Lady Folly
He did not kiss me when he said good-bye;
I let him go, not asking why,
Self-reflection
But I knew why, today I am taking a break
To reflect on myself, on this blessed Palm Sunday
What do I really want, what do I really need?
Somedays I think I know,
especially then I fall back into my mode
I see things others don’t,
my ****** muscle contracts each time
he rolled over, and touched, another,
even as he spoke kindly, I always knew
It's not cheating for him. Somehow for me
It's an invasion of one's privacy
As I feud within: I shattered mirror,
Of myself, this can’t be love it's not real:
Even though,
I’ve learned it is far better to lay in an empty bed
Then to lay next to someone who makes me feel empty(quote)
In my case, I am experiencing a folly of a woman
When Lovely Woman Stoops to Folly


WHEN lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his *****--is to die.

Oliver Goldsmith
URL: https://able2know.org/topic/6894-1
Poetry can be therapy, poetry can be therapeutic,
These past memories, months of longing feelings,
I need the touch of his hand, his voice I can easily retrieve
The path of my writing is a path of truth,
I am the one that contributed to this madness,
I am the one with the poet's keyboard and pen
I am the one that should have just stayed friends,
I am the one that hate all men,
I am the one that loves, hates, and then love again,
Emotions, emotions, keep taking me in the wrong direction,
I want to go back, to my safe place, called loneliness
My heartbreak hotel

A lost and thirsty wanderer
          sought oasis on a parched and dusty plain
                   where spectral mesas
                merged with pastel stratus clouds -
            quivering in the summer sun.

                    A slender blue ellipse emerged
                            along the horizon's edge,
                          taunting the traveler’s arid throat.

                    Recalling child-day afternoons.
                         splashing in the pond behind the barn,
                              his legs urged toward aquatic deliverance.

                                       But knowledge seized his boots.
                                   Wary of loving a delusion,
                               he chose instead to seek a road or farm
                           or chance upon a horse-backed rancher
                                tracking down an errant calf.

                                       Still he looked back to his phantom pond  –
                                             never to know if an oasis flowed
                                                   less than an hour’s walk away.


                               December, 2018

Passion had finally erased my calm, (quote)
I look toward the long stretch of beach in coney Island
The couple walking the boardwalk, I visualize that it was us on the island of Barbados, walking, bare feet on the sand
And only space between us, was a little cool breeze.
You can bring the vitality back at any age,
I wonder if you would kiss me on my forehead
Before reaching for my pouty lips,
I wonder if you would whisper my name before you
Reach for my breast, these things might mean nothing
To you, but to me, it said, we are ready,
I wonder if you find a seashell, and
Place it next to my face, and jokingly
Say to me. She sells seashells at the seashore
In response I would jokingly say
“To avoid having *** with her Johns!
I am sure, I am sure! I am Sure!
Passion had finally erased my calm
But being there with you, it would be my lucky charm.

Three months ago, I never had any thoughts

About, love, loving someone, or being in love,

They say a good love is one that sits you down, gives you a drink of water, and pats you on top of the head. But I say a good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can't stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch! I say that's a good love; one that burns and flies, and you run with it!”
― C. JoyBell C.

If I was to tell you that I saw a rose blooming in the heart of winter

No one would believe me, that love struggling to stay afloat.

Perhaps, the rose is here to remind us, of something, we’ve have forgotten

During the summer's months, (like did we stop and smell the roses)? Such cliché indeed)

I never thought of the rose, until two days ago, when I told my friend about

That single rose I uses to get ever 6th of the month:

That too had stopped when our love for each other was dying like the rose:

However, the memory is still here, did I appreciated the rose gestures on the months

Yes, I did, I felt love, I felt the warmth inside.

