It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father. – Pope John XXIII

I want to write poems about the poems
That I have already written to release my stress
I remember my first one about the internet night stalker
Whom in his words wrote that I was like dessert rose?
Low maintenance succulent that makes a man like him
Lose sleep over me, in return they became holy
ending all of the sentences with an Amen!
My poems had to make someone think
About love, lust and disgust, to mankind
Especially by the ****** arousal of men
*** is bad for women, those who are
Disgusted by the touch of a man:
Those who were used by A WOMANIZERS
Sometimes these women feel disgusted by ***
Once bitten twice shy
Politics and politicians are about power and glory
Their intention is never about making others happy.
Another ****** moment of being undone!
Nothing but A medium rare steak—
similarity to fake ******:
UNDONE!
One of my best would be to free *****
But allowed my poem to run freely thought-out
The internet, so that my words could reach foreign land
And it works, thousands of viewers read my thoughts,
Some even made comments,
love yourself, then my poems, appreciated them for what they are,
because what this world needs now, is love, sweet love,
not hate, free ***** but let my poem travel.

The Game Change
Two strong competitors fighting for the crown
So many promises, Where can we go wrong?

What did our bible?
Said about speaking in tongues?

Someone must lose in order
For the other one to win

That is what known at the game change.
Knowingly, nothing would ever be the same again

How many competitors from the past fulfill their promises?
Fools us once, shame on you, fool us twice,

We just have to say Amen but indeed... Oh! Jesus Christ.”

We listen and watch all those tricks and trades
With ponderings thoughts we said “who really said what?
Can they really step up to the plate and deliver?

Are we willing to put our country in the hands of the wealthy?
Who never knew the meaning being dirt poor?
Or Shall we say, no more, no more?

Show us the beef you influential flimflammers',
and we shall show you where our loyalty lies;

*Because man is his own authority
he use his brilliant educational philosophy, to be creative
he wink at the cameras, and said
” I get back to you on the real issues”
You law abiding fools

Satan is a liar, and so is man.
White lies, black lies and grey lies
Everybody lied at some point in their life
why stop now?
All eyes are on you!

You know that your are awesome when the fellows whistle at you
However, you know you got it going on. When a blind man say to you honey
“Honey your perfume says a lot about you: you speak volume. Quote :Annie Lander

He seldom bring me flowers
But once a year a dozen red roses
For each month he missed out
~
He never smiles,
unless there was a touch down
I used always made him a cup of herbal tea
whenever, he came to town

However, I on the other hand always smile,
without a reason: it was him and I at that moment
I asked him one or two lumps
I really miss the old chum

He doesn’t bring me flowers anymore
instead they sprung up from his grave in the air:

Only name the day, and I shall be there

This morning the notification woke me up

With still sleep in my eyes I reached for my phone

And the tone  

lingers from that Twi in my ear

Annei I love you though, despites his tears

To forget the world, and they negativities

Of a love such as ours, it clean, it’s pure

Love does not speak volumes(quote)

It speaks the honesty of another one confession,

Loving another person is hard work,

Only true love to me is a newborn baby love

for its mother, he trusts her immediately  



As we gaze into each other eyes,

We smile, we reminisce we both lied:

We try to outdo each other:

Was I king liar or was he king Lear?

Revealing too much, or revealing a little

Listen carefully, and responding with affection

Or simply use the body language

This fool will get back to you.

And old gal interpretation of fear not want not

We really don’t get each other:

My darkest fear is why did he walk

The dark street of Accura at 3.am?

That’s when my psychoanalysis study step in:

Where the boy seeks, love in an old familiar place

the street love of his childhood dream;

I asked of him not cut his hair

It makes him look like a youth,

Older men take advantage of desperate  

Looking youth, because of the boyish look,  

and that all it took:

Meat for the belly, and the belly for the meat(quote)

So, happily this morning I decline,  

You learn a lot about a man by his behavior when hungry. ~ Zambian Proverb

How to make yourself happy
compose a poem
and called it poetry,

let your inspiration comes
from that day, that time, that hour

when you felt sad:
then whisper to yourself
Good, golly miss molly
I can breathe again:

A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He  remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his  eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her  heart strings..

A man left work one Friday afternoon. Being payday, instead of going home, he stayed out the entire weekend hunting with the boys and spent his entire paycheck. When he finally appeared at home, Sunday night, he was confronted by a very angry wife and was barraged for nearly two hours with a tirade befitting his actions.

