if my words find no
melodious note
without accompaniment
then they are no poem

if they drop the chalice
meant to hold the last drop
of beautiful
then they are no poem

if they cannot feather in
the edges of madness
with strokes of reason
then they are no poem

if they gush unrestrained
and i cannot direct their flow
so they merely flood one's mind
then they are no poem

if they cannot pass
the judgement of their maker,
the Bosporus of his craft,
then they are no poem.

I'm done repressing my gayness
Because it's the "Christian" thing to do.
I will wear ******* rainbow ****** pasties
And march in a pride parade
If I please
And then go to church and praise Jesus
And God and the Holy Spirit
For making the way I am
And how I am
Because he made me perfect.
I am gay
I am Christian
I am proud to be both.

I know that we can thank the Lord
For all the blessings we receive

For home and Family and Food,
the wonders we do not perceive

But may the Lord
Our dearest friend
Thank us for what we've given Him?

Two poets in love,

A natural disaster,
just waiting to happen...

Ah, yes,
I live in beautiful,
beautiful old Paris,
& as they say yes, yes,
oui oui,

Do you like my French accent Mon Cheri?

Well good.

You have your passport I take it?
Bags are ready?

Perfect,
so here we go,

Ahhhh yes,

Let me take you for a ride,
in a lovely old gondola,
through the beautiful & peaceful,
& placid canals of Venice,
the romance capital of the WORLD,

Or on a romantic moonlit stroll,
in the city of love,
hand in arm,
down some worn old,
cobble stone street,
heels click,
with a charming old lampost,
to kiss,
beneath,

Incredibly beautiful that Eiffel tower,

Or take you,
for a heavenly ride,
at the drop of a fateful hat,
you sit by my side,
we are drifting in a hot air barquilla,
yes,

Oui Mon Amour,
as pursed lips,
take careful sips,
of delicious red roija,
a candle burns,
as melting wax drips,
my heart just skips,
cheers my darling,
sampling one another's lips
& roving eager fingertips,

Quivering in a touch
& wanting so much,


This feels right, no?

Beautiful tastes,
of salty spicy Mahon,
from the Islands of Menorca,
tastes Europeans can appreciate,
& so can we
we can belong to the city,
and really it's such a terrible pity,
to stay in,
come along,
it isn't a sin,

The bright lights,
on the city's most tempting nights,
I'll take you to the highest heights,
relishing in the simple & sweet delights,
something we shouldn't fight,

I am right there with you,
like a twisting kite,
  kissing the wind,
just board that flight,

We are free in our wildness,
they say,
like Hemingway,
& his,
"Movable Feast"
I wanna taste this memory,
tonight,
like beauty & the beast,
I see you are so very beautiful,

As Pablo Nerada is gently,
nibbling on,
& whispering in my ear,
telling me, telling me
telling me,
of my most secret,
secret fear,

"You must give in to the night"

As you tip my neck back,
& come in for a slow attack,

"Like a Puma in the barrens of Quitratue"
stalking the night,
& your lover
loving her right,
& the stars,
as they are so brilliantly shining,
on blood you are dining,
try in vain to resist,
this feeling it always persists,

There's more,
I promise my love,

Wherever you wanna go,

I'll paint the way,
so whatta ya say?

Lay next to me in the sweet,
incandescent moonlight,

I would love for you,
to come along with me,
I would LOVE to love you,

Except I'm here,
I'm not there,
just take a little risky dare,
I just wanna say I'd share,
in something that I always swear,
I think that we'd be quite a pair,
no I guess isn't fair,
doesn't matter though,
cuz I don't care,

Being a poet,
it seems that I can take you,

ANYWHERE.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

I'd like to give thanks to all the amazing
poets and writers who aspire to simply
share from the heart.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and
your families no matter your country,
religion or creed.  Peace unto you.

I've discovered you
and who you are
hiding behind the
computer n claiming
something you are not,
but reality denotes
that you are a poet
Well versed you are
and yet an enigma
you are in many ways
Reading between the
lines I put 2 n 2 together
You follow me close
like a true private eye
I was fooled briefly,
but I KNOW
who YOU are.

I am so sorry, for not coming on here lately.
For you all have touch my heart your poems.
Your stories are filled with great encouragement.
I really do miss you, but I am hurting right now.
But soon hopefully , I shall be back on more.
You are all, really inspiring people to me my friends.
I been blessed by each and everyone of you  here.
Thank you all, for being who you are Special people.
I am so very thankful for each and everyone of you.
Bye for now I love each and everyone of you in Christ.

Coldness, I have watched you
in the shadows,
and you have given me mine
from time to time, awake
I slumber down paths
of moss and who knows what all
darkness we can gather
one at a time, but not one soul
can make a bouquet from another
soul, it is too cold to be dreaming
and there is no place for the duelist,
the two of us, lovers of black clothes
and fairly good looking women,
it is almost winter and the wind
is my second, wearing a dark cloak,
breathing in the dead eyes
of my brother, how they shine
and listen to him sing that sad song
will you, while gathering snow
and turning darker than starlight.