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They say that all is fair in love and war
But is all fair in the war of love?
Is there temperance amidst the virile and the delicate?
Or is it just a guise shielding us from the bitter truths of love?

Dear brother of mine
Bold lawman in the making
Had a young sweetheart years apart

He was climbing up fast
With the promise of a bright future
And she would only be the start

But two summer days
Of ecstasy and pleasure
Were all it took in the name of time

For the young sweetheart
With his heart on a hook
To tear apart the cord of his precious spine

Now his reputation, his hopes, his dreams are on the line
Because of a young heart whose blood was replaced with slime
How can this happen to a man of pure heart and mind?
Such a burden to my dear brother will never be a friend of mine
Based on a recent tragedy a few hundred miles from my hometown.

---

© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
I'm lost again
Lost again in the snow

There's nothing here
No people
No houses
No trees
Nothing

Nothing but white
and me

It's so cold here
Yet I still feel warm

I'm lost here
Yet I feel like I've been here before

I look up
I see a hand
It helps me up

The hand disappears
I see a house
I recognize that house

I reach out
I open the door
I am home

It's warm here
And I feel that warmth

I start feeling cold
I can't feel its warmth anymore

I'm lost again
Lost again in the snow
Story of my life

. Written after depression in September 2010

. Inspired by "Counting the Roses" by Arto Lindsay

"Poetry to me, it's like creating my own microcosm.
A sanctuary of comfort. It was probably, no, it must have been the end of another sad day when I wrote this poem."

- Kimberly Fox, fictional character (D2)

. For my loving family who is, was and always will there for me



Thank you
 Apr 2014 Ellen Joyce
euphony
baby boomers' education was creative
back then everyone was so imaginative
considering the economy was inactive
our perspective isn't the perceptive.

we were made from the earth's clay
from our mother's conception day
into the world we millennials came
treated by parents like we are so lame.

our technology is more advanced
millennials are so very benevolent
i guess it is such a bad expectation
s/o to my ***** Richard Dawkins.

they say back then we called friends
we say today we text friends
they say gas was worth 35¢ a gallon
we say gas is worth $3.35¢ a gallon.

they say we had black and white tvs
we say ****** we got colored tvs
but there is a paradigm masterpiece
it just makes you stand to your feet.

considering our generation escapades
theirs created the existence of AIDS
now we millennials are not to blame
that is what made their time so lame.
(: hope this makes sense to the millennials out there on www.hellopoetry.com :)
 Apr 2014 Ellen Joyce
Sia Jane
Cady crushed
Soulful sunbeam
Modelling moonlight
Bright red scream.

Makeshift Marilyn
Winter wanders
Cavalier cowboys
Don't slow down.

****** valleys
Lightening laser
Taunting temptation
She'll be watching.

Dusted dimes
Matriarchy mothers
Electric evolution
At least pretend.

Sleeping sisters
Brutal brothers
Scoring shots
Smells like you.

Snakes stifled
River rapids
Drowning diseases
Love songs sung.

Their souls;
corrupt.

Unarticulated answers;
lost.

Paradise alley;
forgotten.

Ungrazed lips;
innocence.

© Sia Jane
This is very random I do know! Not sure where it came from.
I also want to say I am trying to keep up with all your poems!!
 Mar 2014 Ellen Joyce
Elizabeth
of mosaic sea gem trinkets shimmering in the
colors of coral and gypsy travels
she always found herself on the ocean's shore
between the jubilance of the tide
and the constant of the sand
drinking in the sun's rays as they
sliced through the salt winds
she kept those beams, tucked them away
to give to others with every coming laugh
dreaming in paintbrush strokes and vivid imagination
don't you ever lose that essence of who you are
never stop asking the toughest questions
never stop saying what everyone else is too afraid to voice
~ for my sister ~
 Mar 2014 Ellen Joyce
Sia Jane
She came into her life
A mere stranger of coincidence
Alexander McQueen ivory silk tulle
Empire line gown.
All senses heightened;
She was waiting amidst
The exotic smell of burning
Candle wax.
The scent of a woman clinging
To lustful air, white roses ribboned
Thorns tinting porcelain skin.
She hears the patter, not dislike
A small child coming toward you.
All senses are broken; just a voice
So much power in the echo
Of words spoken with such
Fluidity.
****, he ******* knew that
She was awake, Louboutin steps
Scaring the devil itself; what sin.
Walking through flames,
Burning, hot coals; presence.
Ophelia approaches, a creature
Secure, arms wrapped tight
And smiles at her.
Ophelia speaks to her; lifting her arms
To wrap around her instead.
A gentle hand, to the thigh
A soft caress across silver scars.
The girl feels; inadequate
And yet, forgiven for all she has
Committed; sins of the flesh.
It was only now that, this goddess
Of desire, lust and eternity
Could mark a soul, for she was an
Angel, winged feathers a glow.
She reaches to the empty soul
Challenges her resoluteness
"What can I do to help?"
Eyes welling, the sound of a
Tear, akin to a pin drop
In silence.
In that silence, words formed
Like cloud patterns, shifting
Graceful elegance.
Nothing was heard, all was spoken.
Ophelia stole her heart,
The girl will always be attached
By symbolic resurrections
Of strength,
Spiritual
From
The heart and mind.

© Sia Jane
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