Finally, his wife stopped the nagging and simply said to him, "How would you like it if you didn't see me for two or three days?"


To which he replied, "That would be fine with me."

Monday went by and he didn't see his wife. Tuesday and Wednesday came and went with the same results.

Thursday, the swelling went down just enough where he could see her a little out of the corner of his left eye.   (by Joke.Com)

When love becomes a universal migraine:

Forest of Broken Dreams
His kisses were illegal
Passionate, yet surprisingly forceful
Better than his first
More memorable than his second
His third smooch was as cold as a Bollywood kiss

I close my eyes every day,
And I asked God, why some people think
That it is a sin to be poor,
It is not good thing to take that tour,
Down memory lane,
Reliving  all those slam doors
Jeering, body shaming and the pretending:
Looking back, and feeling
that they love was like a charity case
Forgiveness is not what most of us think:

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;

Those lips that we kiss;
Were lethal, like a late night walked
On a lonely street,

Love is patient, but not kind…
Love is a universal migraine..
with a combination of the wood nettle vine

A violent rushing wind crept through my bedroom window,
bringing the Brooklyn air and the smell of fumes.

It's not a good combination at all.
When will I learn that the young Gen Z is more frustrated than us baby boomers?
When we are in bed, they are up all night.
When we are fully awake, they are about to lie down.
When we try to reach out to them,
They get annoyed easily.
Should we fold or unfold to the madness of this so-called new generation?
Fold to the madness of the new generation.

Long distance relationships do not rely on physical love, long distance relationships are driven by the love that inspires your heart, mind and soul.”
― Anonymous

Death came too soon:
To be precise on a Saturday afternoon
it ended or did it not?

To all who knew her felt the pain?
But what lead up to that hour: was a crying shame
Her eyes were full of life
Her heart bled for her offspring
Right up to her last dying breath
It ***** to keep a secret,
Jealousy is a disease, fear is mind killer
a killer was on the loose.

Two deaths, two stories
Double sins, double tragedy
But, oh, the feeling she left behind,
The questions, no answers, so little time to reflect
Humanity is sickened by one horrific headline after another
I wondered who is going to be next:
I trust my life to an earthquake more than to any lover
Raged like rough sea, against the salty rocks,
Holding on like sea ***** never letting go,

1 Corinthians 15:54, 55:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”

To the one they left behind,
To the one who weep at the open graves,
To the one who silently stood by?
And never give a helping hand,

To the ones who knew these kind of persons
And stay silent: isolation is also a killer;
To the ones who grieves and respond to loss
A mother who loss her daughter:
Two death, two untold stories..

His favored ones, whose backs bend o’er the soil,
He blessed the hands of the ones who look after
His animals, with loving care, with sweet voices,
So gentle so caring, then, he blessed his children
In everything they do. And that is you, my Johnny
Tears, praise, love, joy, enwoven in your chest
As I watch you make adjustments, like the river of life
However, Johnny where there are no Roses
There is no hope of predicting, the love of a side chick(😊
With lots of bedroom tricks, more than professional decorator:
My wonderful brave robustly man of the soil,
I love your smile, your pouty lips,
And the way in which you announce my name,
Your gift from God is supreme,
as well as my futuristic dreams
Brave one of the Caribbean soils,
It was a wonderful thing you done
That night as you stay up late and spoke
Hello to me!

There is always
one more dead body
to make us sigh!

We fret at every little thing
We cry when, we should be laughing
And laugh when we should be crying:

Our humanistic way  of coping with life:
How Old Is Mrs. Claus? Mrs. Claus is 1,136 years young!
We will never grieve for the Mr. and Mrs. Claus

They will forever live in our hearts,
Fictional but pleasing to the young
We celebrated another Christmas once again
We cheer, we reminisce, and we hesitate about them

However,

**This is my wish for you: peace of mind, prosperity through the year, happiness that multiplies health for you and yours, fun around every corner, energy to chase your dreams, joy to fill your holidays!” — D.M. Dellinger: Quote

Sharks is not only in the river,
"Sometimes a shark can attack a human out of fear.
If for some reason that shark believed that"
a human is a threat then it might attack him."

As human being, we struggle with all sorts of emotions
So we plots against each, in ways more than other
unfortunately, those plot usually backfire,

For good can overpower evil in most cases
Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good:
So you should know, the poet said to herself.

