveal yourself to those that seek you whole heartily.
For he Loves us and holds our life  in his hands, healing us as well.
Allowing no harm to befall us, that would take our life from here.
Until the time that he deems that is our time to go home to heaven.

In the brief day, or rather, the night
called Life,
dream how easily a speck may be distanced from itself;
and how hard also it is
to remove that same grain
from your proud eye.
Look at the lightning over the green corn
and learn the virile meaning of our lack of power
under the traveling stars.
Turn on the lights silver-electric
to see in what dark rooms you have dwelt,
yet tried to be happy.
Open and close your eyes
and feel the weird proximity of doll-like death.
Talk to the moth
and trot the eternal wheel of boredom,
tolerated by a life that cannot wait
to immolate itself on a fuel lighter
for love of the gamble.
Come near the heartbeat of an animal
and touch your own heart
to take the pulse of the planets
and experience the split-second hypocrisy of love.
Unwrinkle your bones with deep calm
and purest feeling, unfurling your reddish hair,
and you will bare your heart in all your poems.
Pity the mania of poetry
and the helplessness of its wisdom
to hope or heal or even to dare
to come down from its own shiny cross.
In spite of all,
extinguish any light at its source
and you will work in vain
to prevent its survival
in some remembering soul.

there once was an englishman
and he treated me as well as the bee treat the flowers as they land,
and the englishman told me everyday,
how much he truly loved me,
how he loved me as if I was the only girl around,
how he told me I would be the sexiest girl in any town,
and the englishman told me he loved me,
and it took me quite a while to actually believe,

but, this englishman did other things for me,
when he'd talk I feel in love with his voice,
and his smartness,
and his jokes,
and his way to always throw into the conversation,
a million compliments,
and I could barely find the words to say thank you most times,
and I was shocked to hear all the lovely things he had said about me,
rather than the usually flaw countdown party I got daily,

and I hated myself,
that I could not say I love you back,
for a while I don't know why I didn't believe,
why I felt like it was too good to be true,
and how I wanted to grow up each second I spoke to him,
so I could move away to see him,

so, I truly loved this person,
and I kept thinking and waiting,
for when,
he'd stop,
loving me too,

An horizon,
water coloured
by an impossibility;

the wish
i promised
not to wish;

a strength,
like a faith
in mankind;

my hands,
to shelter
broken wings:

nothing more
and all a nothing,
ethereal, like a heart.

Life is cruel my friend, and love is a Labyrinth. Just kick back and relax, love wasn't meant to be found, but it's meant to find you.

in melancholic countenance
i gaze at the icon with impatience
me staring back at me in the mirror
wishing i had been sincerer
terse adage philosophy ring in my
mind
am caught between two stools stay or
hide,
guilt gnaws my conscience
nibbling away my mask of innocence
having made my bed i now had to lay
on it
tardy it was when i comprehended
having stature didn't requisitely
mean
my age was more propounded than my
dad's
but here i am today yowling over
spilled milk
growing up beneath my parent's
shadow
familiarity had sired contempt
and the spirit of adventure had me
convinced
the grass is invariably greener on the
other side of knoll
precipitately i plunged into the mucks
of this world
ceasing to recall the wise had
muttered
you can't fabricate bricks in omission
of straw
all i reflected was that fortunes
favors the bold
dauntlessly i ventured and swayed
away from morals
the world bountifully vouchsafed into
my disposal
bird who had corresponding feather
and together we flocked
as the hungry earth swallowed us in
it's pleasures
a fool i was to test the depth of water
with both feet
after the foolish ordeals remorse
ensued
i had the will to change and a way
could be found
i decided not to look at where i fell
but where i slipped
since i never wished to be that
simpleton
who gained ascertainment when
players dispersed
i couldn't dawdle no more or else
i would miss the water long after the
well dried
i became the squeaky wheel and sure
enough i was greased
though i plundered my life penitence
is not a solution
because you cant make an omellete
without breaking
a few eggs
sometimes going gets tough but tough
gets going
i learnt that
between the devil and the deep sea
discretion
is the best part of valor...
i live with the knowledge of the wise
men
illuminating my ways and checking on
my morals

We need to lay down our hurts, our Anger, our sorrow.
At the feet of the Living God whom shall takes these.
Repair us and restore us, for only he can really heal us.
We need to use the gifts that he has given us to use here.
We need to allow him to be seen through us and our actions.
For only he can save people that we love and care about.
For only he can save anyone, only our Savior can save.
We need to put all of our Hopes and dreams at his feet.
So that he can use them to bring them back to us here.

I am not trying to offend anyone but its break my heart.
That those whom worship satan  or self is missing the truth.
Christ has already won the victory on earth as well as heaven.
For those whom put their faith in anything except Christ.
This is why I must not lose sight of what I must do here.
Praying for people eyes to become sincerely open here.
Asking Jesus to save the blind, as well as healing them.
For you are all very important to the true God Jesus the Christ.
Love you all as well and am praying that you become blessed.