It seems like I am going to be alone once again for Christmas

But I will think of that single rose,

I will drink my eggnog, and baileys Irish Cream

But will not bake my goose, but I will relive

Past memories, my mistletoe kiss will have to wait,

And disguise my disappointment like a true trooper:

(Laughter brings many positive qualities into the world and into human relationships.) quote

I am now seeing, why a laugh, a smile, a body gesture

Can make a person feel so good inside,

When he smiles at me:  

And it's because, I open my heart, once again:

Who know me best,  

Who know me, (me)

When I fall in love

I fall hard, or am I mistaken his love

For candy on my eyes, for now,

Or is this the real thing,

I know the truth,  

Am I in total denial of wanting.

Denial has a dark side:

I have a past, of repeating,

The same mistakes,  

Why can’t I see passed those brown eyes,

The saddest part, he hasn't taken me to cloud nine

Or touch my G spots, or glorify me,

What is it about him, that make me thirsty,

I cry so much last night, I cried  

Cry of loneliness, ****** deprivation,

I even cry after ***, they called it the

drowning in a sea of feel-good chemicals like oxytocin and dopamine,  

But it never happened, the done deal so why am I crying?

I will blame this one on my booster shot,

What the hell they injected into my body?

I am seeing things in a different form of light.

Or is my lack of trust?  

I cry even more, seeing his ringtone

And refused to take the called,

Just wanted him to reach for me instead,

I wonder if he has any idea, of what he is

Doing to me: I am a woman,

I need to be touch.  

How can I overlook this jealousy?

And focus, on me, and not on you.

Your needs are being meet,

I feel like I am pregnant, again, waiting  

For that little life inside of me to

Come out and love me. Wholeheartedly

Dracula - "Blood is thicker than water". Plus, it already has all the good stuff a vampire needs.
I know that only my brain can send the signal to my cells that make me sick, and make me well. Good morning, and goodnight!!

Count Chocula - Chocolate milk is thicker than regular milk, plus it's chocolate! Good morning!

Rabbit - Trix are for kids!

I never look at a blank page for too long,

Same goes for facing a blank wall,

it seems to be always missing something.

A photo, a picture, and most of all memories.



When I was a child the same goes with my readers

without those colorful photos, I wasn't

contented with reading the book.

I must have read The House that was up sided down"

More than a dozen times, love how the illustrators  

Mind-expanding illustrations, vocabulary or concepts

had capture my growing mind at a early age.

Today my mind, doesn’t go for the illustrations,

But it can capture poetic details about life,  

And the subject matters: as they come to surface,


When it comes at me in the mirror,

It's not me staring back, but a poet,

A modern free verse kind of poet,

Or would we say a Amazon online shopper,

Instead of a walk-in stores browser

Who see from the rearview of her eyeglasses,


The brothers, I have known them that for the past

Twenty-three years, not on a personal level,

But by observing those two as individual characters,



One was a war vet, the other a computer tech,

One with some post-traumatic stress disorder,  

The other like no other, had a Smoking Marijuana Fixation:

Most likely contribute to his cancer, which lead up to his death,



The other brother, is still here with us,

Hanging around in the lobby, making weird sound

And ****** expression, of a deranging war vet,

We must never assume, who is healthier and who is not.

Because death is a divider, a time stopper,

And unapologetic, defiant Donald Trump of times


At times, I also can be unapologetic

I owes you nothing, I owes you nothing,

I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I am the free verse

Of my daily writing, without rules,  without your approval,

or even riding my bike without a helmet.

Or walking the street of Brooklyn without protection.

Happiness is a temporary gig

Some of you might disagreed

But look at the facts, about happiness

it's as the saying goes: money can't buy happiness.  

I have come to the conclusion, to enjoy one's happiness,

you have to create your own happiness,  

But first look within, and be honest

Who really make you happy

Who is responsible for your happiness?  YOU!

Not your children, your husband, your coworkers,

Not even your pastor, but You..

So, if you want to maintain happiness in your life
always put yourself first,

I saw this quote and I immediately adopted it



See the positives in things rather than the negatives. Don’t open conversations with people about other people. Slagging people off or negativity just comes back through Karma. So be kind to others, we never know why people react sometimes the way they do, but most people do not purposely mean to be rude or unkind, it is just quite often they are under certain stresses and strains. So try to be understanding and see why they are acting that way rather than judging them Quote......