This past Tuesday, a secret was reveal to me
That a coworker was plotting against me,
But, the one she told, warned me,
That a shark was not only in the river,

Who God bless No man shall curse…
This individual, somehow, the ones
In the lab coats, favor her to do the
Odd and ends, it reminds me of
The slave masters informers,
To report back to him, and they shall be awarded
I listen to the one she told,
And took it in stride
Shall I planned a revenge,
Of do what I usually do most
And let the cookies crumbles?

Today, is a new day, a day to write a poem
About slavery tactic, and how the minds of the weak
Of slave ancestor survivor, can creep back in time
and space into the body of this co-worker:

A slave to fear…however,
a poets like I to reckon with.
I foresee a slap in her face,
But a bullet to her heart,
She is not the smartest!
only the master *******
.

Teaching...


   “If you would have your son to walk honourably through the world, you must not attempt to clear the stones from his path, but teach him to walk firmly over them - not insist upon leading him by the hand, but let him learn to go alone.”


― Anne Bronte

There's nothing, nothing left to say or do
You look through a window to the world outside
and watch another twelve inches of snow fall to the ground
Cursing Mother Nature or turning this into a blessing

Here I am waiting to see my tulips sprout
Instead, they are being blanketed with snow
There's nothing else left for me to do but to go inside
log on and read other people's thoughts :
so sad their mental state
so sad.

It is so pleasant to come across people more stupid than ourselves.  we love them at once for being so.

J K .JEROME

I move alone in the dark unseeing,
as I move toward the door, I remember,
there is only one direction
And that is back to the warmth of my bed
on this cold April day.....

It is not from nature  but from education and habits that our wants are chiefly derived.

Every time I open my mouth to
Response to idiotic people my language change
It was so early in the morning,
And believe me, I wasn’t in the mood

For female nonsenses: one drops on her knee
And raise her hand to the ceiling, open her mouth
And let out a bunch of nonsense. The other whispered
“God protect me from these evil people,

I look at my co-worker, and he looked at me
Such juvenile malarkey, so early in the morning:
“He said” with a loud Sigh!!!!

I lost another one, it gone, it no longer moves,
What, whom and where, and why!  The baby!
My eyes drop to her knees with such unspoken grief,

I was told that’s where they go for safety:
It had to be some conspiracy:  five small angels
In five years, how does she control those tears?

At the moment, I need a glass of water and two aspirins;
She looks so emotionless and calm: the same exact composer
Like my friend had after the death of her son:

I on the other hand saw myself standing on the edge
Looking down into the darkness of a bottomless pit

Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

** If you gave someone your heart and they died,
did they take it with them?
Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?”
― Jodi Picoult,

My Wednesday Ranting .. Therapy
In deep darkness on a cold night
I listen to his heavy breathing,
He seemed like a tired person last night
Today, I am tired of broken love,
Tired of not being able to fully trust
This thing called love,
Love is supposed to be kind,
Love is supposed to be patient
He wants to cuddle, I just want to sleep
I never know when a poem will come to me
Throughout the simplest ordeal.
I love his smile; I love the feel of
his prickly unshaven ****** hair against my cheeks
As I write, I create myself again and again---Joy Harjo--
As I write, I remember bad times, bad things,
Of infidelity, --- Annie Lander
It wasn’t cheating, it was the image of my thing
Doing things to others, making them scream!!!
My wicked unsettled mind keeps asking me questions
That I cannot answer, however, I had asked God
To protect me and my sanity.
Let my fears compose a poem
And allowed me to understand, why the most painful thing
On earth is to love a man?
“Sometimes, giving all of your love isn't much so save a good soul, it demands soul for a soul as fair payment.”
― Gurusharan Singhs

We sit side by side,
Mother, child and daughter
An unborn fetus, nurturing,
We had the same dreams,
The same feature and the same walk:

we had to take on bed rest for them to
Survives: we had to follow doctors orders
For them to be healthy and wise:
They didn’t ask of us to be here. We choose them
We lay with the wolves, and we
Got impregnated:

Nothing in those books had prepared us for
The their rude awakenings,
pages of good intentions,
Words from someone else’s experiences,

Not necessary our own stories,
Experiences of another….mortal man
I love quiet places, I love the silence of
My own heartbeat,
the crystals sound of the healing singing bowls
To stimulates ones/my brain cells:
the alien’s gifts for us humans beings:
One and one isn’t always meant to add to two
You see, one on top of one merges as a whole
Two on top of two piles up like a thick granite block
As parents we always wish the best for them

