I'm a tiny blade of grass
In a meadow, all alone
Nobody comes to visit me
Nobody calls my phone

Oh, if I could make a friend
This tiny blade of grass would cheer!
Hey, this must be my lucky day
'Cause look:
Here comes a deer!

Hello Margaret , it's been thirty years now to the day .
Gee I would like to ask how you are but that seems silly now anyway.
Hard to believe it's been thirty years to the exact day .
Thirty years since you took your life away .

Angel is all grown up now with two children of her own and another on the way .
When I asked her if she wanted to come she looked down and said , "Tell her I love her ."
It still bothers her unfortunately .

Me ? Well I grieved for years and finally crawled out of my hole . I met Ann and she has made me whole .
You know I love her as much as I loved you . It's just another kind of love , different than the love I had for you .
She's waiting over there inside the car . She understands how I feel and will always be that way . We have children now , two of our own . I think you would love them if it were left to God alone .

But it's not about me that brings me here today . I just had to see you and just wanted to say that I still love you and will never change my way . And for some strange reason I thought I would hear you say you feel the same way too ,

a learning experience
- the detailed
timing and precision

- a certain etiquette
in the rise and fall
of hands and feet

i learned the walk
- mirrored on the toe
of a spit-shined boot

shooting imaginary doves
in white gloves -

the proper fold
of the cloth
- tight and taught
with stars above

the tri-fold - not
a trifling thing we're told

the color of a mother's tears
and grip of a father's grief -
the why in the cry of a child

- sad song of the bugler
on a windswept hill
standing in the detail.

r ~ 10/29/14

My world is filled with strangers.
People without last names.
Intense closeness and then nothing.
Passing through without a trace.
I don't mind but it all feels paper thin.
I want something solid to stand on.

And then I thought that
those big, endless dark spaces
between the stars in the night sky
had to mean Something

besides

how much nothing is in
Nothing.

When am on hello poetry
I feel different
like am in space,floating around

This is my comfort zone
I get to be me without worrying
i know I have a family here
they want me in the Ark
far from waves and storms

What I write is just my world
My unwritten story
A diary that I share with everyone
i voice my souls long sufferings
and my triumphs

Am not a good poet
you already know that
but there people here with magnificent talents
Joe Cole being the father of words
musfiq the guy with delicious words
Patty m one of my favorites
Pamela Rae is definitely a highborn, can't ever be on her level

I write down my emotions
things ive kept in for centuries
this is how i get to express myself
in real world
believe me when i tell you in real world am like a rock
you'll never see this side of me

*am a very quite person and I definitely keep everything to myself

Your hair was then
an ocean

Your feet
nimble emotion

Your skin
rice bran gold!

Now you’re as old

as undiminished sunrise

in my eyes.

There is a little star
Twinkling overhead
I see it from my window
As I lie upon my bed.

There are many others
Who for attention vie
But this one in particular
Lights up my blackened sky.

Some stars, they are white,
Some stars they are blue,
But this star is golden...

... and this poem is for YOU.

♡♥♡♥ + huge hugs
Catherine

Beyond my I love you lies
An I love you too,
Or sad poetry.
I write what I cannot have
Or what I cannot keep.

I go from loving to losing you
And both. I go from pain to
Odd pain then to forgetting,
And beyond that-
Pain even. But hope
Is always there.

The sun sets, not for the moon
But for tomorrow; Love leaves
Not for pain, but for love.
Pain never leaves.
Love always comes back.
Love comes back better.
Pain disintegrates.

Beyond sad poetry
Is romantic poetry.
Beyond poetry is reality.
Beyond everything else,
Good and bad,
Is you.

And You are far better...
...than an I love you too.

© 2013 J.S.P.

falling out of love with you
was like falling asleep.
first slowly and then all at once.

Set the paint brushes on fire
Brush your feelings on paper
To paint the most beautiful picture
With the exclusive hues
Every word immersed in love
Colors of the soul and pure emotions
Sweeping across the paper