If happiness was mixed with coke a cola.
imagine, how many of us will be smiling..






































.

I used to wake up with a particular feeling
On Sunday mornings, when I was just a lassie
Nothing could have been more appeasing to the nose
Then a leg of roast pork baking in the oven
Or even a bake chicken or lamb stew
On the top burner, while my mother would sang out of tune
in the kitchen, as she prepared the breakfast, and Sunday dinner
While putting together a Sunday feasts

As for my father, nothing seems of important
Than fixing the old engine or washing down his old Woosley car,
As for me, it was removing those tight braids, or laundry with my wash pan
and scrub board, my mother would be busy in the kitchen,
But somehow, she can tell when we weren’t doing the laundry correct
Even down to our pair of white socks,
And to think latterly of its ****!  back then.
I meant to big up some old dudes from my village
The ones who had left a lasting impression on me throughout
the years, those characters, those lively old men
My father, the sharecropper, ******* or gun smoke)

Dan Dan aka (Daniel Mrs. Sealy husband) I referred to him as
Norbert the man who encourage his wife to gain weigh MS Evelyn  
His way of thinking, he loves women who had meat on the bones?
Old man Sealy the village butcher,  the slaider
nobody could have slain a pig like he uses too,
Odaly Roach, the biggest eyes in a man eyes  
But he would always, give me a penny or two to buy my candies
I remember, his friendly words, of future endeavors (R.I.P) my mentor
Pap_pee, my friend father, he would give me one of his ripe avocados the most tastiest fruit of them all
With a smile, I would thank him, (may he also rest in peace)
It's time to put the aside the old resentments; lies,
Some of them were good old grumpy old men
And some of them were bad *** characters,
While looking back, most of them were BLP Political men
However, no one could have never left a lasting  
Impression that Buddy Sealy the man with the black felt hat
The old man with a bicycle who enjoy his life to the end.

Everyone is counting the casualties
Most of us saw the video of the decease
Most of us never knew her real name
Her story, was yet to be told,
Of a night worker, who stand alone in the dark
And defecated between the adjacent cars,
While an onlooker makes a video for shaming purposes
Words of comments, were

“How one live, so shall how ones die.
Man’s days are determined; by the almighty
Yesterday her name was the ***** from the club

Tomorrow her name will the late decease from Jamaica  
I will plant a tree in her name for peace,
And will it blossom beautifully without the shame
I shall be name, foam Flo wreck, the one who couldn’t be tame  
We only heard of people, after they are gone,
Peace be with you, peace be still
Peace came after, where was the peace when you need it most

**there is a very tiny cracks  in which another world begins and ends  Slavko Mihalic  quote

Sit and be silent to be heard no more,
Perhaps you heard those words somewhere
Sometimes in one's life growing up,
Why people think it their duty to silence
another person not to speak openly and freely,

A spoken word or sound is meant to be heard
Like the loud ring tone of a cell phone  
And indication, someone is calling,
Somebody need to be heard:

My grandparents, and parent believe  
In silencing this poetess when I was a child
At a point where my voice stays inside,
Then step two where, everybody that knew me  
Kept asking why I was so shy:
Why was I afraid to speak to my elders?
Me being shy became social anxiety for some
As for my friends I spoke with confident, like a true trooper,
Grown folks intimidate the hell out of me,
Why? Because of commanding words
Sit and be silent to be heard no more.

As an adult, I have a hard time taking orders
From others, or being talk down too,
Maybe that's why I enjoy writing so much
Only I can hear my voice when I compose
Until I allowed my reading to take a peep
At my work, my Island tongue,
My American frustration on worldly views
I sat for too long, I frown for too long,
I bite down on my tongue for too long,
But I concocted a plan, on how to
Get back my silencers, and revenge them
With my spoken words of silence, without being seen

"Great is language, it is the mightiest of sciences
It is the fulness and color and form and diversity of the earth and of men and women and of all qualities and processes.
It is greater than wealth, it is greater than buildings, or ships or religious or painting or music. -----Walt Whitman.. "