But it’s the ending we don’t know of : words
Of sadness, bitterness and loneliness
Came from places of ungratefulness
Not from the corner of one’s mind:

my mother is close to her ninety birthday
Through the years, those hands I once thought
to be so rough are still taking care of
Of her family, she prepares the family meal daily,
not neglecting the heavy house works

she still finds time to go the city and paid her utilities bills,
Her mind stays sharp to fight off the aches and pain
Of an aging body: I admired the woman for being so brave:
For managing joint pain

When the time comes for me to stay silence,
Is when I am dead: even then I shall appear as the
Ghost you were afraid of> Amen:
,

There is no happiness in keeping
ill-feeling inside:
There is no joy in pretense
Only regret and resistance of change:

Happiness is when what you think, what you say,
and what you do are in harmony.”
―Mahatma Gandhi

Was I a happy child?
I was always caught in the middle
Always pondering, the next move,
Looking for that safe haven,

My life start off in fourth row
My mother fourth child:
My father six seeds:
Trying to find my way was hard:
I remember climbing on to the rooftop,
to seek answers about my position #4
It was a scary kind of calmness up there,
Those emotional upheaval moments of my life
Had come to mold me:  yet uneven as today:

Going up there was easy, getting down was the challenge:
Aquarius is well-known to carries water in order to cleanse and renew.
Every three to four year I have to cleanse myself from toxic relationships
I read somewhere, that toxic folks: are referred as the energy vampires
And as you know I hate those Lamias:
Faces like a sap dog, and sinking blow fish.

There is no happiness in keeping
ill- feeling inside:
There is no joy in pretense
Only regret and resistance of change:

Happiness is when what you think, what you say,
and what you do are in harmony.”
―Mahatma Gandhi

Happy Black Friday my poetic friends..

If my love for you were like diamonds
It would have been no cause for a divorce
I would have treasure it for the unity of its love
I would have praise the colorless crystalline form of pure carbon
The power it holds: The uniqueness of its colors,
And the authentic charisma in others it creates:

Just like the diamonds, we would have been unbreakable
That is why my love for you were not like diamonds
My love was more like a snow cone in Alaska
This melted faster than any glacier ice
.
Some might believe that feelings and thoughts are different
But I set them aside anyway to focus on our love
Anyway, It still didn’t matter…

**We were born to be real. Not to be perfect

Time will tell, time will tell,
Who will meet at the well?
And who will be forgiven,
And who will be smite

It ***** to keep a secret,
Jealousy is a disease, fear is mind killer
They all knew his demeanors
Impeachment but  two times, once a sinner always a sin
Sometimes I use to love him
Sometimes I didn’t understand his tactics:
My grandparents always told us
Children, children, behave yourself
Never is the follower always being the leader:
Is the best way to go..

A few article I came across this morning
He is dynamo driven restless unable to keep
(Reminds of my grandfather donkey Wilbert).
He gets by with very little sleep.
The mind of Donald Trump
Narcissism, disagreeableness, grandiosity psychologist
investigate how trump extraordinary  personality
might shape his presidency (story by Dan P McAdams)
Was the president really a leader?

I don’t know if I should be happy or if I should cry,
I don’t laugh at ones misery or one rejoice at
Proverbs 24:17 Do not gloat when your enemy falls, and

Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles, lest the Lord see it and be displeased, and turn away his anger from him. Romans 12:19
I must indeed say that I have a love and hate relationship with the man
However, what took place in Washington DC two weeks ago,
Makes me more afraid of the politicians and politics’ more than ever

Time will tell, time will tell,
Who will meet at the well?
And who will be forgiven,
And who will be smite

Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread,  

crumbling signs some mishaps in life

surely, cannot be mended;



Yesterday was your birthday,  

Today it's my revelation, of life, (my life)

It seems lately, that I have taken a new route,

This road definitely is not paved with gold.



God truly bless heroes; he never fails me yet!

But, for sure I have encountered some obstacles,

Empathy, or just plain stupidity,  

I am an empath, I never thought I was this kind of person

As we grow older, it's so true that we see life in a different setting

the lows, the in-between and the high moments.

My so intensity, emotions, as they rise,  

and as they drop to low frustrations tolerance, I see red

Today, I need my ginger shots: who cares if it is unhealthy?



Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread, crumbling signs of

some mishaps in life that surely cannot be mended.

Does anybody care about the upcoming presidential election this year?

He that hath no rule over his own
spirit is like a city that is broken
down, and without wall...

Grieve is the price that we paid for love,
As we lease our hearts to the wrong suitors
Without an written agreement,
We accepted deals
Consist of temporary arrangements,
and lots of physical attachments
As our body and soul flow into depth of ecstasy
Making the path clear for broken hearts
The truth was always there
Somehow it
Cloud our judgment
Because love is the state of insanity
And throughout time
it have done nothing for humanity.
Love is the state of insanity
Grieve is the price we paid for love
As we mourn and cling to our hearts
While our suitors, move on to they next
Seamlessly unaffected by they actions.
Not much for a consolation.
Just a reminder that love stinks.
Sweet and wonderful in the beginning
Devastating when it come to an end.
Grieve is the price we paid for love

For obvious reason:
There was once a lady name Annie
A very loveable, respectable Nanny
Her only wish was to become a poet
Without getting the terrible headaches
Until, she discover her grammar was uncanny
The beautiful tone of the poetess seems waspish:
According to the urban dictionary:

Once there was love
That left a light feeling, in one’s heart
It keeps us cheerful, even as ones recites bad hip hop lyrics.
Now it’s leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth
It came in from nowhere: out of left fields:

Ones can still pretend to like swimming in the winter time
Where bathing suits are 75% off the original prices:
In the Y.M.C.A the water is still in the swimming pools:
Ones’ ear is blocked with swim plugs:

Another problem, another loss of the game
Because, it’s still twenty below on the outside:
One’s heart misses a beat for the hundredth times
Warm body, cold hand and feet: not a good treat
Once there was love:
Now it's the emptiness of perception mode:

Jealousy is a weak link<
it is far most dangerous than the stages of cancer:

Mothers are not supposed to bury their children
Should she seek revenge for her child?
Should she forgive?

Keep the sweet memory of your child alive
Within your heart, let the world
Remember her killer as the monster
Let the unknown deal with his spirit
Let the angel, guide your child spirit
To a better place,

The struggle with revenge is centuries old. Shakespeare said, "If you ***** us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?" Shakespeare clearly thought revenge was as normal and predictable as the sun rising. Quote:

However, it is not: it just a pacifier solution,
To calm the madness of the mind
Is to be in control:
Because, jealousy is a weak emotion:

A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He  remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his  eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her  heart strings..

That night before I left for foreign land

the moon seems sadder,

As the night crickets cry louder  

Flyer flies hide among the wet grass

Why hide, why hide,



But like others, before me  

I had a dream, while I was awake

I saw sally, I saw Brad,

I saw a vision, of greatness,



Go quietly; a dream

This time it wasn't a dream

But my king heading to the elevator,

My heart was pounding, or was it unfolding

When would I see him again,

What made us fall in love.



Natural high, natural high was it a safe high?

Love can be addiction, unknown to most,

Should I go and retrieve it or wait

And see if my boomerang heart, can bring him back

I will stand at my front door, and see if my love

Would Land on my door step,  

I always love to tell him, how my day went

When he calls my name, I get hot

Even when it cold, and there he is there being hot,

Is he man enough for me,

Just prays that he always smiles for me.

Sunday Morning ******
My soul has been ****** dry,
due to the rising body temperature,
This drove me to speak in tongues

I close my eyes and I drift deep into a bed of jelly
as my heart called out his name,

My body became lifeless like emoji expressions
my new morning love of language
and we become one with our feelings

What demands our attention today?  
A war devoid of consequences,  
Or a history shaped by creationism?  
A stillbirth born without shame?  
Vivid pain and haunting memories linger.  
A wedding absent of both bride and groom—  
Did we call for the ceremony too soon?  

The Gen Z lifestyle is riddled with artificial deceptions.  
An unforgettable presidential race stands as a historical disgrace.  
Did the pope truly have a closed casket,  
Or was it merely a non-cadaver?  

Platforms like Facebook are swarming with scammers—  
More than we've ever witnessed before.  
Referrals are obsolete;  
Being broke has become a norm,  
Your wallet may as well be smoking.  
Buy one, get one free—Temu’s prices tempt us all.  
This is the reality of U.S.-China trade tariffs.  

Are our lives dictated by the Bollywood Referrals Act?  
Isn’t that the truth?  
Comsi comsa.

Her eyes were wide open: she spoke with confident
The sun shines bright through the open window
That looks directly to the boardwalk:

I tried not to stare directly at her lower parts
But once I look the negativity :the body shaming
Keep on rising, my lips were sealed:

Hello, my name is Anna, and how are you?
I heard about them, I saw their videos
But to be up close: defaming the obesity epidemic
I saw Lucy the human sow pig,
The Triumphant Elephant struggles,
Years of food that could have save thousands
Of hungry children lives: she lay there dictating,

I stood there as a poet with a pen. Gasping, sighing
She fights for air; I fumbled for words of expression:
To report back to Jack Kevorkian:
Billing above care: day in and day out:
Was on displayed: there that day
Her hands reach for the oxygen wired,
I knew and she knew how I felt about her

She looked right at me, when she said the words
“Anna do you speak the Language
I said “oh no, “God forbid
And from that moment,
I know she was waiting, waiting,
To leave this world behind her:

A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He  remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his  eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her  heart strings..

Sometimes when we wake up to the world of politic
And the men in charge has nothing good to say

“Look out, your window, look around at your back porch
Then look up above,  look at the ground
And repeat these few word, ashes to ashes
Dust to dust, God whom cans us trust?
Helplessly we are caught in a web of lies

Never stir up an ant’s nest, when it’s peaceful
Or poke the most venomous snake in the world
Because you can, what about the common folks,
Who wasn’t included in your plans?

We do not have the resources like their do,
To be sitting like target ducks, waiting, waiting and waiting
Oh, God of Glory, how much more can we endure?
How soon, how soon will doth douse water on the open fire
Just to signal smoke of peace:

Sometimes when we awoke to a world of political injustice
And tears comes to our eyes, as we feel the tightness of the ropes
Once again our heart began to build more hate
We fear for the unborn, we say goodbye to ours elderly

While this earth saturate the innocent blood of the wounded
The devil with the golden hair said
"no ducks is safe in the gallery:

My love looks like a choir boy tonight
His angelic voice lighten up the air waves
But he is in his sixty, a pensioner
His weaknesses make me strong

To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable;
to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.” ~Criss Jami

He looks like a teenager engage with his first crush
His low haircut and a soft whispering voice,
His only mission is to make me happy
My advice for him: comes from a quote

##To see the world, things dangerous to come to,
to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other and to feel.
That is the purpose of life.
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty**

I have a lot of admiration for my love
A wonderful man with potentials

Death is like the lottery, you never knows when your number will called..
Quote:

He yelled at me in Ewe, my friend.
I asked him to calm down.
Such an accent, powerful and forceful,
It fired me up, igniting a desire:
Passionate love with him, that's my aim.
For this, he'll need a bouquet of flowers,
A gesture to mend the death of love!

I'm weary of waiting,
Boundaries blurred; no limits seen.
But patience prevails—good things await.
The Israelites sought a king,
And the Queen will welcome him to her chambers.
His voice softens, realization dawning,
My love needs solitude and respect.

My poems serve as my sanctuary,
Words of a woman in pain or perhaps love.
He yelled at me in Ewe,
A language I can't comprehend.
Bittersweet romance, tangled and mysterious.

I just woke up and it dawn upon me, "I am single.!
however my energy is filled with loving thoughts from my past.
or is it misrepresented of truth?

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.. "

I am taking notes.
I am adhering to the rules
Yet, I feel numb on the inside, restless,
Corona corvid 19 takes takes
And keep on taking away our family units,
How many more question, can we asked
Why, why, and why God?
Why so many corona corvid deaths

I cannot watch anymore,
I can’t feel anymore am I dreaming?
Am I feuding?  Am I stressing?
Is it my place to asked these questions
Have heaven run out of wings.
Like PPE for our essential workers,

Being silence is not is not relaxing anymore
Silence is a true friend who never betrays
Don’t blame the funeral directors,
Blames the Administrators, the politicians’,
The world leaders, a matter of facts
Don’t blame, set a flame and remove the blame:

Jesulema, Jesulema,: more death than  ww2
Coronavirus death soars, surpass fatalities in Vietnam War
Have been read in the headlines, lessons on waist lines
Don’t blame, set a flame and remove this so called facts or Bats

Oh! 2020 the year of the death,
The blazing death of fire,
A year no one is going to admired:
a year of the blame,
a year of deadly facts or bats

Oh! JerSulema,  

Oh God almighty.
A year of question,
A year of the wings
A year to spend less on the fire arms
And more on the PPE,
Let tackle this enemy: